Jonas Dufaux (bronas) wrote in invol_rpg, @ 2013-04-20 15:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | ! log, jonas dufaux, laurel lancaster |
WHO: Jonas Dufaux & Laurel Lancaster
WHAT: Reunited after Laurel gets out of solitary.
WHEN: Saturday afternoon.
WHERE: Laurel's room.
WARNINGS: Language, but surprisingly, that's about it.
STATUS: Complete.
Jonas stepped into the room, happy to see that Laurel's roommate was nowhere to be found. Lottie Pewter was certainly attractive enough, but he was not in the mood to listen to her mindless pratter. He was, in fact, in a terrible mood, anger coursing through every part of his body. It was similar to the sensation he'd felt at the protest on Wednesday -- pure, unprocessed rage. Jonas did not stop to fully consider the emotion. It had taken over in a flood as he'd made his way to her room, anger taking over from the troublesome worry he'd felt before. All morning Jonas had sat in front of his computer, agitatedly drumming his fingers on the hard surface of his desk. Where was she? And then her texts had come, finally, and here she was -- alive and whole before his eyes. They did not embrace when she opened the door. Such a greeting was not their style. Jonas's eyes were dark as he surveyed her, arms crossed. He didn't seem to know what to do with himself in the tiny room. "What were you thinking?" He asked, by way of greeting, "Do you remember what I said to you, about Anika?" Of all the things she had expected from Jonas, this scolding was not one of them. The two of them argued, fought, spat insults when they were frustrated, but this was different. There was an accusatory look in Jonas's expression, as if her extra day in solitary had somehow wronged him more than it had her. Folding her arms across her chest defensively, Laurel frowned. "I was pissed. It was a reflex." It was true, to a degree. Laurel had been angry beyond belief when the guards had finally arrived, too angry to really consider what the consequences of using her powers might be. She hated feeling as helpless as she had in that tiny cell -- had wanted the guards to realize how helpless she could make them feel, too. "They weren't going to throw me in permanent confinement for one little faux pas," she added, but her tone was unsure. "They might!" He nearly yelled the words back at her. Jonas crossed the room and then turned, pacing back toward Laurel. "And if they had, what then? Who knows where Anika is now, if she is even alive? Perhaps they keep her in a tiny room with no human contact, or maybe they have made her into some kind of vegetable. Merde, Laurel." Jonas ran an agitated hand through his hair, needing some kind of physical outlet for his irritation. On top of the frustration and anger he felt toward Laurel (and at the IVF, although he had no outlet to express that particular vein of rage) Jonas also felt a strange kind of irritation at himself. Why was he getting so worked up over this? He didn't have an answer and that made him mad, too. As if she could read his mind, Laurel shot back, "Why the fuck do you care so damn much?" She'd expected amusement at best, mild annoyance at worst -- this level of agitation, Laurel had expected only from her sister, who cared for her in a way unlike anyone else at IVI (or, indeed, anywhere else). "It doesn't matter anyway," she continued, more softly. "I'm fine. Just fucking fine." Jonas glared in response. He had no answer to her question, of course, and so it was good that she didn't seem to really want a response. He still wanted to yell -- or maybe to hit something -- but the desire was beginning to subside. I thought you might not come back. It was on the tip of his tongue. But instead of saying those words, Jonas sighed, bringing a hand to his forehead and rubbing it across. "Fuck." Jonas muttered the word softly and looked up at Laurel again. "The tasers, did they use them on you?" Laurel shrugged nonchalantly, but her hand reached almost unconsciously for the arm the guards had tased in order to subdue her. "It's nothing," she said, turning away to sit on the bed. She hated showing weakness -- to the world, but even more so to her friends. Opening yourself up only lead to hurt and pain, the sort that didn't leave physical marks, but certainly did leave mental ones. Tucking a loose strand of hair, limp and oily from days without a shower, behind her ear, she glanced over at Jonas. "You get out yesterday?" "Yes." Jonas was calming down some, although his eyes narrowed at Laurel's arm. He moved to sit next to her on the bed, another sign that he was slowly curbing his irritation. Jonas didn't bother to put any room between them. The physical contact after so many days of isolation was a relief, although he made no move to put his arm around her shoulders or stroke her hair. "I would kill them, if I thought I could get away with it," he said. "But we are not going back there again." "So would I," she muttered. And she almost had, hadn't she? It would have been so easy -- so painfully simple. There were a million and one ways a person could die, even here at IVI, with its forcefield and protection. 'Jump off a roof,' she could have said. 'Go for a swim in the lake, and don't ever leave.' 'Stick a knife in that outlet.' But she hadn't, because despite her apparent nonchalance, Laurel did not want to be the next Anika Morgenstern. Three days in solitary had been more than enough to convince her of that. The warmth of Jonas' body beside hers felt foreign after those 72 hours of no contact at all, but it felt comfortable, too. Safe, even, if that was a word that could ever be used to describe Jonas Dufaux, who most people would have described as quite the opposite. But Laurel Lancaster was not most people. And so, she hesitated only briefly before letting her head fall onto his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut in what could only be exhaustion, as inexplicable as it seemed after three straight days of no activity at all. "Aren't we, though?" she whispered, her fingers curling into her palms. "In the end, we're all going to go back, Jo. If we don't get out, we're all going to end up in that building." Jonas scowled. It was a problem that seemed to have no solution. He knew what Devon thought, that they should all rise up and fight their way out of the institution, but Jonas had his doubts. That they could even manage to get past the massive IVF military, even with their powers. And then, almost more importantly, what would they do on the outside? Jonas Dufaux was hardly prepared to live his life as a fugitive. But Laurel was right -- the situation was dire for everyone at IVI, but especially for the two of them. What would it take to provoke the school into locking them up for good, and when would it happen? "We will get out, then." And because it seemed like the most natural thing to do, Jonas snaked his arm around her back, gripping her tightly toward him. There was a comfort in his own words, even if he did not know how they could be portrayed into a reality. "And no one will ever lock us up again." |