Marius and Monet, 15th October
Oct. 15th, 2007 04:27 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsOOC: Er, yes, this is backdated a lot. Shh!
Monet asks Marius to accompany her in some much deserved arse kicking.
Monet knocked on his door and shouldered it open. "Hey, Marius, mate. Look, I've got a favour to ask you."
Her half-brother blinked from the couch, frozen in mid-chew while taking a bite out of his toast. The look on Monet's face prompted a slightly too rapid attempt to swallow.
The bulk of the coughing passed quickly. "'Course," Marius replied, thumping himself on the chest. "What's wrong? It your, eh . . ." He trailed off, unwilling to add 'mysterious illness?'. Her health had not been a comfortable subject lately. It wasn't that he didn't care, but Marius had found the only way he could deal with Monet's problem was the same way he'd dealt with his own: discussing them as little as possible.
But something about this didn't seem like some dying request. He wasn't really seeing fear when looking at Monet. There was tension, but less on the side of terror and closer to, say, that of a raised fist. Or, perhaps more accurately for Monet, the last thing seen by some unfortunate peon reaching right past her nose and grabbed the last pair of designer shoes in the appropriate size.
"Yeah, it's about my little problem.The professor figured it out. It's been caused by my dad's other son Marius, the one he disowned about the time you were born, in fact." She took a deep breath. "We reckon we can fix it if we go and get him to undo it. Clarice says she'll give me and Jean a lift over to Sydney. You want to come and hit him till he fixes it for us? I'm too likely to accidentally kill him right now."
Marius blinked, parsing this. The mention of Sydney was preeminent in his attention, but even the possibility of retribution for the low-simmering stress these past few weeks could not drown out one vital detail.
"Eh . . . wait. Somebody's managed to dredge another x-factor out've the St. Croix genepool?" His brows furrowed. "That simulates brain tumours?"
"The good news is that they're not brain tumours. The bad news is that, according to Xavier, it was supposed to delete me, so he could move in.Only he's a fucktard and got it wrong and I came back her before he could finish it." She said it as flippantly as she could mange. "Hence this" and Monet held out a trembling hand.
The boy looked at the tremor. It evoked memories, most of which featured life-support systems.
Marius looked up.
"So, I believe you mentioned somethin' about hitting."
Monet asks Marius to accompany her in some much deserved arse kicking.
Monet knocked on his door and shouldered it open. "Hey, Marius, mate. Look, I've got a favour to ask you."
Her half-brother blinked from the couch, frozen in mid-chew while taking a bite out of his toast. The look on Monet's face prompted a slightly too rapid attempt to swallow.
The bulk of the coughing passed quickly. "'Course," Marius replied, thumping himself on the chest. "What's wrong? It your, eh . . ." He trailed off, unwilling to add 'mysterious illness?'. Her health had not been a comfortable subject lately. It wasn't that he didn't care, but Marius had found the only way he could deal with Monet's problem was the same way he'd dealt with his own: discussing them as little as possible.
But something about this didn't seem like some dying request. He wasn't really seeing fear when looking at Monet. There was tension, but less on the side of terror and closer to, say, that of a raised fist. Or, perhaps more accurately for Monet, the last thing seen by some unfortunate peon reaching right past her nose and grabbed the last pair of designer shoes in the appropriate size.
"Yeah, it's about my little problem.The professor figured it out. It's been caused by my dad's other son Marius, the one he disowned about the time you were born, in fact." She took a deep breath. "We reckon we can fix it if we go and get him to undo it. Clarice says she'll give me and Jean a lift over to Sydney. You want to come and hit him till he fixes it for us? I'm too likely to accidentally kill him right now."
Marius blinked, parsing this. The mention of Sydney was preeminent in his attention, but even the possibility of retribution for the low-simmering stress these past few weeks could not drown out one vital detail.
"Eh . . . wait. Somebody's managed to dredge another x-factor out've the St. Croix genepool?" His brows furrowed. "That simulates brain tumours?"
"The good news is that they're not brain tumours. The bad news is that, according to Xavier, it was supposed to delete me, so he could move in.Only he's a fucktard and got it wrong and I came back her before he could finish it." She said it as flippantly as she could mange. "Hence this" and Monet held out a trembling hand.
The boy looked at the tremor. It evoked memories, most of which featured life-support systems.
Marius looked up.
"So, I believe you mentioned somethin' about hitting."
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