northstarx (northstarx) wrote in x_aftermath_x, @ 2008-09-23 23:06:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | aurora, northstar |
Who: Northstar & Aurora
When: Thursday October 9th, 2008 (evening)
Where: His room
What: Trying to deal
Status: Closed
Rating: PG
Jean Paul found himself walking about his room again. He hadn't realized how many memories were in this room. His hand trailed over DVD's watched with friends or his sister. He pondered over the few pictures he kept. There was one of Alpha Flight that he picked up and gazed at. There he was with his sister and all the rest. This picture had been taken before Walter had altered her DNA, when they still had that special connection. It was Aurora in the picture of course, hanging all over Langkowski. Jeanne Marie would never be seen in spandex. Whose idea had that been anyways? Jean Paul much preferred the X-men outfits. They protected a bit better. He put the picture down and looked across the room.
There was the stain on his wall. He was standing next to it, fingers lightly touching the stain where Joe had thrown his hot chocolate. The thought of Joe brought his mind back to the very thing he was trying to forget, just for a moment. Joe had been in the room when he had woken, along with McCoy. Jean Paul had felt such an animalistic desire to do something... hurt, kiss, fuck, feed. It has washed over him in a terrifying sudden wave. It certainly had distracted him from the fact that Hank was apparently actually alive and not a pain filled delusion. Apparently such reactions were expected, and he had enough control to clamp down on the unexpected desires for Recon to leave. He dreaded to wonder what might have happened if he had been still holding a grudge with Joe over their breakup. Or if he, Jean Paul, had actually still wanted him badly. The fact that he had once been with Joe made that dark side believe the man to be his anyways, despite current feelings or interests.
Jean and Hank had arrived a bit later as he had been in a minor panic about what the hell was going on. The pain of the change had been washing over him before they even made it to the plane. His accelerated metabolism working against him as it spread the new virus through his body with enthusiasm. Jean Paul leaned his head against the wall, his fingers still touching that stain. Control. He was infected and the disease wanted him to loose control. To loose himself to a dark hungry beast inside. To some extent it reminded him of the Kara Killgrave episode. Being forced to do things against his will. And then the whole thing with Demon in the gym hadn't been any better, for all that it was at least the correct sex. Now though, it wasn't someone on the outside who wanted to control his actions. It was inside.
He wondered if this was anything like his sister had to deal with. Neither of her personalities were particularly evil per se. But they did hate eachother. Neither wanted to give control to the other. Except if he lost control there, Jean Paul wasn't going to come back and there would be piles of dead bodies in his wake. He pulled away from the wall and swayed slightly before moving on. Vampirism, the new breed of insanity. Well the Beaubier twins could be a matched set now. Not really though. They hadn't been a matched set since Walter's meddling. Now they were even more different. He could live forever, he healed, was stronger, drank blood. Living forever... and that meant definitely outliving his sister, and most everyone he cared about. He couldn't even play with the idea of having her be infected too. Hank had explained, and Northstar could feel it. Such control was needed to keep that beast at bay. Neither Aurora nor Jeanne Marie would be able to hold long against it. Not that he would want to do so anyways. This wasn't a blessing.
Jean Paul opened his closet and stared. He had forgotten about the full length mirror. How? He had no idea. He had made sure it would be here so that he could make sure he was perfect before going anywhere important. That was one vampire myth that didn't hold true for this change. He could see himself. He had always been a beautiful man, and acknowledged that fact freely. (Something many thought as arrogant) Now though, he was something beyond that. There had been those who had taken a look at his ears and called him and elf or fairy (and that was BEFORE he had announced to the world he was gay.) Now it seemed as if it was true. There was an ethereal quality to his skin tone, his hair, his eyes, everything. Like a venus fly trap, a pretty package for bait. He despised all its unnatural origins. It made him sick.
There was a shattering of glass and Jean Paul pulled back his hand to see the cuts healing themselves. How many times had he envied Wolverine his healing factor? What a fool. He would give it back in a moment if he could just be himself again. Someone who could occasionally let loose. Let people in. He had kept everyone at arms length when coming here, and some of them had slowly wormed their way into his life, his heart. How dangerous was that now? How easy to loose control when you actually care? Eternal life, but what kind of life would his be?
They just had to find a cure for this new plague. Jean Paul didn’t think he could bear to find out the answer. Until then he would just have to remain in control and take one night at a time.