Jamie Kowalski (group_mentality) wrote in incostume, @ 2016-07-27 21:24:00 |
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Entry tags: | - scene, adam viereck, jamie kowalski |
WHO: Jamie Kowalski and Adam Viereck
WHAT: Adam tries to pick Jamie up and Jamie shuts him down
WHEN: Wednesday night
WHERE: La Cantina
WARNINGS: n/a
STATUS: Complete log
Adam watched as Jamie hit the ground in the ring, the bell ringing out for the end of the fight, the crowd exploding in cheers and financial exchanges. It was a bit difficult to weed his way through the group as the winner stumbled his way out to greet the crowd, but a few carefully planted words had people parting and making way for Adam like it was the only thing they desired in life. He stopped at the bar first, getting a small bag of ice, and then made his way back to the ring just in time for Jamie to drag himself out. “Hey,” he greeted flatly, holding out the ice. He wasn’t sure how this was going to go, honestly, but he rarely did with Jamie. He wasn’t surprised to see Adam there, holding a fistful of ice that he was definitely going to place at his temple. It was a misguided hit - as if a hit to the head would make his powers stop - but it hurt nonetheless. He wondered if he’d know by the amount of pain whether it was fractured, but he decided that he didn’t feel particularly woozy, so a concussion was probably out. “Thanks,” he replied, eyes flickering up just enough to catch the bottom of Adam’s line of sight before moving past him, through the rest of the crowd, to a table in the back that thankfully cleared when his body lurched towards it. Adam followed simply because Jamie didn’t expressly tell him not to. “You almost had him,” he lied, but there was a bit a joke to his tone. He wondered how far Jamie’s powers extended -- particularly if he should’ve known that hit was coming or not. “That wasn’t the point,” he said as he hauled himself onto a stool and pulled the tie out of his hair, his curls even more prominent now that he was drenched in sweat. “I went 2 rounds.” “Then what was?” “To do it,” he said casually. It was a mixture of reasons that brought him here, finally brought him onto the stage. He wanted to fight someone who wanted him hurt, wanted him down. He wanted to fight someone hard, someone whose physicality was enhanced. He wanted to see how much he could take, how far had Raf and Peter taken him. Because this was his life now. Fighting an enemy far stronger than him. While he’d always known that the Titans were stronger, seeing them up close in Kuala Lumpur, destroying his people, lights going out in his head, was almost a reawakening of those false memories. How did you make yourself unafraid? “What are you doing here?” Adam was not the mind reader between them, so he took Jamie’s answer at face value simply because he was a little too irritated with it to press further. If Jamie wanted to elaborate, he would. “Thought I’d have a few drinks and place a few bets,” Adam said, shrugging. It wasn’t a lie, but he was also looking to distract himself from the myriad of worries suddenly boxing him in and pressing down on him. Instead of dwelling on those thoughts, though, Adam just bluntly barreled into a different train of thought altogether. “Why’d you leave last time?” “Frank,” he said, as if it were the most stupidly obvious thing in the world. He changed position of the ice to a little further south, on his cheek. “You and him are no longer friends.” Adam, however, clearly wasn’t following Jamie’s thought process. He leaned back in his seat, a look of confusion on his face. “What does that have to do with you?” Jamie sighed. ‘Just tell him to go away, Jesus. You're going to be fucking miserable when the rest of this adrenaline wears off,’ Peter said, glaring sideways at Adam and setting a protective hands on his shoulder. ‘You know this isn't a bridge you want to burn,’ Kent pointed out, leaning his elbows in on an empty side of the table. ‘He burned it already. Well, him and Frank. Ha,’ Peter snickered. “I'm around Frank a lot. Unavoidable for you.” “That’s fine,” Adam said with a shrug. Being around Frank hardly meant engaging with him for prolonged periods of time, even if he wanted to. “Not for me.” Kent was right, this wasn’t a bridge he wanted to burn; he’d come to not only respect Adam for his power and his calmness, but he liked him. He liked their similarities and he liked that slow unwinding that had been happening where he felt like he could, for whatever definition he was at any given minutes, be himself around him. It had been so long since he’d felt friendship was a fucking reality. But Frank was Frank, his brother, his protector; even when it frustrated him, even when he knew Frank wanted to be anything but. He couldn’t give him much, or maybe anything, but he could choose him over everyone and everything. At least, he could try to in his more lucid, selfless moments. “You say it’s fine, but it won’t be. I won’t be able to talk about one to the other without feeling like I’m betraying someone. I’ll fuck up and Frank will come to you and you’ll both have to be around each other looking for me without showing the other more than a professional amount of compassion. I feel enough guilt as it is without….” Jamie trailed off and let his hand holding the ice drop back onto the table, looking at the melting crag of fused ice chips. “I like you, Adam,” he said quietly. “But I can’t make it any harder on Frank than I already make things. Not on purpose.” Adam was quiet for a long moment, weighing his words, determining his reaction. While he wanted to say he got it like he usually did to Jamie, he didn’t exactly want to this time. And that led to wondering if he was being irrational or just fighting for something he thought was worth it. And further wondering why he didn’t consider fighting for Frank. He figured space was in Frank’s best interest, so what was the difference when pondering Jamie’s? Frank would probably come to him either way if Jamie fucked up, but he felt that acknowledging the self-fulfilling prophecy Jamie was putting on himself was wrong too. Stoic resolve crumbled, and Adam’s square, tense shoulders gave out in defeat as he just slumped back in the chair. He looked remarkably tired and strained, suddenly. “He’s your brother,” he finally conceded, but it was all he gave verbally. Not quite his usual ‘I understand’, but until recently, he didn’t quite get a test of sibling loyalty. This understanding was too fresh, but who was he to tell Jamie what was best for him. “I’m not going to get in the way of that.” For a moment, Jamie felt the world around him devoid of gravity. No, not devoid of gravity, not in space - at terminal velocity. Freefall. ‘Jamie-’ Now Jasmine appeared, over Adam’s shoulder. Adam who she liked, Adam who she swayed with his voice - trust him, tell him. Large, worried eyes and soft, plaintive tone and he couldn’t hear her right now, couldn’t stay in this chair, couldn’t hear anything but the sound of his rejection turned back on him. The force of his motion up from the chair sent it crashing into the one occupied behind him as his legs carried him away from the table and away, surprisingly, from the bar to take the most direct line into the night air. The oppressive humidity and heat hadn’t changed all that much in the night and it was no sense of release to feel it crush his chest like an elephant and leave him gasping for breath. Tears stung at the corners of his eyes as he heard a figure crash through the back door. ‘Jamie - stop, please!’ came Jasmine’s voice, steps behind him as if that meant anything. He whirled around on her, angry and uncaring who was outside to hear him, prepared to yell, but it wasn’t Jasmine he saw when he made the 180. It was Peter, who balled his fist in Jamie’s loose-fitting tanktop and shoved him against the brick wall of La Cantina. ‘Make up your fucking mind!’ Peter yelled at him sharply, in his face as his hand still pressed (feeling so solid and so real) into his sternum. ‘He fucking agreed with you, you got what you want, he didn’t even make a fucking scene and you are still just agonizing like a fucking-’ Kent was suddenly behind Peter, his hand gripping his mouth as his thin frame dragged Peter off with a rather uncharacteristic burst of strength. ‘Shut your fucking mouth! I am so up to fucking here listening to you being so black and fucking white, like feelings are switches and you’re the only one who knows what is so fucking obvious -’ Kent shouted at Peter and was interrupted by Peter nailing his fist across his jaw. It devolved from there. Behind Jamie’s closed eyes, the heels of his hands dug into his eye sockets, he could nonetheless hear the cacophony of voices warring it out in his head: Kent and Peter screaming their positions between body blows that he could feel like phantom limbs and Jasmine, her higher voice shouting at both of them that they were arguing over nothing as she tried to pull them apart. Jamie slid down the wall until he was curled up at the base of it, needing more hands to cover his ears, shield him from the fight, as if this wasn’t all happening from the inside. Adam could’ve sat there, worn out and feeling like shit, but something about the look on Jamie’s face told him to follow and Adam barely wrestled with the instinct to do so. When he found Jamie just outside, curled against the wall, he felt frozen with hesitation he’d never had previously. He could leave and cement what they’d both just more or less agreed to… Or help him, like he wanted. “Jamie,” came Adam’s voice, flexing with that usual pull of his power when he wasn’t focusing on pushing it down. He kneeled down on one knee, putting a hand gently on his shoulder in an attempt to snap him out from whatever was visibly going on in his mind. Jamie knew what was coming before it happened; Adam was a beacon in his head, moving in his direction. There were would be words and, sure enough, there were and there was silence that followed as all of him was aware that he was being tuned to his broadcast. There wasn’t Peter yelling at him to pick a lane and stay in it. There wasn’t Kent justifying his living in the margins, his indecisiveness. There wasn’t even Jasmine, who Adam drew like a moth to the flame. He was getting used to this. That was bad. This was all bad and he felt so embarrassed in the undercurrent of all this. Like picking up sand with your fingers, all he could do was keep making more mess in his attempt to clean up. Pity was a strong draw, he knew, and he’d caught Adam again with it despite his intentions. Well. He hoped they weren’t his intentions. Adam didn’t know what to say or do now, so he only called for Jamie again, hoping to pull him out of his thoughts. This time, he spoke a little more firmly. “Jamie.” Jamie was quiet, but he was also still. ”I’m trying to do the right thing,” he said in Adam’s head, his hands flattening out against his face and wiping away the tears of stress that had squeezed their way out. Adam cracked. Everything poured out in unison, thoughts finishing sentences punctuated by feelings. “So am I,” he said, frowning. “I -- I don’t know what your brother wants, so I’m trying to give him what he needs…” Space, his mind clarified without really asking his permission. But I’m losing either way now. We all are. “I wanted to try and keep our friendship, Jamie. Maybe selfishly. You’re the only one who gets it,” Adam admitted in what appeared on the surface to be a rare turn of their interaction. Jamie was usually drawn to Adam because Adam got things, but even if the reverse was also true, Adam hardly ever voiced it. “We’re all afraid a Titan is going find us out one day. But us -- What we can do to them?” Read their minds. Shut them down… Adam trailed off and his hand left Jamie’s shoulder to run through his hair. He shook his head, taking time before he spoke again. His words lingered on the tail end of a heavy sigh. “...I’m sorry I put you in this position.” Jamie was looking through the thick, ropey strands of his wavy brown hair up at Adam, blue eyes penetrating as he listened and felt and understood. It wasn’t so straightforward with people who weren’t Frank; this was all impulse and intuition crafted by those neurons in his head, the synchronicity he fell into. “Then fix it,” he said. “Fix things with Frank.” For a moment, Adam was quiet. Agreeing felt a little like going against the word he gave Frank, but he did miss his friend. “I’ll try,” he finally said. That was all he could do anyway. |