Jacques Charbonneau (hespeakstome) wrote in thegrand_ic, @ 2012-06-18 02:35:00 |
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Entry tags: | atlas acron, jacques charbonneau |
Who: Jacques Charbonneau and Atlas Acron
What: A chance meeting while on an adventure.
When: After Father's Day
Where: An empty spot on the coast near Boston.
Warnings: PG, mild language.
Summary: Jacques goes out on his own in an attempt to learn "independence" and starts a bonfire on the beach that leads to a stray moth nearly flying face-first into it. They share their stories about their pasts and how demons have affected their lives.
(6:09:08 PM) Jacques Charbonneau: Independence. It wasn't something that Jacques had put a lot of thought into before. It had been a unique situation, growing up as a triplet and with very few other people around but their own family. Since they were little, it had always felt natural to look to his siblings to define his life. But now that things were different, as his dad had said... what should he do? He wasn't helpless, that was for sure. He was very aware of how his siblings managed to make trouble, and so he had something of an idea of how he wanted to entertain himself on such a night.
He wanted to go on an adventure. The youngest Charbonneau slipped through the glass portal when he didn't think Daddy or Papa would notice, carrying in tow a small backpack. It was later in the evening in the states when he emerged on the other side. The Jubilee was already closed for the night. Jacques went out the back and locked the door behind himself, knowing that meant he couldn't come back until morning when the new manager opened the place up again. In short, he was fully sneaking out for the entire night.
Another first came in that Jacques tried his hand at hitchhiking. He put on his sweetest smile, just like Jean had said, and stuck out his thumb by the side of the road. It took a little while, but eventually some college guy gave him a ride down to the coast. The beach was dark and rocky and looked a little treacherous in the dark, but Jacques had no plans to go for a swim. Instead, he chose a place just out of sight of the docks where he might be found out by a police officer or a warehouse worker, and began to arrange stones in a circle. Inside of the stones he put down a bundle of sticks from his backpack – he'd brought them along in case none were to be found there – and lit them with a match. A bonfire kindled there, and then Jacques snuggled down into his jacket to watch it rise into the sky.
(6:36:56 PM) Atlas Acron: Atlas rarely slept at night. He was nocturnal by his very nature and had a hard time doing things in the day even when required but he managed to trudge through when necessary. But, as it were he was at the start of the evening and his most active and alive. He’d come to a point of living at rave parties and the Hidden Agenda because it was these kinds of places he could actually blend in at night and people just thought the bioluminescent pattern all over his skin, face included was just part of the club scene. Sometimes he could get away with telling people it was those new controversial for safety glow-in-the-dark tattoos. But, those took black lights to glow, and he was shining bright with or without once darkness fell. He’d had a little drink this night, but nothing major, just one Long Island, when he had gotten into a conversation about the line between manslaughter and murder and Atlas couldn’t take it anymore, those stupid gothic emos always trying to ruin his evenings with weird talk like that. He just wanted to have fun and that quite simply wasn’t happening there anymore. Some subjects were even too much for this shock-finder. So, he left.
He ended up on the beach. It wasn’t usually so crowded there at night, sometimes a few stray couples would be walking the coast. Atlas was bold anyway. Sometimes he just didn’t care who saw him. He certainly made no attempts in trying to blend in by being bland. His entire style screamed stare at me with his tattoos and Hot Topic’s fashion closet barely covering his body with ripped up jeans and too-small tee that didn’t reach the hem of his jeans, much less the sound of the many chains attached to the vest and pants, complete with dog collar, and turquoise contacts to cover up the red reflectors he had for eyes. But, something happened on this walk. His insect ways became far more apparent than anything he tried to cover up on his skin. His eyes locked on that bonfire Jacques was making and instinct took him over. The whole world could have been calling him by a mega-phone over loud speakers and this trance couldn’t have been broken. The mothman’s phototaxis instinct threw his inner coil forward and he was after it. It started out as a jog, then a run, bee-lining his target like a moth to a porch light. But, it got worse. He was never in control of himself when this took over. He didn’t shift completely, but he did flutter his giant moth wings out and flew line direct at the fire coming from high above. Then it really happened, the corkscrew spiral of death. Right above Jacques’ head was a full sized human body with wings in a death spiral headed right for his flames.
(6:44:38 PM) Jacques Charbonneau: Jacques was resting peacefully, but also fully awake as he listened to the soft crackle of his fire. It felt nice, actually, and quite warm against the frigid wet breezes that slapped up off the water, but it was plain day back in France and Jacques was only beginning to feel the slightest nipping of a nap on his toes.
That idea went out the window when a large shadow, broken by glittering light, swept over his view. Something was heading straight for his fire! It was person-shaped, too! Jacques leapt to his feet in an instant, sucking in a big breath and balling his fists.
"No, wait!" he yelled, but it was too late. He saw the figure take another loop and head straight for the fire! No time to think or pray. Jacques took a wild leap and grappled with the strange figure, bent on not letting it hurt itself in the flames. He managed to get hold of what sort of felt like hips, probably, and pokey belt loops here, and just held on like crazy. What he hoped was that his weight would throw off the trajectory of the creature and land them both skidding into the sand.
(6:51:02 PM) Atlas Acron: Atlas didn't know anything, was aware of absolutely nothing until the moment they skidded like 100 pound frisbees across the sand. The crashing last thud and whoosh of loose sand being thrown in his face was only cause for instinctual moves. Both hands shot to his eyes and held his heels against them, rolling flat on his back in the sand. A slew of curses started to spit from his mouth from the pain, but he didn't open those eyes. He really didn't want to lose those contacts.
(6:57:32 PM) Jacques Charbonneau: As the sand settled around them, Jacques too shook sand out of his hair and "bleh"ed it out of his mouth. He had the distinct fortune (or misfortune) of having his fall broken almost totally by the creature's body. It felt soft, and decidedly human-like so far, so Jacques didn't make any move to run away even when he heard curse-words. Actually, he even giggled under his breath – he knew at least half of those from Jean.
"Sorry," he said over the cursing. His curiosity got the better of him, and while he didn't really want to get all the way up yet in case the creature took another dive for the fire, he did lean up on the creature's chest in an effort to have a look at his face. In the orange light thrown off by the fire, it appeared to be a young man much like himself. But those wings! By God, they were so beautiful. A little strange, but his raising had him quite unafraid of strange. This made Jacques smile lightly. "Are you hurt? Let me see your face. I can help you. Why were you trying to headbutt my bonfire?"
Gently, Jacques reached down and tried to help the man clear his face and see if he was burned.
(7:11:38 PM) Atlas Acron: It took up until this point for Atlas's breathing to slow down enough to even realize someone was on top of him at all. It was just all pain everywhere at first. He thought the weight was just a part of it. He was trying to rub his eyes just right to keep them watering (which wasn't doing his eyeliner justice) but he needed to save those contacts. Or at least he thought he did. As the moment ticked on and he became more self aware he realized his wings were out. He knew exactly what had happened to him then. He really hated it. Atlas was made of little bits of different moths, but his name bore the beauty of his wings. They were that of an Atlas Moth. The fire's glow might have taken away some of what could have been glowing on his skin like little owlet moths or fireflies glowing in the dark. It was hardly visible in the day or light and he did a decent job of covering that with tattoos. He finally lowered his hands and tried to open his eyes. Luckily, his contacts managed to stay in place, but his eyes were pretty pink. "Um hello." He said with a pierced lip. He looked to the side and saw the fire and rolled those glossy eyes. "I couldn't help it." He tried to explain figuring the jig was pretty up with his wings out like that. "Know anything about phototaxis dead-weight boy?" He was making a point that he was being laid on top of, but made not motion to move him. "Did you just stop me from being a mothman barbeque?"
(7:27:12 PM) Jacques Charbonneau: Well... Jacques came out with some eyeliner or something on his fingertips too, but when he took his hands away he just brushed them off on the knees of his jeans and was done with it. When Atlas finally started talking, he was satisfied that he wasn't about to charge back into the fire and felt like he could let him up. Jacques lifted his leg and slid back down into the sand, his wide eyes still staring unabashedly at the thing he had snagged out of the air. He was fascinated the most by the color – so many, swirling and combining and making beautiful patterns over his wings, with the tattoos adding to it. It was as if the man was a living lava lamp.
"Hi!" Jacques said back at the greeting, lifting one hand and waving a bit shyly. It seemed a bit silly to do that, but oh well. Nobody was burned, so the night could still end well. "I know what that is, sure. It's when insects, plants, and some prokaryotes are attracted to light as a means of navigation." He laughed again, childish and unassuming for what he had just said. Since some of his closest relationships throughout his life had been with animals, he'd taken it upon himself to learn as much about them as he could. To him, it was no different from human diplomacy – learn the language and culture, then make friends.
As for the rest, Jacques just quirked his head to the side. "I think your navigation is broken. Or else you meant to fly directly into the fire. If so, I hope you change your mind. There's a lot to live for. At least for now. I have marshmallows."
(7:40:02 PM) Atlas Acron: "It's not just navigation smarty pants." He said with no malice behind his voice. Atlas just had a way about him. "Moths have another problem with that. Google it." He was starting to sit up himself, bringing one knee up and the other leg sprawled out to the side, wide. He took a deep breath. "The death spiral, it's not ... it's not controllable." He explained a little more. "I've read up on it because of a few past oopsies. Humans think we're screwing up and mistaking the light for the moon." He shook his head, "But, anyway... if it were as simple as just a lighthouse on the sea to follow I wouldn't have this issue. Moths kamakaze plunge into fires all the time." Then in some weird whatever gesture after his biology lesson, he pulled both hands down into a hang loose sign and shook them while sticking his tongue out. "I live dangerously. Ahhh." He was laughing about it. As much as he hated it, he was used to it. But, he heard the word marshamallows and sprang up outta nowhere and was crawling on all fours to get to them. "Dude. We're roasting. You got coat hangers. I need a stick." Atlas was ready to camp out and take over.
(7:49:35 PM) Jacques Charbonneau: Jacques as well didn't seem to react negatively to being corrected. He just posed his hands on his knees and nodded several times, considering the words that were given to him. They sounded casual, and even maybe a bit practiced, or else maybe Atlas was playing off his adrenaline at having dodged a serious bullet? Either was, Jacques mulled it over in his mind a moment. He especially imagined that maybe right now, other tiny moths were contemplating the same dive. Seeing this one, it suddenly made his heart sink a little, so that he needed to look over at the fire as it was. No, it seemed alright for the moment... they were somewhat far away from any grass cover, so maybe no more moths would come over.
As Atlas stood up, so did he, and he offered his arm to help him. "It's okay. I understand. I'm just glad you're not hurt. Here, I'll--"
Jacques cut off when Atlas started to scramble on all fours towards the fire again, but this time with less death and more sugar on his mind. He fully put his arms around his stomach and belly-laughed, shaking his head loosely before rushing over to meet him there. "Hold on! I have one better," he said, and picked up his backpack. Inside, as promised, there was a bag of marshmallows from the kitchen. It appeared that Daddy had already opened them, but there were still plenty. There was also one chocolate bar, a few graham crackers, and a pair of skewers. These he took out and offered one down to Atlas. "Here you go. My name is Jacques. My brother calls me Jackie. You can call me that if you want. What's your name?" Again he fell a bit quieter and looked over Atlas again. "Are you a shifter, exactly...? I know a lot of those."
(8:05:39 PM) Atlas Acron: Atlas turned when everything was offered and laid out and ended up sitting indian style in front of the fire as he went splicing his skewer through a jumbo mallow, "Oh uh, Hey. I'd totally spell that with an X. JAX. I suddenly want to play Jax too. I have some at home. I'm Atlas Acron. And no no. I'm not a shifter really. Those people have the advantage of actually being able to blend in like nothing with everyone else. I got the screwed up end of stand out. But, it's all good. I don't like blending in anyway" says the boy who lived in Raves and Clubs to attempt to blend for survival and not get called out and end up a science experiment on some doctor's slab. "Here. Let me show you." His wings were folded back and they disappeared behind him as he stood up next to the fire. His vest falling back to normal where it had gotten all ripped up from the sudden sprout of wings. He really just looked like a normal tattooed punk or scene kid then. But, he walked further and further away from the light and out into the shadows. Once there, Jacques would see his the strange pattern on his face begin to glow. Atlas looked around before stripping his shirt off too. The pattern extended everywhere. By the looks of how it went to his hips it would be clear this really covered every part of him. "Ta da." His eyes kept glancing back at the flames though once he was that far out. But, he managed to keep control. "I'm the mothman." He said back as if he was famous.
(8:26:27 PM) Jacques Charbonneau: Satisfied that Atlas approved of the layout, Jacques folded himself back where he had originally started on the sand, grabbing himself a marshmallow to skewer. He twirled it idly between his hands when he heard what Atlas called him, and it made him grin. "Jax? Thats funny," he answered. But really it was kind of exciting. Someone had just given him a nickname! His voice went a little coy when he spoke again, slowly dipping his marshmallow towards the fire. "Maybe I'll think about that. Jax with an X. I like your name, though. Atlas is a mythology thing, isn't it? It reminds me of something my parents would tell me about as a bedtime story."
The rest of Atlas's situation made him think again, back on the shifters he knew and how they always seemed to bridge elegantly the gap between humanity and beasthood. "Hm. The shifters I know... they go between both worlds easily. But I guess that's not possible for you, is it? If you can't shift like they do." He was still thoughtful as he watched Atlas leave the fire and go into the dark, and then burst into threads of color all over his skin. It was even more impressive than the tattoos... distractingly so. Jacques was watching with his lips slightly parted, not so much embarrassed yet that he was staring at a shirtless guy – at least until he realized at length that his marshmallow had completely caught on fire and was a molten ball of brown mush.
"Oh!" he gasped, and then finally blushed. He yanked the fireball out and blew on it hard – foo! Foo! Foo! He wanted to bluster out some shy mess of syllables, eyes darting between the mess on the end of his skewer and Atlas. "I didn't mean to do that. Sorry, sorry. It's not... it's not a bad thing. It's really cool. You look really cool. What else can you do?"
(8:46:13 PM) Atlas Acron: "Think about it all you want. That's how I'm saying it." He grinned rubbing under his eyes to smear the last of the liner off (at least that's what he hoped) not like he was holding a mirror. "I don't know why my parents named me that." He admitted. "I never met them. That's not really how it works for my kind. I think I was lucky enough to have my sister around for awhile. I mean, ya know. Cocoons. Metamorphosis. Stuff like that. Moths don't really go around raising their young. I guess moth-people don't either. I don't know." This was a part of Atlas that made him wild and very self taught. Anything he had, he'd done for himself. And he really didn't know either. He'd never met another like him except for his sister. Their kind was extremely rare. when he saw the flaming mallow at the end of Jax' stick he laughed at first then "DUDE! That was cool. Let's do it again. Only this time lets stack the skewer. We need mallow torches!" He came running back to where Jax was and started to stack one mallow at time on his own dying to completely light them on fire. But, he did continue to talk as he did it. "Oh I mean, my shape isn't exactly a tiny pretty moth. It's humanoid in nature I guess. So even my shape people think is just some monster running around, I'm not pretty little butterfly." He shirked kneeling on the sand and smiled back at Jax. "The legends are true enough if you know any of them." And he sat stick down for a moment and put two fingers up to his eye and pulled a contact and looked at him. His iris was pure red and glowed as much as his skin. He did tilt his head down rather quickly with that one to try and put the contact back in. The stance of his body even more timid as he attempted it. That was one of the things he felt more self-conscious about and the manner of his movements, whether boldly showing it or not was apparent.
(9:03:58 PM) Jacques Charbonneau: Now christened "Jax", the boy held his skewer between his knees and plucked at the bubbling black skin of the marshmallow. After a couple of "ouch!" moments he peeled it back far enough to where there was a sweet, gooey, white core still inside. He got a lump of it on his finger and stuck it in his mouth, and decided that it did taste almost even better than if he'd slowly browned it. Something about the shock of the fire had done something he liked to the sugar.
Something occurred to him as he ate, and he popped his thumb out of his mouth long enough to ask, "So... if you never met your parents, how do you know your name? Do all moth-people live alone? Is it lonely?" Only after he said it did Jax realize that was something of a serious question, and he bit his lip lightly, making his tiny studded piercings (just like his brother's) stand out against them. As if to smooth over his faux pas, he pushed the marshmallow bag over and let Atlas make as big a stack as he liked with them. "Don't forget there's chocolate and crackers too when you're done," he added in a softer voice.
Jax was quiet for a moment as he was shown the eye, but his youthful face never turned into one of disgust or surprise. His own mannerisms were never aggressive; if he had inherited anything from his dad, it was a sense of acceptance and appreciation. He could tell that something about Atlas had gone a little nervous, so he stopped fiddling with his skewer and turned down his chin to speak as if he meant to say something private, even though no one else was around.
"I think you're pretty," he said earnestly. "Your eyes are pretty too. I like the way they glow, and you have a nice face." That said, not to press the issue too much and end up with the opposite reaction, Jax went on scraping his marshmallow goo onto a cracker, turning his eyes back to his own business. "Will you tell me about the legend? If you want to." He hesitated only momentarily before making one last addition. He wondered if his parents would be angry if he told the man things about himself, but he was supposed to be making his own decision about this now, right? And, he had already learned quite a bit about Atlas, who was probably wondering why he wasn't upset or how he knew shifters. "Or I can tell you stories. I'm not just a human either. I'm a saint. I take care of people and animals."
(9:30:05 PM) Atlas Acron: Atlas looked over with his eyes but didn't actually move his head from the hanging position when he was complimented. "Thanks I guess." It was whispered though not wanting to bring attention to it either. It was a sensitive subject for him. "Actually" Atlas answered honestly about the name. "It was in the crystal sack. Spun within the weaves. I still have it. I have them all. From every single one. My crysallises I mean. But, the first where the eggs were must have been made by my parents I'm guessing." He spoke of each time he morphed. "I didn't know my own name or even if it was my name or how to read it. It was only after my first crysallis and getting a slightly human body and learning that I saw it. I was just a caterpillar. I just didn't have name before that. And I made Acron up so I could be like people. My sister's was the same. Being like that, I don't know. I just didn't have a name. I couldn't talk anyway. Hell for all I all know some lumber jack came and carved it in and I'm going around sporting the some tree killer's name. I don't really know." He shirked. "That's just how it was. But, at least it is a cool titan's name. A kick ass one too." He said. And truth was Atlas became pretty well read because he was unable to watch the tv for too long at once and even being online was touch and go as his laptop kept rebooting when he tried. It was hard because he wasn't that educated but he had nothing better to do all alone sometimes and so he waged through book after the book the best he could. But, Atlas had a lot of anger built up about his past because the treatment he got in West Virginia and asking him to tell the legend was a little hard. But, Jax' admittance made it a little more possible. "Does that mean you won't judge me if I tell you?" It wasn't exactly a beautiful a legend.
(9:45:36 PM) Jacques Charbonneau: A pang of sadness hit Jax in the chest at the sorrowful way Atlas seemed to accept his compliment. It seemed a little strange, even, that one who took such care to adorn himself that way didn't care to have his looks brought up. Then again, if the dress was less of a choice and more a matter of blending, that made sense. Jax drummed his fingers over his lips softly, watching Atlas for a moment. He'd meant what he said, and he was really fascinating.
But Jax followed along for Atlas's comfort, nodding along to his story about his parents. "I don't think a lumberjack did it," he agreed, even though he had no authority. That just didn't make as lovely a story. "I'm sure it was your parents. I'm sure they thought about you while you were hatching. Maybe you can meet them someday, anyway." He offered up a hopeful smile and a reached over to pat him on the knee. "It is way too cool of a name. I bet they wanted you to be like that, with wings that can hold up the sky."
To Atlas's question, Jax nodded again, more slowly, more solemn. "I promise. It's not for me to judge. Just to listen." As if to prove what he was saying, he overturned his arm and revealed a small cross tattoo twirling with vines. His father had similar tattoos, as did probably his brother and his sister. Even though it wouldn't have the same effect on him as it did their divine bodies, it was still a reminder of who he came so far to be.
(10:27:13 PM) Atlas Acron: It wasn't really so much that Atlas was ashamed of the way he looked. He sported that shit off. But, his eyes were spoken of and this was a big part of what made people scared of him. But, it was true that he began all the peacocking as different ways to hide who he was. He got the contact back in and looked back at Jax with a much brighter face when he seemed to suggest it was probably his parents after all. He liked that idea. "You know that titan?" He said with an even brighter face of approval because the degenerates Atlas hung around weren't usually the type to be that versed. It must have been a rhetorical question though because next he said, "Very cool of you" nodding his head. Atlas really didn't have much faith in God and honestly wasn't sure God gave a rat's ass about him. But, he did understand the what the black haired boy across from him was trying to convey by showing him the cross tattoo. It was enough to show Jax decent intention and so Atlas started to tell his tale. "Well it's not like in the movie. If you've seen it. I keep trying to make it through it and just get so angry the TV usually blows up." That was his clue about his electronic disruptions too. "But, I read the damn book and all these humans seem to have their little fucking theories but none of them are fucking right." I was obvious not only by words but tone he was bitter. "You saw me. I can't help it." He pointed at the fire. "I'd go chasing after tail lights back in West Virgina before I had a full human form. And it scared people, made them crash and stuff. But, that's all. I never hurt any of those kids." He said it as if Jax already knew the movie or story even if he didn't. "I only wanted to play. And they liked playing with me too." He looked hurt as any scarred person could be. "The rest hated me. Blamed everything on me. The dead dogs, the suicides, it wasn't because of me I swear. Or my sister even. It was Ingrid. That damn demon took over the town and blamed it all on me cause he knew I'd been seen as a monster and people were scared." He took a deep breath there and stuck his skewer stacked with about five marshmallows into the fire then stared into the fire. He knew the story only got worse from there. He rarely admitted this next part to anyone.
(10:47:17 PM) Jacques Charbonneau: In case Atlas hadn't noticed, Jax wasn't exactly afraid of him. If anything, he had a well of surprising composure, something surely learned from his papa. He was attentive to Atlas's story, though he had never seen such a movie or read a book like that. The element of the TV was a little odd, but he didn't say anything just yet. There were more important details to comment to.
"I'm sorry," he said during the pause, figuring that Atlas was finished. His liquid blue eyes, just like his daddy's, were round and sympathetic. "They're wrong, though. There's a bigger, much better theory, and it's that God made all kinds of things, including moth-people, to make the earth more joyful and colorful. How could anyone be afraid of that? They just don't understand. Maybe if they knew about that, they wouldn't be so afraid. God doesn't make monsters. He only makes souls in different shapes and sizes."
The rest made him furrow his brow deeply. His fingers even clenched together a little. "There was a demon?"
(11:07:13 PM) Atlas Acron: Atlas definitely had nothing to say to Jax's comments on God or what he was. To the world he was a urban legend that hit hollywood for crimes he hadn't committed and would have been better off he'd have stayed in the forest where he belonged. "Yeah, there was." He said about the demon, his voice growing a crispness to it that sounded like it could shatter it touched. "He said his name was Indrid Cold. Hollywood has lots of theories on him too." Oh the bitterness was laced and apparent again. "Most the conspiracy theorists seem to think he's some kind of men in black dude like Will Smith who was there to help with UFO phenoms. Heh." He shirked then too. His mallows were really starting to bubble up, but he didn't remove them from the flame. His voice got so monotone and practically void of life altogether as he spoke. "The legends are right about one thing. The Silver Bridge Disaster out there on the Ohio River. Hollywood might not have made the legend known enough to you, but around that area, no one will ever forget. It was my fault. I was all my fault. I confronted him, tried to drive him out of town. He said he'd leave. I thought he'd leave us all alone. I thought one sacrifice would be better for all." Atlas had a made a huge decision. "Just destroy the bridge he said and he'd leave forever. He had my sister. Said he would kill her if I didn't." He was also being blackmailed. "I did it. I mother fucking did it." His voice was still stale and eerie. "B..but. But he didn't let her go. He shoved her under as the Silver Bridge fell. She died. She died along with those 46 people. She didn't deserve that. He left though. He left that town and from what I know he never went back." His voice paused there. "Neither did I." The fact Atlas left shortly after the demon did only convinced the town it was the Mothman the whole time. His disappearence along with all abnormal suicides and hauntings were put hand in hand. Many even believed it was the result of an old Indian curse fullfilled. He threw the whole stick in the fire, wasting his skewer of mallows but that really wasn't his biggest concern right then. He was getting upset reliving this. He turned his head "You're wrong. I am a monster." It was so very possible that all Atlas's antics and adrenaline junkie ways were really a guy with a death wish hoping one day his bungee chords would snap.
(11:24:20 PM) Jacques Charbonneau: Jacques was very still as he listened to the rest of the story, hands locked on his knees, eyes on the fire. His breath came evenly, a steady rise and fall of his chest, but it was deeper than normal. It wasn't the breath of calm. It was one of fending away that feeling of disintegration, sadness that sinks like lead, and finding so many common threads between himself and his new friend's story. His gaze was like foggy glass, but he didn't dare brush his sleeve over his face.
Instead, at length, he looked up at Atlas and let him see that there were traces of tears in the corners of his eyes. The story had really hit him, his lip wavering. "Oh... I'm sorry..." he whispered, though in his mind he berated himself for not having anything more helpful to say. "I'm sorry" was such a helpless phrase, and yet what more could he do? He could not imagine a worse fate, a worse loss, than to have one's own sister – or brother – taken away by demons, and yet he knew just the feeling. He knew just how many nights he too had sat in utter despair because Jean was gone and all the light in the world was puffed out like one breath on a candle.
He knew what he would have wanted someone else to do for him if he had ever felt this way again, and so he did the best he knew. Suddenly and without asking he leaned over and wrapped his arms around his new friend, giving him a warm hug. "I'm so very, very sorry. I believe you, about everything. It's okay, and I know that your sister must be so proud that you tried to save her. I really mean it. It's not your fault."
After another breath or two he lifted his head up a bit. "Atlas, one time a demon took my brother away too. I was human then, and I tried to save him. I never gave up on him, so I tried to help rescue him and I died. Some other things happened too, but that's how eventually I became a saint. So I know what it's like... It's like you would chase that demon to the very end of the world if you could find your sibling again. I know."
(11:38:13 PM) Atlas Acron: Atlas had this overwhelming urge to just push the sentiment away but he didn't. He just sat there. He didn't hug back or even move at all, but just sat still, like stone. He wasn't really sure what he was hearing. He never had anyone believe him before except for Adam. But, Adam had been screwed over by a demon too. Of course Adam never told Atlas he was still living with demons and even called one father. Adam did a lot of lying to Atlas. But, even when he'd told the story in the past, he had skeptics mostly who had let Hollywood fill their ideals and the bandwagon had already hit the trails. He listened to what the boy said about his own brother. He even listened about how he became a saint and he had no reason to believe otherwise. He decided to take it all as fact. Finally, Atlas turned his head enough so that he was looking Jax right in the eyes, practically nose to nose the way he was being held onto and said, "But, you didn't kill anybody." Jax had left out the part of his story where he spent a stint as a vampire and Atlas only thought that there was no way Jax could fully grasp this even if he had a brother screwed by demons. "She's dead because of me. I pulled the eyebar. You rescued someone." He wasn't trying to belittle Jax' story, he just saw some major differences when Jax seemed to be trying to relate.
(6/18/2012 12:03:15 AM) Jacques Charbonneau: At least if Atlas wasn't pushing away, he wasn't totally rejecting Jax's efforts. Jax was truly only doing it out of compassion, of empathy, such a clear picture painted in his mind. But he also had to balance how much he said with outing his family, since certain details would become quite specific very quickly. Then again... if more details would help him to do his duty, then surely God and his family would have to approve. This was, after all, quickly growing to be something perfectly in his pervue as granted to him by the man upstairs. He was, after all, not just any old saint, but the brand new St. Jacques, patron of brothers and sisters.
But Atlas was wrong. It hadn't come without a cost. Here, even with Atlas speaking to him directly, Jax slowly lowered his eyes from such a surprisingly powerful gaze. His embrace loosened a bit, but not enough to give the impression that he was withdrawing his support. Instead of hugging him so directly, he started to place his hands over Atlas's in a more confessional way.
"That's... that's not totally true..." he said softly. "I... did things... to find my brother. It..."
He was having trouble forming the exact right words. His hands squeezed, as if to silently plead. "I understand if you don't like this, but I did have to do... horrible things. Because... see... it was because when I died, my Papa... he didn't want me to go, so he made me into a vampire, like him. A real vampire." His eyes lifted again, though a little afraid, and he nodded slowly. "And I made a choice. I could have walked out into the sun so I wouldn't have to eat any people, but I couldn't. I never wanted to be a little mortal thing so that my family would have to watch me get old and die, and then I wouldn't see them again until time itself ended. My Papa had to teach me how to eat people."
Jacques withdrew his touch from the coldness of his own memories, his eyes squinted in pain. "I can't even say I wish I didn't do it, because then I don't know if my brother would have ever been saved. I didn't do it because I wanted to hurt anyone, like I know you must have felt. And it wasn't until I released everything and gave my whole heart and soul to the fight, until I trusted God's hand to guide me, that my papa and I were released from the curse. He died, too. Only then did we get my brother back, and God made us whole again. So..."
Jacques's eyes were a little clearer now. He wiped them once on his sleeve, and then he was calm again. He felt a stirring, a seed in his heart that told him that maybe this conversation was more important than it had seemed at first. "Whatever you do, my job as a servant of God and the patron of siblings is to tell you not to do it out of revenge. Don't give up your life for hatred, or fight for anger. Everything you do, only do it for love. Okay?"
(12:29:49 AM) Atlas Acron: Atlas really didn't know how to react at this point. Never had someone's story seemed so similar, so close to match by intentions. Jax even said he wasn't sure he regretted it. Atlas had turned so bitter there were days he one hundred percent was glad he killed all those grown up humans on that bridge and sometimes even thought they deserved it for putting him through everything in the first place always believing that damn demon over him. He felt betrayed by the whole human race. The only time a human would occupy his heart was when they were a child, just like the ones that were kind to him and tried to play, until the adults came swooping in to stop them. "You're just like me." He said very simple words, but they felt pretty damn huge to Atlas. He knew vampires. He'd worked with one before back in the carnival. He understood everything Jax went on about but when he said he was the patron saint of siblings he about sat there just plain gobsmacked. He wondered if this was some sort of a set up. He wasn't the most trusting creature on the planet, like God was trying to help him with too little too late. "Why? Why now? Why didn't he sent any help before?" Atlas looked like he was either on the verge of a rampage or tears or both, but his body was still, just tight and contracted. "It's too late now."
(12:46:19 AM) Jacques Charbonneau: Jax shook his head again, but very resolutely. He knew what he was feeling now, that it was building, and it was confirmed by the forlorned look in Atlas's eyes. Yes, just as how Jean had found someone to guard and care for, maybe it was leading him to finding his own. He didn't know quite how yet, but he felt the divine compelling he knew that the others in his family had felt – that no matter what, he had to do something.
"No, it's not too late," he said. "God's timing is always right. He means for there to be something for you to do, or be, or know. I'm sure of it. Even in the very darkest time, when I thought I would never see my big brother again, He provided a way. He's going to do it for you, too."
Jax still had his hands around Atlas's, and now he reminded him of this by smoothing them over, patting them. "I want you to go with me. I want you to meet my family. I just know it will be really meaningful for you. I want you to see my brother, and my sister. They're angels, Atlas. So is my Dad. My Papa, though, he's a saint like me. I know you'll like him, and he'll like you too. He's the bravest saint there ever was, because he fights demons. He still does. He and my dad, they have this thing... it's like an organization to help people with... otherworldly problems. And I just know if you talk to them then we can all help you with anything you need." His eyes took on that look again. He was just pleading for Atlas to accept.
(12:54:56 AM) Atlas Acron: "God's timing is always right?" He repeated. There was anything but agreement on in his tone. "Where was God or his angels when that demon was wreaking havoc all over West Virginia? Was his timing right when that girl jumped from her window and committed suicide out of pure fear of my face?" Atlas had no idea that demon was standing right behind him when it happened. He could only see the memories from his own point of view and how he lived them. The tear finally fell over his cheek. "Why should I meet your family? So I can see the a family God decided to save when he had such perfect timing with mine?" He wasn't angry at Jax per sae. He was just so angry at the whole situation. "If your family wants to do something for me, go kill the damn demon. But, Jesus Jax? What does even that do for me? It does bring her back. It doesn't bring any of them back."
(1:08:41 AM) Jacques Charbonneau: Jax was more than a little taken aback, maybe even a bit stung by all of that. He bit his lip hard and turned his face down, his hands going a little limp. This was hard. Very hard. And he had never done it before, being such a new saint, so all he had to go by was how he felt.
"I... I know... it... but you have to believe," he tried to supply, but it felt weak in his throat and sounded even weaker in the air. "I don't know why, but... I just know there must be better for you. I know there's more. You just have to try."
When he looked up again, he was fully stunned yet again by that single tear. It made his breath catch in his throat, and he said a prayer in his head. God, please let me do the right thing.
"Don't you want to honor her sacrifice? You said you wanted to stop the demon. That's why you should come with me. I don't know what to do, I'm too young, but I just know my Papa will know. And my Dad. If you want answers, he can help you ask God. But, I don't want you to give up."
(1:20:21 AM) Atlas Acron: It was. It was hard to believe from Atlas's perspective that God was anything so wonderful and loving at all. He'd never been there for him before. At least, that's how he saw it. "I don't believe it." He said started to stand himself up out of the sand. He rose his tattooed arms up to his head and squeezed at his hair looking around from side to side like he couldn't decide if he just wanted to run or fly or just maybe scream. He didn't really address everything Jax said to him out loud. This was all a lot to process for a guy like Atlas who surely hadn't been expecting to get so philosophical and open with a complete stranger tonight, a complete stranger wasn't so correct. As he stood there he started to put two and two together and realized this was the boy from online who wanted to see his circus stuff. This was also the "complete stranger" that just saved his life from burning himself up in a mothball flaming death spiral. Jax had just told him not do anything out of revenge but solely out of love, but the one thing Jax kept saying that was filtering in was his Dad would fight demons. "I'll come, if you say they can find him." He knelt down in the sand in front of Jax and laid hands on both the saint's knees. He'd been looking for that demon for so long. "I want to stop him."
(1:31:57 AM) Jacques Charbonneau: With his heart thundering in his chest, Jax just stayed in the sand and waited. He pressed his hands together, their palms feeling empty, and waited for Atlas to come around. Maybe he would be able to see it. Maybe he wouldn't. All he could do was show him the way, and wait for him to follow. The process was unfolding in his mind in what seemed to be such rapid flip-flops, Jax just watching as he got up and pulled his hair and looked so... lost. He needed the time, of course. This was so fast, and so strange, surely Atlas was allowed such a moment. So Jax waited.
He wanted to breathe a sigh of relief when Atlas returned to him. He met his eyes and nodded emphatically. "Okay. And not just him. One day we'll stop all of them, so that one day no one has to miss their brother or sister, or their parents, or anyone. There will be a day like that, you know that?" Jax smiled to encourage him.
(1:42:00 AM) Atlas Acron: Atlas took a deep breath as Jax's words. He simply wasn't buying all this stuff. He just knew he wanted to get some cummupits and rub that demon's nose in the dirt as hard as he could for that last lie. He left town alright, just like their deal was. He even let his damn sister go, just like he said. He let her go and plummet to her death. He wasn't going to lie to Jax about his own beliefs now either. But, he wasn't going to be hateful to someone trying to help him either. Instead he swallowed hard and pressed his forehead against the other's, the firelights bouncing off both faces, shadows flickering as he spoke with those colorful covered eyes gazing right into Jax's. "You'll have to keep that faith for both of us. I think I'm all out."
(1:53:16 AM) Jacques Charbonneau: This was new. At such an intimate gesture, even more so than any hug of sympathy or touch of the hands, Jax all but froze. All he could focus on was the plastic coating over Atlas's eyes, finding himself wishing that he could stare through them to see him, and yet also recognizing a little bit of safety in such distance. His heart, nevertheless, was in his throat. The young saint hadn't considered that his duty might include anything personal beyond compassion – he hadn't expected to be rewarded or liked personally or anything of the sort. But this was strange and engulfing. Good, too. He could really have an impact on someone.
His answer came slowly, only after staying there for a moment and feeling the exotic rush of closeness. "I... okay. Don't worry." was all he could manage.
(2:04:51 AM) Atlas Acron: Atlas waited patiently never leaving his eyes until Jax spoke. When he did, that was enough. It was just all Atlas could handle for one evening. The muscles in his cheeks shifted as his jaw loosened, the crunched up skin around the piercing at the bridge of his nose unfolded. His face almost seemed at ease for one split moment of time. Then he replaced the warmth of his forehead against the other's with his lips, leaving on him a kiss that relished the moment, holding his forehead firm, while Atlas's mind still considered everything he'd heard. He pulled back and glanced down at Jax. "I gotta go." He stood up. "Call me or something. But... really... I gotta go." And with that he started to jog off backwards, ready to just turn and run if Jacques didn't stop him or say anything else.
(2:17:23 AM) Jacques Charbonneau: Even more than before, did Jacques feel like a deer in headlights. He really wasn't expecting to be kissed, even a kiss on the forehead, and he blinked several times, not protesting when Atlas got up. It had been a long night, and surely dawn would be creeping back up on this side of the world soon. He would need to get back to the portal while he could still conceivably sneak home. He stumbled back to his feet as well, his fingers rising to press lightly at his forehead.
"Yeah... okay," he agreed, then realizing that probably looked silly and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'll do that. I'll talk to my family, and then I'll come find you."
As an afterthought, while Atlas started to jog away, Jax lifted his arm in the air and waved. "See you soon!"