Try turning it off and on first

.

{If only.} It’s not that simple. So many people actually enjoy the Games that cancelling would be quite an unpopular move. Not that our poll rankings are standing particularly high nowadays.

{He adds the last part as more of an afterthought than a statement, eyes still closed as he rests against the back of the chair. His ego still hasn’t quite recovered from the stint with the trees and Cambie’s net— but the Games had also brought on his conversation with Alois.}

And if the Games are cancelled, there’s nothing to train for, and without training, how are people supposed to let off steam or energy? No. Barbaric as they may be, the Games are useful in their own way.

[ He doesn’t agree with these arguments and normally Pax can waste entire days debating the most obscure, unimportant things. To pass the time. 

In fact, there are some real points to make but few Clove needs to be made aware of. Instead, he smiles faintly. ] You can’t think of better ways to let off steam? What a shame. [ It is said in passing, without the heaviness of the obvious innuendo. Although he does wonder if Clove blows his load with the permanent scowl on his face. ]

I don’t think they are barbaric necessarily. Just boring. Perhaps effective leadership can one day guide a few changes. [ He finally stands and moves away from the desk. ] It’s up and running. Check it out. 

lucid dreams || alex & pax

Mm. It’s surprising until you realize they’re doing it more for appearances than actual security. Then it’s not really so surprising at all. They’re a predictable bunch, in a lot of ways, [he drawls, feeling tired even as he says it. Not that he minds talking about it with Pax—quite the opposite, actually, and sometimes he even forgets how comfortable he feels with the young Merchant. Considering Alex is a man of very minimal social life, it’s hardly a surprise that he doesn’t get the chance to ‘chit-chat’ with Pax often. In part, of course, because Pax isn’t exactly a ‘chit-chat’ kind of guy, but also because even if Alex were a more social type, they’d exist in pretty different circles. Their most significant connection that bridges them, in fact, is their positions as Elites, but the true union hadn’t been forged until ugly circumstances had thrown the two of them together in the face of them. 

No, he feels tired because the NWRF are an exhausting subject, on good days, and on bad.

Alex nods, smiling a little. Good. It’s good news Pax wants to go with him—he can’t promise what, if anything, will be in store for them on the venture, but regardless he suspects having Pax along will help—whether that be practically, or just personally on Alex’s part, but it almost doesn’t matter which. Probably both.] 

No? What, things hot and bumping at the Hub? Or, I suppose Rocco keeps you pretty busy on the technical security end of things, doesn’t he? You have your hands in a lot of pots here, come to think of it. 

[He raises a brow briefly at the question, another short grin emerges, and he looks to his desk, but shakes his head.] I’m doing fine, I suppose. Not much to tell. [Not much to tell of relevance to a coworker, anyway.] Except… well, I guess it’s not all that out of the ordinary, but the Reformists seem even tenser than usual. I’ve had a few conversations that have… [he pauses, searching for the words.] I don’t know, that have given me the impression something is going on. But… well, I guess they’re a lot less predictable when it comes to things that matter. I’ve not gotten anything concrete out of anybody. [He shrugs, and then, almost as an afterthought.] Oh, and unrelated, but it looks like there will be a new chore coming down the pipeline… but that’s just between you and I, for the time being. 

[ He shrugs with little energy, supposing Alex is right. More is done for show than anything else around the place. Moving closer to spring, activity in the Hub has picked up too. ] More so the Hub is seeing a revival. I dunno about Rocco, he leaves me alone most days. [ Which is fine by Pax, always. ] Hey, I like to stay busy. It passes the time. 

I meant, like, how is it going on a personal level. But I see how it is. Keepin’ it proffesh. Fair enough. [ Again, Pax may have asked to pass the time. The cop in Alex means things are done by the book, mulling over clues to possible crimes around them rather than catching up on friendly terms. What Alex says is curious, a disregard of the predictability of Reformers by acknowledging glaring missteps out of their usual lock-step line. ] 

What sorts of conversations then? Who’ve you been talking to? [ At some point, there will be a time to strike at an otherwise invincible brigade of colony lunacy. Perhaps Alex has inadvertently given Pax a reason to dig deeper. Then comes an exasperated rattle from the merchant. ] Of course. Because there has to be something else to do, another thing the uninfected can’t possibly be asked to lift a finger for. [ An additional chore for the infected to handle and the NWRF to have reason to hover around. ] And the chore is? You can’t just drop that one me without explaining. I need to know what to plan on avoiding. Get my excuses out of it in order, that sort of thing. 

[ A sudden, heavier than usual flash of rain has halted work on the greenhouse project for the day. It’s not the worst chore rotation. Pax will take anything that breaks up the monotony, and the job offers a few hidden perks. One being freedom outside the grey brick and mortar of the Colony buildings.

Another is the variable of weather. Pax takes advantage of the interruption to carry a few things to laundry and see if he can catch Ajay there. He does. ] Ah, I was wondering why I drop off an equal number of socks but receive an odd number back. Makes total sense now. 

In the games? Yeah, I mean, I did okay. Same ol’, same ol’, really. I’m a lot better than I was a few years ago. And I have more fun than I used to because I’m not as stress-o all the time. Plus I really liked the pirate theme this time. 

[He makes a show of zipping his lips dramatically and nodding when Pax talks about being discreet.] Yeah, totally dude. No problem. Just let me know, like, the deets or whatever. When you get them. [‘The deets’?? ugh.]  I think, um, Mouse might even have mentioned something a few months back about… something. I can’t remember exactly, but it was about using my… powers for good, or whatever. [He grins, a little awkwardly.] Anyway, I’m totally in. Especialy because I need the practice, so if I AM gonna ever use my powers for good, it’d be good to make sure I don’t fraking hurt somebody in the process. 

As for other people, um… [he chews his lip a moment.] Maybe Maisie? Like, I actually practiced with her a while back. I found her practicing in the chapel one day, and we sorta worked on it together. She doesn’t have a lot of control and she’s trying to get better I guess. So maybe she’d be interested? I dunno, though. 

[ Same ol’, same ol’. So relatable. The good news in the conversation is: Mouse has already talked to Lake about working with his infection. Using his powers ‘for good’, which sounds straight out of one of the comic books Lake loves to thumb through in Pax’s stall. He avoids digging too deeply into how Mouse presented the prospect to Lake. The important part is: Mouse already laid the groundwork. ] Nice. I dunno if I’ve ever mentioned this to anyone but. I think the whole telekinetic thing would be cool to play with. You know. If I didn’t have my infection. [ A pause. ] What would a good use for what you can do be?

Maisie, huh? That’s cool. Just keep in mind, like. Try to keep it quiet. I don’t want you guys to lose the use of the room. Otherwise-- I trust your judgment. Kind of hoping I can find a few more to join in too. Like ah. [ It’s kind of hard to say with a straight face, but somehow Pax manages when he brings up a fast-talking, walking disaster. Hey, choices are limited. ] Ajay. You know him?

mr. grieves || angel & pax

[As is true of many celebrities, Angel’s ego is a fragile thing – a glass orb easily shattered, but just as easily coated in rose tinted fingerprints. Though he’s moved on from that life now, it does make him puff up to hear Pax say Wing’ed Things had been pretty good. Not the most enthused review he’s ever received, but Pax doesn’t seem the sort to jump up and down gushing. Angel’s going to assume ‘pretty good’ is a glowing review. Of course he is.

Pax asks about the fate of Wing’ed Things, which is a tricky topic. Not because it’s difficult to talk about, but because it was fairly up in the air. They never broke up officially, and right up till D-Day Angel remained close to the others in the band, but it had been difficult. Angel had a stint in rehab, which made touring impossible, and he’d pushed for Wing’ed Things to take a new musical direction. Though he still loves to play their old stuff, moving forward he had been interested in exploring a mellower, more hopeful sound. The others had disagreed.] 

S’pose you’d say creative differences got the best of us. We were workin’ on new material before the end, but after my Rebirth I found I wanted to spread a different sort of message. I was very unhappy before, and that came out in the music. Didn’t feel right to lose myself in that darkness when I was feelin’ so light, but the others said we’d lose fans if we changed our sound. [That hadn’t bothered Angel. He was never in it for the fame or the fans, though he had come to enjoy both. But even if no one was listening, he’d always make music. Always had, always will.] Yeah, lotta talent around here. The music room’s always a beautiful place to poke your head into. D’you play much yourself?

[He’s still not made his mind up about Pax – which is unusual. Angel is a being of snap judgements. He’s not against changing his thoughts along the way, but he generally knows just what he thinks of people right from the start. This one’s a little more slippery, as though his Infection has seeped into his being enough that he is somehow a little less opaque than most. He’s not sure he fancies being bosom buddies with Pax, but there is something interesting about him, something intangible and indefinable.]

[ From what Pax has read of his favorite bands, ‘creative differences’ is a polite way of describing a clash of egos. But Angel speaks of ‘rebirth’, of shifting from darkness to an internal change encompassing more than disagreements with mates. 

Personally, Pax prefers dark sounds and lyrics written in the murk and grit of a raw, vulnerable abyss. Messy, not pretty, but real. ] So a lighter sound-- what would it have looked like exactly? 

[ It may not be an answerable question. ] I mean... artists do change. [ They have to, and he’s assuming Angel considers himself one. Pax smiles and shoots a glance to the water. ] Nah, I can bang out a few things on piano but I’m not a musician. My father left a job as a professor at a uni to play full time. Moved to the UK and everything to pursue his dream. That’s my only connection. Watching him play growing up. And being a fan. 

I do visit the music room from time to time. It’s been quiet until recently, which isn’t a bad thing at all. [ The music room holds a much different vibe than the sulkers hiding in their hoodies elsewhere, a decent escape. ] What else did your... rebirth change? Aside from your musical direction.

Don’t start || Corbin & Pax

[For someone who is notoriously excellent at making light of somber situations, or deflecting anything that seems remotely too close to ‘talking about feelings’, Paxton Semenyuk certainly knows how to take something seriously when he wants to. And Corbin has found, that over the months (years? feels like it, but only just), for all their banter, for all their playful and bordering on obnoxious mutual bullshit, Pax does take Corbin seriously. In fact, when it’s called for, Corbin would wager that Pax might be the one person that takes Corbin the most seriously—at least, in the ways and times that Corbin wants to be. 

It’s like the merchant knows exactly when to dial back the wise cracking, and by how much. And he also knows when not to, for Corbin’s sake. When to inject a little lightness into something on which maybe even Corbin has lost a little perspective. His instinct with it, and with Corbin, and with how to navigate Corbin’s many layers, is better than most, perhaps because he’s one of shockingly few people who’s seen Corbin’s other dimensions. Who even knows they exist at all. On a fundamental level, Pax seems to understand the hubristic, swaggering Delma, and though it’s rarely talked about in so many words, it never goes unnoticed. At least not by Corbin.

So Pax doesn’t press—though something in his eyes tells Corbin that he could, that he thinks about it, even—but he also doesn’t crack jokes. He asks a simple, direct question—and though it should be straight forward enough, and his tone suggests that it is, Corbin feels at a loss regardless. He’s quiet a moment, searching Pax’s face. His mouth opens, casting around for a reply he doesn’t find, and then he shakes his head.] Shit, I dunno mate. Nothing? What do you mean? What can I do? 

[He’d not really thought about it, to be honest. He’d not thought about it because he’d not wanted to think on it anymore than he’d had. He’d not wanted to dwell, and he’d more or less run from the feeling of sick disappointment and betrayal. Perhaps he’d thought he’d just had to accept that he’d misjudged his relationship with Mouth, but otherwise move on and pretend it hadn’t happened. Ish. He’s not sure he can trust Mouse anymore, but at the same time… he hates drama. Talking to Mouse about it seemed out of the question, as did making a fuss about it.] 

[ Pax finally stands. Not abruptly, more with a lazy conviction to leave the space. And not the space of the booth, although few things can keep his restless nature seated in the best of times. 

He walks around to the other side, stopping to drop long fingers tented on the table top. A pause to look at Corbin, with lips parted in a way that makes Pax want reach over and strum them like the strings of a guitar. Ealy slid into the middle of this, the heretical treehouse threesome, likely lured by what is hurting the most in the corner of the booth rather than signing up for anything. 

Corbin trusted someone. The wrong people. Pax feels the irritation too. He’s had the same conversation with Mouse, but long ago. The merchant thought things had changed. 

To hear he, they, they both, have wasted so much fucking time, well. Pax is not sure being pissed off quite covers what he’s feeling.

If he is a melt for this blue-eyed bastard who has readily shared a drink from a flask with him, it may not come across immediately with what he’s about to say. Speaking of his drink, Pax takes his from the other side of the table for a few gulps before resting his hands again across from Corbin. ] I get you.  

[ He does. He really does with Corbin, the exception to everything around. Which makes it all the more difficult. Pax is tired of nothing. Nothing happening, or talk disintegrating into nothing. It’s all the same at this point. ] But I’m going through with it. If ‘it’ is 100 people or just me, I don’t actually care anymore. 

[ Sounds so fucking dramatic. When really, Pax just wants to play darts. Relax. Not be dramatic, maybe toss around a few innuendos like the old days. Not have to waste any energy worrying. Especially over Mouse. It took ages for Pax to trust the kid... but he’s waited ages too. Hanging on. Anticipating a time that never seems to open up for him. 

It does get a bit too much. A glance is cast at the dart board after all. ] I’ll talk to Mouse. But I’m not changing my mind, I’m not changing anything. 

[ Pax can’t brush this one off, he has to move forward. ] I’m... also gonna play darts now. [ As much as he wants to reassure Corbin, to make things right for him, he probably can’t. Focusing on aiming spikes into steeply designed triangles for points seems like the best thing to do, and Pax walks over to the nearest board for a fistful of three darts. ] 

Promising Beginnings -Paxton/Kaiser

[Kaiser’s reaction to Paxton.. at least thus far in their meetings, had been mild. A low chuckle, a snarky arch of his brow, and of course.. relentless flirting. It wasn’t surprising to the German, as Paxton continued the way they had been going. A clever young man.. worldly for his age.. Kaiser could only assume. As well as something Kaiser had noticed with every interaction. This young man wielded his words and vocabulary as a weapon, as a shield almost. Deflecting, rerouting and manipulating a conversation skillfully until he’d worked  the discussion around to what he’d wanted all along.  It was something he’d seen in a rare few these days.. the little black fox and the tomcat came to mind. But this young man, however. Blue eyes sharpened a bit as Kaisers chin tipped back and he cocked his head. For a man so young, Semenyuk certainly had the mind and drive of a fucking political shark.

He knew there was a reason he liked the kid.

As Paxton spoke once more, flaring with praise and on the same hand challenging Kaisers intentions, the large wolf of a man grinned. Preened in the compliments that had been doled on him. And when Paxton challenge him, his smile only brightened. That grin resilient as he shifted on his heels. Head still canted, he chuckled.]

Talented.. ah but it’s a talent, what you do.

[He commented casually, not yet elaborating on the fact that the talent was to weave those expectations of his into such lauding praises. Instead, the Warlord glanced around, shoulder bopping in a loose shrug.]

Perhaps I’ll tell you sometime, when theres more privacy [He casually evaded, gaze locking onto Paxtons own. The man wasn’t wrong. Making shit happen.. getting information. It was simply amusing… that he would ask why Kaiser needed him after stating the very reason.]

That is, for a bit of.. ah. What’s the phrase? Quid-Pro-Quo?

[His brows arched, playful and casual as his fingers scratched at his beard.] 

 I’m looking to do a lot of things.. a lot of things that could help you, if you can help me too, Elite. You must know plenty. About all the secrets here, the hotspots of power..

>figure>

[His tone faded, deliberately casual.]

The Illness.

[ ‘Perhaps I’ll tell you sometime, when there’s more privacy.’] My stall here not doin’ it for you, babe? Noted. Next time I’ll get the bubble bath ready and spread rose petals out for you, sweet thing. 

[ Dark brows raise. Kaiser leaves his sidewinder snake trail in the sand. Paxton follows, of course. Can’t help but to. It’s way too much fun. The Hub-speak they both exchange begins to head in a predictable direction, but veers near the end towards a point, a landmark Pax did not expect. 

‘The illness’. Well, it’s a nice way of putting it. ]

Yeah, that’s the phrase. I rub your.... back? You rub mine. Sounds like my kind of fun. Latin gets me hard too, not gonna lie. 

[ He knows Kaiser wants ‘secrets’ and not a hand job. Pax will give him a freebie-- because it’s not a secret. ] There are plenty of rumors and theories flying around about the virus. But no one knows anything for sure. 

[ The sickness that spread so quickly and ended just as fast is a memory now for Paxton. The conspiracies he’s heard in the Hub... well, they sound pretty legit to him. The NWRF, through actions more than words, have made it abundantly clear how much of a threat the infected are. How they are salivating over a potential biological weapon to be developed to effectively neuter the collective power of the infections. ]

save it for later || felix & pax

Oh, [Felix waves a hand, dismissive to the dining hall, grateful for the excuse to leave it, hopeful that Paxton will let it slide, will not insist he stay and eat, will not think more of it than he has to, because it’s always so much harder with the kinds of people who are so concerned about food and nutrition, who make Felix explain, who won’t take no for an answer. Why can’t he just not be hungry? Why isn’t that ever enough?] That’s like, so sweet of you, handsome, but I’m not even hungry, actually. No worries at all! I wouldn’t want to keep you anyway—Mr. Busy, what with all your merchant-ing jobs and stuff. 

Oh, unless you’d like to have a bite—then it’s okay, I can wait, darling. [He’s being nice, because Pax has done something for him, and hopefully will continue to do things for him in the future. He’s a service man. Felix has paid for a service, and now he’s getting a receipt, and he glances at his PDD when it blinks with Paxton’s message, but he doesn’t concern himself with the total. He has plenty of credits that carried over from his last Colony, and even if he didn’t, he could just go to father and explain his situation, he’s sure he’d make sure it was covered. In fact, maybe he’d do that anyway—he has enough to pay for it, probably, but his Dad is always so concerned about Felix being happy and taken care of, and he totally supports his music, so like, he’d probably definitely foot the bill for this. Felix probably wouldn’t even have to try that hard….] 

Seriously though, thank you so much. I’m so excited—God, I’ve missed playing so much, you have no idea. Where did you learn to tune a piano, by the way? Did you play? 

[ Felix seems relieved, high stepping around Pax and unnecessarily buttering him up with a ‘handsome’, ‘Mr. Busy’-- little wisps of sweet talk that aren’t needed. Pax’s head shakes slow. ] Hey, I get it. The apocalypse permanently killed my appetite too. 

[ It’s a lot more complicated than that, but nothing unhealthy or to be concerned by. More embedded in Pax’s weird, personal dogma attached to the day-to-day, trapped in amber life of the Colony. Personal grievances of towards the slop known as ‘the soup of the day’. Wanting to avoid being beholden any further to this place than needed. Too many things. 

Felix, on the other hand, becomes a little antsy with a scattershot of cajoling and darlings. But maybe he is just excited to move on to the music room. Maybe he is a lot more awkward than he thinks he is, and the cafeteria exacerbates the awkwardness. 

Fuck if Pax knows. Anyway... ] Yeah. No problem. [ He waves Felix on to follow him to the music room. ] You should be excited, the fucker was not in the best of shape. But it will do what you need it to do now. 

[ A shrug. ] I had lessons when I was a kid but I don’t really play now. My father did. He also played cello. He left a tenured position as a professor in Canada to move to London and pursue his dream. Joined an small orchestra. They toured around Europe. [ A pause. It may be the most he’s ever said about his father in one go. Pax doesn’t want to think about it anymore, it’s depressing and also frustrating. ] But I used to watch him tune his own piano. And then I found a few videos on Echo, read a few manuals. It was a pain in the ass for sure. I don’t think people realize what goes into it. 

When did you learn to play. [ Pax is not one to fill silences with chatter. But Felix is so, so he may as well give the guy direction, hear something Paxton may be half-way interested in. ] 

[She ponders it for a moment. Annie does still need sleep, she knows. She also knows how hard it can be for her. And she doesn’t like it when she can tell Annie is having nightmares. It’s confusing and upsetting to not know what to do to help someone in situations like that. She gives him a small nod.] I hope she’s able to find a solution to her sleeping problem, too. [Mira blinks and is quiet for a few beats, but then adds,] And I hope that whatever gives you trouble sleeping at times gets resolved soon, too.

[Mira gives him a nod.] Oh. You worked with technology? [She sounds a little more cheerful. She know he does here, but she thought that was something he learned because nobody else wanted to. She doesn’t think Pax would really understand some of the ways she worked, at least not yet. She doesn’t know what kind of technology he’s worked with. But maybe if he did it would be interesting to ask her if he could help her with some of the glitches she has or the confusing things she sometimes feels.] Oh, yes. Good to help you stay awake. [she says with a small smile as she holds her mug. She looks at the tea, but doesn’t take a sip. It’s warm in her hands. When Pax asks her a question, she looks back up to him.]

Hm? Oh, yes. I don’t usually call him that out loud because I think it confuses people when an android calls someone their father. But yes, I always considered him as that. He did make me and build me up to be the best version of myself, much like some real fathers do. I’m sorry if there was any confusion with that.

You know what, Mira? [ A snap of his fingers, a point to the redhead. ] I hope she does find a solution. 

[ Few genuine thoughts come out of his mouth, to the point in which he asks himself, did you mean it? Yes. Yes he did. This place. This fucking place. Tears him down hour by hour, minute by minute. And then all the hate helps to build him back up, reset for the next hour of solitude, boredom, irritation, and resentment. Annie is sweet. She’s nice. She deserves a restful night of sleep without fearing it.

And as he builds himself again with a cup of tea, he nods, then blows a ripple across the top of his cup. ] I did. Have always been good with computers. Not just coding, but taking them apart, repairing. [ Finding ways to connect and disconnect. He nods at her cup. ] Gonna try it? 

Well. [ He starts, as he does. Well. A word he uses way too much. About as much as he does ‘but’ or ‘however’. ] No confusion at all. An android can have a father, can’t they? Or anyone can have a father in the non-traditional sense. As long as they took care of you. Show a little patience and understanding. Do you miss him? [ A pause. ] Hey, what happens, you know, when you break down and shit like that? 

PROFOUND PRESERVATION || mitch & pax

P. SEMENYUK​:

[[ The admission hangs between them for a moment, meaningful, and Mitch bites at the inside of his cheek as he nods. Pax continues, brusque as ever, and regardless of intention Mitch can’t help but feel judged – or rather, that his next words will be. That fact doesn’t bother him. He rather supposes he deserves it, for his continued inaction.

Mitch doesn’t answer the question right away, instead folding his arms tightly over his chest. His words take a different direction first. ]] You and I both know Rhys never did anything to stir the pot except, of course, develop an ability. So you and I both know exactly why he was transferred. [[ Another pause, though more for the sake of properly choosing and ordering his words than for dramatic effect. ]] I’ve kept my head down for so long for fear that stepping out of line would get me transferred, like they did Nadine or Grayson.

[[ He shakes his head. ]] But I told someone recently that I’d rather get whisked away for doing something than for doing nothing at all. For simply existing in a way they don’t like. [[ Mitch unfolds his arms again in a wide, frustrated gesture, palms out. ]] I don’t know what I’ll do. If there’s a less hypothetical direction to move in, I’ll hear it. But what I’ve always wanted to do is protect people, and it’s becoming glaringly obvious to me I’m barely doing that, if at all.

Yeah. I know why he’s gone. [ Ouch. The mention of Rhys gets him again, right in the heart. The guy certainly doesn’t deserve to be shipped off. 

The reliable ones, the ones he can simply have a somewhat normal conversation with, are few and far between now. He’s always hated the place but it’s so hard to be here now, day by day, when the people he can consistently count on keep dropping like flies. So to speak. 

At least Mitch is admitting why he turns his head, usually, to regimental rules and what is simply blatantly wrong with the place. Yes, he gets it. But there is a very obvious way to move forward. Pax is not sure Mitch is ready to hear, so he keeps it to himself. He’s still on the fence about Mitch but perhaps the older Elite is inching forward and will be ready to hear more soon. ]

Existing is the key word, isn’t it? [ He says as flat and dry as the bed of a salt lake. ] I know you want to protect people. [ It isn’t as though Mitch is an asshole. As Pax has thought before, maybe a push (or a shove) needs to be given. ] It’s worth keeping your eyes open. Especially right now. [ A glance is cast, again, down the hall. ] I need to get moving, but. 

[ He hesitates, what Pax is about to say is out of character. But not unplanned. ] Would it be okay if I drop by sometimes. For a chat? 

seedlings of intention | pax + teilo

[He actually releases a bit of a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding at Pax’s response. It’s level headed and dotted with options, possibilities. He echos Teilo’s notions of caution and thoughtful early steps, and it’s a relief. It’s not that Teilo had ever really thought what he’d been hoping for wouldn’t be possible—the main question mark had been concerning whether Pax would be on board with the notion at all. Willing to take that kind of risk. 

But he sounds plenty confident, and unconcerned about these stages, at least. He’s made contact in the past, for his own purposes. This is good. He has the tools and the experience to make the whole thing a little less daunting. Looks like Zach had been digging in the right place—at least where Pax was concerned.

It’s Pax’s turn to ask questions, and Teilo can’t say he minds. It demonstrates that the Torren may be interested in more than just helping Teilo as a favour he might cash in on later, but possibly also the cause itself. Perhaps Pax will have his own reasons to become a part of this in a long term way.] 

This has been on my mind for a long time. I first heard of the NAR in no more than whispers back when the Reformists first took over Colony 2. It piqued by interest then, but things seemed to be escalating there quickly, and my focus turned to more immediate problems. Like Sid—yes, he’s a part of it. A big part of it. But… since then it’s become more than that. I wouldn’t say anything specific has happened since, but being here and seeing how things are going politically with the NWRF—that’s enough, isn’t it?  It’s clear we need change, but we need something that has more of a chance of making a difference, and I’m not convinced radical tactics are the way to do it. In fact, I worry the Radicals are only adding fuel to the fire—things like that raid I’ve been hearing about that happened last year: that’s just giving the Reformists ammo to use against the Infected, to make their case. 

The problem is the Radicals are too polarizing—I see no good coming of it. What we need is something rational, something to deescalate the situation, if possible. Long term, we need reasonable government, and I can only hope that the NAR could be the beginning of something like that. And I’m trying to take steps to move forward with it because, well… someone has to, right? And coming here evidently didn’t have the effect Sid and I had hoped for, so I might as well make use of the trip some other way. Make leaving my family behind a worthwhile sacrifice. Not that I regret what I Sid and I did—I could never. But… when things don’t go as you expected, you adapt. Maybe coming out here has opened doors for us neither of us anticipated when we left. 

[ For Pax, the situation has always been clear cut, since the moment NWRF stepped foot inside the Colony gates. The issue between Reformers and infected is not a difference of opinion. Despotic power minimizing the rights of those deemed different should be clear cut and where one stands on either side simple to determine. 

However, Pax knows people want to protect their own interests first, especially if they aren’t infected. It has taken so long to reach this point. Whatever path they take to get there, fine, as long as they finally arrive. Teilo wants to plod along steadily, building a solid case against a defendant as any prosecutor would. ]  

Is a ‘reasonable’ government here possible with the NWRF involved? How much bargaining do you think it would require? [ Neither has a crystal ball but it is worth thinking about. ] There are radicals inside these walls too. Do you plan to bring ‘em on board? 

[ Teilo is most definitely aiming high in even offering to step forward into the fray. Pax can only commend him for it. ] Obviously I don’t know what the NAR looks like yet at the nearest colonies. We’ll find it out shortly. But if they aren’t organized, if they have no real philosophy or action plan, will you take it on yourself to do so here? 

[ He knows he’s dumped a lot of hypothetical questions on Teilo, so Pax pauses. This is Teilo’s idea and game plan, so he’s not going to interject but rather see where the other wants to go with it all. And Pax has already offered help, he’s not going to change his mind. Pax is prepared to offer even more if this thing gets up and running. There have been a few minor victories, exposing the weak points in the NWRF facade. But many, many more abandoned schemes, lost hope, and empty promises. ] This is my opinion only, but if there has ever been a time for something like this to catch fire, it’s now. 

[ There are more questions to ask. Pax always has questions. But he imagines Teilo has some for him as well, so he hangs on to them. ] 

BACK TO THE TREEHOUSE |TTB {MOUSE, CORBIN, PAX}

call-corbin​:

ambiguous-tech​:

[ Mouse rules there shall be no more discussion of sexy superheroes. Highly disappointing. Pax focuses on organizing thoughts solidifying between them. He nods, hums, gives an ‘mhm’ along the way– yes, staking out the lab and comparing notes with the strict schedule maintained isn’t a problem. Yes, he can hack into the camera feed to the lab. Yes, perhaps suppertime or before/after is a good time. 

Wheels begin to roll down the track picking up plausible steam to get to the main destination of destroying the lab. Mouse wants to look at what happens after. ] I’m thinking… this is a decent outline to work with. I get with Andee and sort out where everything was in the labs that time we got in there. So we can have a clearer picture of exactly what controlled chaos we want to happen in the lab. Then, we’ll know who can help and what roles they play. It will give a better idea for alibis after. And how to handle what will come after.

[ He pauses, connecting to the look Mouse shares with them both. The NWRF came down fairly hard after the tattoo incident which should have easily been considered a harmless, reversible prank. What they talk about doing now is much, much more serious. 

It would be infinitely more helpful to have others in higher positions willing to participate. But maybe it is also why this is so exciting. Homegrown discontent organized by the least organized people around. 

Feels like he’s contributed nothing more than a summary at the end, but it drives home how much there is to do before hammering out the details of the actual day to come. Really, not a damn thing can happen until people are recruited and trained with a bit more incentive than what happens in the Rink. 

They agree on what needs to happen and how to make it happen. In his mind, action is going to get them moving over chatting like they are plotting a surprise party. The training piece in particular needs time. ] Anything else we need to discuss or haven’t already?

@call-corbin​

[Corbin nods along to Mouse and Pax’s summaries, chewing his lip. As Pax trails off, clearly eager to get going on action, rather than talk, as he always is, Corbin tries to wrap his head around the quick list Mouse had outlined.] Right, okay, so—Pax, you talk to Andee then and do your thing—maybe make whatever notes ya can on these prints, yeah? Make it as clear as you guys can fer whichever lucky kinetics we wind up bringin’ on board. And maybe both of ya talk to whoever ya gotta about that. Lake, that Ajay bloke, and whoever else, and maybe try ta get some kind of practicin’ thing going, yeah? Like, secret trainin’, [he smirks a little.] Dumbledore’s Army, vibes. 

As fer Mitch… [he shrugs.] I dunno, personally I reckon it’s a good idea to keep an open mind with him. Maybe fer now we just get our feelers out with him. Try to get an idea whether he’d be interested or not, without revealin’ too much. I might try to talk to him… we all know I’m real good at doin’ the distractin’, rambly bit, so. I’ll let ya know if I come up with anything. 

But let’s try to nail down these Kinetics fast, yeah? ‘Cause that seems like the most important part right now. Then we can figure out answerin’ Mouse’s after-alibi questions, like Pax said. I mean, I do like the idea of slippin’ back into our routines and pretendin’ nuthin’ happened, much as possible. We’ll just have to figure out who we got, and where we’ll be in our schedule when it goes down, then we can figure out alibis. 

@mouse–quinley​

[It is starting to shape itself into an actual plan, to be deployed at the proper time. Of course Mouse knows that things rarely go unchanged, no matter how meticulous you plan them, but it helps to begin to solidify who’s involved, and how it’ll work.]

[Listening to the others, he still kind of misses the days of simply doing things with his group. Maybe because they knew each other better, and a lot of this could go unsaid, and maybe in part because Mouse had been more in charge. If this were just the Lost Boys, they’d have gone through with the actual attack weeks ago.] 

[Of course, if this were just the Lost Boys, they’d also likely all have been caught and thrown into Correctional after the fact, too. They weren’t the right tool for the job, not in this case. They couldn’t accomplish what he needed to, not on their own, and he knew as much. Hence more people, different methods, and a slower process. Fancy things, like telekinesis and blueprints. It’s smarter, what they’re doing now. Doesn’t stop Mouse getting a little wistful about it at times. A familiar restlessness pushes against his skin, and he claps his hands on his knees. Enough talk.] 

Right! [He’s ready to get back out there, put motion behind the direction.] Until next time, lads, or ‘til we fuck somethin’ up major an’ need to meet up to fix it, I s’pose. [Delivered with hearty optimism, and he dives to snatch another cinnamon roll from the stack before heading towards the ladder.] 

Are you always this keen on conversation when you’re working?

{With little else left to be done he steps away from the desk, instead taking a seat in one of the armchairs in the far corner of the room. Pax is still in his line of sight, Clove’s somewhat sour demeanour probably more than enough to discourage any dumb ideas of snooping. Eventually, however, he grows weary, instead leaning back in the chair to rest his head against the wall.}

Trust me, if it were up to me, the Games would no longer exist. I’ve yet to come to a logical explanation as to why people seem so fond of them. Probably some animalistic instinct that makes us think we enjoy running around in the forest shooting one another.

[ ‘Are you always this keen on conversation when you’re working?’ Pax hummed a low laugh with eyes on Clove’s for longer than necessary before continuing. 

The Games. A staple even before Pax arrived at the Colony. They do trigger a competitiveness he’s long forgotten, but in the end if they aren’t held Pax will not sit around wishing for them to return. The comment Clove makes is funny in a lot of ways, telling in others. ] So cancel them. Thought the big bag NWRF has all the power. Get rid of ‘em. 

[ He realizes a part is needed and Pax checks his own tablet for inventory. ] Trust me, no one’s gonna get pissed about it.

call-corbin‌:

[It’s no use, apparently; this ‘keeping it light’ schtick. He can’t disguise the nature of the subject matter, no matter how hard he tried to make jokes and beat around the bush. Pax is right: it is something of a bomb. Corbin has the decency to feel guilty again, and though a part of him is relieved at the idea of being able to talk to Pax about it, another part of him still regrets that he has to be the one to bring the ‘drama’ to the Torren. Corbin has always hated drama, and so it’s cringy, feeling like he’s at the centre of it, like he’s somehow responsible. He feels… well, a little embarrassed, even if he felt confident it was Mouse who’d sparked the conflict. 

Pax asks for details, for clarification, and Corbin realizes he’s made his bed, and he now has to lie in it. Pax deserves more than the vague bullshit Corbin’s giving him now, but Corbin is also just afraid to make too big of a deal of it. He winces a little, rubbing his hand over his face and taking a drink.] Right, right, sorry mate. He basically just… flat out told me that if it came down to it, he’d betray us—me, you, the whole lot of it—if he had to. That if he had to throw us under the bus, he would, ‘cause what matters to him is his fuckin’ Lost Boys, still and that’s it. That’s his motive. I reckon I thought… I dunno. I thought we were mates now, though. I know he cares ‘bout those kids and I get that, but I thought… s’pose I saw him as a mate now, too. But from the sounds of it, he’s usin’ me, end of story. Bloody sucked to hear. And he had the fuckin’ gall to make it sound like I was the one who was an idiot for ever thinkin’ it was any different. 

But fuck, maybe he’s right. Maybe it serves me fuckin’ right fer lettin’ myself forget that everyone and their uncle is just out fer their fuckin’ selves. I mean… that’s me too, ain’t it? Or it… was anyway. Dunno when the fuck that changed but… 

[ For someone who can chat himself into oblivion over the most minor of things, Corbin gives few details even when pressed. But where is this coming from? What started it, what caused Mouse to say anything so stupid, invest all this time and effort if that’s how he felt? If Pax hadn’t pried more, would he have never known or is Mouse stomping his way to the Catch to announce it to the merchant? Or would it have waited until their next meeting? It’s.... 

What the fuck? 

It’s so oddly timed and oddly placed. His stomach should be dropping, a nest of anxiety should be cradling his heart. The molten core of rage from all these years makes both of those things impossible. 

He can’t doubt Corbin, and if he’s not going to give Pax any more to go on - a landmark, a shallow grave of discontent between the other two he can dig through for clues --Paxton won’t press him. He drinks in several long seconds of silence. ] So what are you gonna now. 

[ Pax knows exactly what he has to do. ]

The Book I Read || Elly & Pax

[There’s more to the story—of course there is. But trust Pax to pick up on that. Rote responses aren’t really his thing, she’s noticed. Even if he ducks behind them swiftly when it comes to himself. He pushes his inquiries beneath the surface like splinters, the questions sharp enough to sting even before she answers.] 

Hmm. We did. [Damn you, slyly giving a shit enough to ask. She chuckles, bone dry, and pushes through to speaking again.]

We did get married, fast. And no one thought I was old enough, or in my right mind for it. [She elaborates, quietly.] Not my dad, not most of our so-called friends—sure as hell not my sister. [She narrows her eyes at him, almost smiling. A thin press of lips that curves only a fraction, somewhere between fondness and a grimace. But it’s not like they’ve been in the habit of sugar coating anything, not in their whole ridiculous friendship, and she can’t hold it against him.] 

[Why hide scar tissue—nothing is shiny and unmarred anymore. And if it is, the likes of them don’t need it.]

Kids… [Her voice trails off, and she skips her nails against the desk, almost in illustration.] Were on the table. Not as something I’d pictured. But I was open to the idea of… doing better by someone than had been done by me? [She rests her chin idly on her hand, remembering Lucy’s careful, methodical reasoning in the sun-soaked kitchenette of her apartment one sleepy afternoon. Her argument was driven by heart, underneath, but she’d known that a logical outline would secretly appeal to Elly. For all her apparent love of anarchy, there’s a whole lot of need for stability in her framework, and Lu always understood that.] We talked about adoption a lot, and not like, babies, but grown kids who just needed a safe spot. Even if I did think—do think—I might not be a great mom, that seemed… like something I could handle, given time…

[Waking up and finding people gone is something she is acutely aware of, as part of their life here. The halls are lined with ghosts—they each carry their own personal armada. He must have one more today. Which makes her feel bitter, and protective. She hurts for him.]

Thinking’s hazardous. [She agrees, softly.] Just don’t do it. [She adds, as though they have any choice in the matter. On impulse, she reaches across and brushes the hair across his forehead. Barely grazing, and pulling back an instant later. Affectionate displays don’t come easy—they’re normally cold enough to be shrugged off by everyone involved. Nothing to see here.]

[She clears her throat. And rolls her eyes] Oh, we’ll probably never know who your mysterious letter-writer was—only what they want us to know. [She’s half certain it was just Pax, from the start.] The library closes at half past I don’t give a duck’s ass, thanks for asking. Do we need locks for anything in here, or do you simply want to sell me locks? I will run out of spleens eventually. [It feels safe to slip back into cynicism and teasing again. Predictable, comforting. A merchant and a fake librarian, both chock full of snark.] 

[Nothing to see here.]

[ Pax doesn’t actually expect Elly to spill her guts. First of all-- it’s Elly. If anyone can slow dance around a topic with sarcasm and a wink as her dancing partner, it is this girl. 

But not many are open with Paxton, even when he’s feeling generous and offering up the rare option. Andee has, however... well, Andee is Andee, isn’t she? Refreshingly so, with nothing to hide, embracing vulnerability rather than pulling a ripcord of escape. And Elly, he wouldn’t call her secretive. She’s protective of a timeline no longer in sequence with the one she is currently in. 

In the library, it changes. Maybe it isn’t so much Pax she is talking to but the beloved books Elly is surrounded by. He listens to the story drawing him in. With a smile bordering on unfolding to obscure what she’s saying at any moment. A tap of nails, the same energized gleam in her eyes that is always there. He can see her living in a moment, exciting and brave, one he’s never seen her acknowledge fully.

Pax does not necessarily relate with future plans from the past. The way Elly tells it warms old memories, but he wasn’t pulled away from those things either. Not cut off from one world and hurled into another. He hates what has happened to Elly even more. 

There is something she says that fits a narrowly carved out space in his chest. So he counters from a point he knows all too well. ] I think you’d make a great mom. Sometimes it’s all someone needs. A person that’s interested, to look out for them. Doing better than someone did to you, like you said. I’m sure your wife would’ve been too. You don’t really hang out with assholes. Other than me. 

[ Sadly, there is no turning back time, even for those who jump ahead. He doesn’t notice, at first, the thick shag hanging over his eyes has been moved. He looks up, out of the storyline running in his mind. It’s the nicest thing anyone has done here, so there isn’t a need to mention it. ] I don’t think that often. 

[ He smiles, a crooked half of one, but it’s enough. And then dark brows lift and fall, eyes turn in the direction of where the letter was found so long ago, the grin becomes one of pride. ] The writer will remain an unsolved mystery of the Colony. 

[ Pax stand up and after a few seconds his head shakes. ] Nah. This place is safe enough, isn’t it? Don’t think we need to sully this bastion of knowledge by imposing such antiquated things, turning it into a prison like the rest of the place. [ He speaks relaxed now, drawls-- there is nothing quite like a secret shared in few words and little explanation. Elly knows exactly why he asks, as sure as he knows why he has asked himself. ] Do me a favor and hang on to the spleen, okay? We don’t need anything, including locks. [ Definitely not locks. ] 

angel-thorne‌:

No one specific. [Angel waves the question off with his usual airiness; he really couldn’t name anyone in particular, though he is aware that anyone in search of a quiet time would likely not want to seek him out.

He does slip Pax a sideways glance of curiosity at the ego comment, if only because most people equate Angel’s overblown ego with fragility, as though it’s some delicate bubble waiting to pop at the least slight. It’s both true and untrue – Angel is often too self absorbed to be particularly offended by anyone else’s opinions, but on the occasions when he does listen, his feelings can be quite quickly hurt.

He is about to expand on what sort of camera he thinks Maisie is looking for (he doesn’t know for sure, because she didn’t actually say. She’d been far too caught up in the flattery of Angel offering to do something for her). But, Pax shifts gear abruptly in a way that doesn’t seem to invite any expansion.

Angel is always happy to discuss his past – most of it, anyway. He prefers not to get into the darker parts of it. But he is interested in why Pax is asking, quite out of the blue as well. Pax is distinctly not a small-talker, and Angel shifts to get a better look at his face. Maybe it’s a know-your-enemy thing, trying to ascertain just how much of a threat Angel is. As far as Angel is concerned he’s a threat to no one, but those that are attached to their Infections seem to differ.] 

Producer, songwriter – [Angel nods.] had me own band too, Wing’ed Things. Not terribly pertinent to anything we do here, but… they asked if I wanted to work, and I like to keep myself busy. Why d’you ask? [The polite thing is to ask Pax what he did before, but Angel is more interested in why Pax wants to know. He finds himself a little suspicious, based on the limited knowledge he has of the man.] 

[ He has to admit, not one for chat typically but it is beginning to get a little interesting. The front Angel gives off at the moment isn’t the one Pax has heard of. No talk about ‘the Light’, as others have chuckled over to Paxton, in fact seems like there is a bit of a cloud hanging ‘round Angel’s head today. To be fair, Pax usually gets a different version of others around here. And they really will slot anyone into a position to work, no matter what their skill set. Breathing and with a heart beat are generally the only criteria. Pax can speak first hand about it. 

Wing’ed Things. Oh yeah. He nods with a small smile. ] Ah, I remember the band, you guys were pretty good. [ Both Annabel and Aubrey loved them too. Aubrey, especially. She wore one of their shirts on the first date they ever had. Life is funny. Why does he ask? He shrugs, harmless, answering a buzz on his PDD quickly before returning attention to Angel. ] No reason. Just curious. 

[ He’s never met a musician who didn’t want to run through their entire discography or delve into the details. What they play, or if they sing. Where they play (or used to play, anyway). How many are in the band, how they met, thoughts on how flaky drummers are the number they’ve gone through. Pax supposed for Angel, the name needs no introduction or description. Or Angel is raising a guard, putting distance between them. Which is also fine and to be expected. ] Wing’ed Things just kind of... stopped? Broke up or somethin’?

There are a few musicians around here. You must love it, huh?