General Fucked-up-ness

Who: Hannah and Seph
Where: Texts, the cemetery, and then the breakwall
When: Afternoonish

Everything was done. Messages had been sent, via snail mail, telephone, and email, and there was nothing Hannah could do now but wait. And be antsy. And wait some more.

This did not bode well for the next few days while she waited for her family to get back to her. She needed a distraction, and big time. She'd already had her dose of Chance for the day, Peyton... she wasn't sure she felt comfortable randomly hanging out with yet, Lucius was, as far as she knew, still off with his girlfriend, and that was pretty much all she knew in town.

Them, and Seph.

So Seph it was! She already had her cell phone in hand, since she'd been scrolling through her address book idly, so starting up a text to him was quick and easy.

Yo. I'm bored. You busy? Wanna go for a hike/swim/treeclimb/shooting match/anything? 8D

Seph had only gotten up fairly recently. The day before had been spent mostly sleeping, and it looked like this one was going to follow suit. It was coming in patches, but at least it was coming, and he felt better than he had in quite a few days because of it. He was foraging in the kitchen, glancing through the leftovers from what Natalya had made in the fridge when the phone in his pocket started to buzz. He looked over Hannah's text and smirked faintly.

Swim/treeclimb no good. Stitches and still kinda kitten-weak. Walking/shooting, tho, i can do. Not busy, just eating. Want to do something thats not fighting for your life?

Trying to imagine Seph as anything even resembling a kitten-- and succeeding, to her mild surprise and amusement; he made a stupidly cute, adorable-fierce kitten in her head-- Hannah texted back, Invalid :P Sokay, I probly couldn't, either. Bandages n shit. Anything not fightingish is good. Meet you someplace? Pick you up at your place? What you want?

Unaware that he'd inspired her to think anything relating to him and any sort of adorable, Seph considered before he texted back, already heading out of the kitchen and in the direction of the stairs. Yeah you get your throat ripped out & then feel limber. :p I can meet you somewhere. Entrance to Cem. Park? He started to climb, and hated how slow it had to be. Taking it easy was not his strong point.

Did he have some aversion to her ever finding his house? If so, why did he invite her to stay whenever? Damn, she needed to find his mirrors. Even if they were all broken, she could still see through them, and see what the big deal was. Unless he was one of those boys who had an aversion to the girl picking them up. Hrm. She started climbing into the Bronco's front seat from the back, then paused halfway to shoot a text back, lying on her back between the two front seats. You know, you never did explain throat thing. You get to do that today, mister. see you there.

Seph gave a very dry and raspy chuckle before tucking his phone away and ducked into his room to put some better clothes on. He shot Syn a thought that he was going out, and soon enough was on his way. Despite the day being warm, he had a scarf wrapped around his neck. Just in case they ended up going anywhere with other people around. He thought he looked like a douchebag, but it was better than getting questions he didn't want to answer. And the Harry Potter look was in or whatever. He cut through yard to head to the park, hands tucked into his pockets, looking around at the hella-empty town.

Seeing as she had a car and Seph only had feet, Hannah was waiting for him when he got there, leaning back against the bumper of her Bronco, arms folded and head back, watching the clouds and listening for his footsteps. She dropped her chin at the sound, once he was within footfall-hearing-range, and flashed him a grin, unfolding an arm to wave. "Hey, dude. No ride?"

He gave her an 'are you serious?' face and looked pointedly around them and then up at the sky. It was a beautiful day, and he really did need to walk as much as he could. Once he got close enough, he dug his handy-dandy notepad and Sharpie out of his back pocket and scribbled her a note. Too pretty. So what're we doin? He turned it so she could read it.

Hannah looked up at the sky again, squinting a bit as the sun came out from behind one of the little clouds, and shrugged. "Hell, I seen it. I'll see it again. And I got my fill seeing it waiting for you," she added, teasing. "What're we doin? Well, fuck, I was hopin' you had an idea. Can you walk and write at the same time, or you wanna hop in?" She jerked a thumb behind her at the Bronco.

Seph flipped her off for the first bit, in as friendly a way as such a gesture could be made, then went back to writing. What worries me more is can you drive and read at the same time? So to save possible death = want to go out to the breakwall & walk around? It was a favorite spot of his, having a lot to do with how much Syn loved it. And loved to take pictures of him there. Still, it was as good a place as any, and probably deserted, even on a pretty day.

"You doubt my ability to focus on two things at the same time?" Hannah snorted at him after she'd read that over. "What do you think I am, a guy?" She punched his shoulder, gently enough that if he had a cut under his shirt there it wouldn't actually hurt-- hopefully-- and added, "Breakwall's fine. I like the lake, even if it's fucking freezing as hell. You know, if hell were cold." Trying to call something "freezing as hell" really didn't work so well. Shit. "You know," she mused, "there are no swearwords that fit well with 'freezing'."

As he saw it coming, he fully expected the punch to make him uncomfortable. Give him that twinge in his limbs that he got so often when people he didn't know touched him. But it didn't. It might've had something to do with the swirling aura of death energy around her. But it didn't bother him. I've always been partial to 'cold as a witch's titty', or just plain 'fucking freezing', but hey, everybody's got their pref. I doubt your ability to focus on two very visual things at once. So don't expect me to talk, he wrote and showed to her, smirking faintly. Then started to head for the Bronco passenger side.

"Holy shit, you use that?" Hannah laughed, taken more by that than his promised lack of talking. "Cold as a witch's tit? That one went out of style ages ago." And had actually been one of her (many) favorites, before they invented the word "fuck". She didn't think she'd ever told him quite how old she was. Not that it mattered, really, but she hadn't, and she wasn't quite sure she wanted to yet. She followed Seph around, pulling the keys out of her pocket to unlock the door for him. "It's a dinosaur," she explained with a grin, opening it for him, too, and motioning him in grandly. "No automatic locks."

The inside of the Bronco looked as well-worn as the rusty-red outside, and a glance in the back seat showed blankets folded neatly one one seat, with a pillow on top and a closed suitcase right behind the driver's side seat. There was a brown paper grocery bag of books behind the passenger side seat, and is Seph could see all the way into the back, there were the mirrors, stacked on the floor with towels thrown haphazardly over them, exposing the glass more often than not.

Hannah went back over to the driver's side door and climbed in to start the engine. Today, the music of choice was Manson. "You got a musical preference?" she asked over the sound of the music as she put the Bronco in gear and pulled away from the curb. "There's a CD case in the glove box and another in the side of the door, there. Take your pick." There also happened to be a spare gun in her glove box, but she figured he wouldn't be too surprised by that.

Seph grinned slightly as she unlocked the door for him, and he climbed inside, checking the place out. She really did live out of her car. He noted the mirrors in the back curiously, but turned back around when she got in and started to drive. Idly, he popped open the glovebox and pulled the CD case out to flip through, going slow and examining her taste in music. It always said a lot about people, he'd found. Usually, anyway. The Manson was fine for now, however, and he just looked. He generally liked the harder stuff. And Syn had listened to pretty much nothing but what was on their mom's laptop for years now. It was more or less the soundtrack to their house, seeing as how Teddy piped it through the whole place for her a lot of the time. It was good to flip through something new and different.

The music was mostly more of the same, a lot of hard rock, metal, and Industrial with the occasional pop rock, punk, 80s, and rap. There were a couple really old country and folk albums, music that had to be remastered for CD and loudly proclaimed it on the booklets also tucked in with the CDs. Her favorite bands were obvious, though: Metallica, Megadeth, Soundgarden and Audioslave, Nine Inch Nails, and Depeche Mode-- the latter of which didn't fit in as well with the others, but she still had every album. Hannah didn't comment on his perusing while she drove, nor did she sing along-- though she did when she was alone, she didn't exactly have a pretty voice, so she got remarkably self-conscious with other people in the car-- though she did glance over now and then to see where he paused, if anywhere. She agreed that musical choices said a lot about a person.

He'd lingered over the Metallica and Soundgarden and the like, noting that she had every Halo from NIN -- as did he -- and decided that he needed to burn a few discs for her from some of the lesser-known bands that he'd been exposed to. He didn't try to communicate while she drove, just glancing up every now and then to see where they were on the road. Being mute? Really kind of sucked. A lot. With everyone but his twin, at least. He realized in a vaguely surprised way that he hadn't told Hannah that they were twins. He didn't think so, anyway. Just 'sister'. He set that CD book aside and pulled the other one to look through too.

The other book actually had some lesser-known and older bands, though probably not everything he knew of as most of her collection came from family and things she'd heard on the radio over the past fifty years. It also had a lot more 80s deathmetal and near-techno, and every Beatles album ever released on CD-- in year-order rather than alphabetical order-- plus some chick rock. Hannah had a weird affection for Alanis Morisette and Ani DiFranco.

By the time he got through that one, though, they were at a point on the road where they were as close to the breakwater as they were going to get, so she pulled over and parked. "Car ride's over," she announced, obviously. "Take it you don't have a problem with Marilyn Manson, then." She shot him a grin before shutting off the engine.

Seph made the breathy-rusty sound that was his chuckle now and put the CD book aside to pull his notebook out. He personally is a douchebag, but he makes good music, he wrote and showed to her. Then popped the door of the Bronco open and climbed out, closing his eyes briefly against the gust of nice wind coming off of the water. Even though fall would only last about five seconds here -- once the weird late summer quit, at least -- he loved it intensely every time. It was good for him. He walked around and down toward the path that led to the water and the breakwall, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure she was coming.

"A lot of musicians are sacks of shit, really," Hannah agreed, "but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy the angry lyrics and heavy electric guitar. And screaming, never forget the screaming." Hannah loved her music. She hopped out of the car, made a face at herself for hopping onto the still-hurting leg, and slammed the door behind her. She refused to limp, dammit, but she did follow him on out without limping. "So what else you like? Music-wise?" She was still considering the throat-ripping-out question, but figured she'd save that for when they were sitting down and he could give it better attention.

He could at least write and walk at the same time, though it was a bit messier. Lot of stuff you have. Tool, Clutch, NIN, lots of hard stuff. He paused to show that to her, then added, lots of Clash and old punk too, thanks to our dad. He continued walking over the rocks, headed for the big rock-finger that stuck out into the lake. He liked being at the edge of it.

"Rock on," Hannah said approvingly, hands stuck in her pockets as she walked. "I don't actually have any Clash, I don't think, but I've got The Cure, so I think that helps make up for it. Robert Smith is just so weird I couldn't resist buying up his stuff."

Seph shot her a small smile over his shoulder. He was wearing the bandaid still, stuck to his forehead, so it didn't hurt when he felt the stitches pull, bu tit still wasn't a good idea. He kept walking until they'd reached the end of the breakwall, and then found a good flat spot to sit down on. Yes. that was definitely better. He arranged his legs and turned his face into the breeze again for a second.

This time Hannah was a little more careful about sitting down than usual-- fucking shadow-bitches-- and settled next to him. "So you like it out here, huh?" she asked after a moment of shared silence and her making sure nothing was pulling uncomfortably. It wasn't a hard guess, since not only had he suggested it, he looked pretty damn content in every sideways glance she gave him. "The breakwall, or just the lake, or what?"

He looked over at her with a little smile. Really, it was odd, not many people got to see him being any sort of serene. Especially not twice. But he couldn't help it in the cemetery, and he just liked it out here. Yeah, i like it. You? not scared of water, are you? Like both, mostly just the lake. used to jog out here before i got hurt. He showed her the notebook.

Hannah had only seen a few sides of Seph, really-- but hey, she wasn't complaining about the ones she had seen so far. She scanned that, and snorted lightly, grinning. "I suggested swimming, remember? I mean, I was joking, but no-- not afraid of water. Or I'd be in trouble." She'd had to hunt mermaids before-- she would definitely have been in trouble. "It's a good place for a jog, though, seems like." Cocking her head up at him, and the scarf around his neck, and figuring that was a pretty good lead-in, she asked, "So what happened with the whole 'hurt' thing, anyway?"

Seph realized in a belated way that she hadn't been around when he had his scarf off. After a while in his own house, he'd just given up wearing it. Stupid thing got in the way. He held up a finger to her and unwrapped the scarf from around his neck. He tilted his chin up a bit so she could take in the healing wound there, black stitches holding it together, the skin around it still red and irritated. He let her look, then started writing. Had a bad run-in with the Acherus vampires. Almost died. Actually, by all rights, he should've died. Would have, if it wasn't for his sister.

"Holy shit," Hannah breathed at the sight, and shifted to kneel instead of sit and get a better look, leaning over towards him a little. She even started reaching a hand up as if to touch, but belatedly realized that one, it probably would bother him, and two, she didn't know if she could resist taking it, and she was way too beat up to handle something like that. It took her a long moment to look away and down at what he wrote. "Yeeee-ah. I did, too, but I don't look like that... fucking hell, dude. That didn't kill you?" It would've killed her. She just would've come back.

He saw her hand starting to come and pulled back slightly before he caught himself. Just because she had neat swirly death-energy, didn't mean that he was really keen on being touched a lot, especially on the death-wound. But he might've done the same thing, so he didn't fault her for it. He started scribbling more at the question. Nope. Had quick enough medical help, he wrote. It was a half-truth, but it was good enough. Without going into all the real technicalities of it. Itches like a fucker, though.

Pulling her gaze back away from the stitched-up behemoth of injuries again when he showed her the note, Hannah barked a rough little laugh. "Itches?" she read aloud incredulously. "I'm surprised you're up and around-- it ought to hurt like a fucking bitch. No wonder you can't talk." Hell, something like that, he might never talk again... fuck, that was a bad one.

Seph pulled a faint smile. He arched an eyebrow at her and tapped the bandaid on his forehead, moving his hair a little so she could see it better. Then wrote another note. This keeps pain away. Did hurt like a f'ing bitch & still would without this. Still healing. Was laid up in bed for couple weeks. He showed it to her, resisting the urge in his fingers to reach up and scratch around the wound.

"No shit." Hannah frowned at the generally innocuous-looking band-aid. "Useful little thing. I could go in for one of those, seriously." When it didn't matter when you died, having something that made you not feel pain would be amazingly useful. She could keep fighting even if it hurt to do so, and who cared if she died? She'd come back all healed, and start all over again, the next day. "You look fucking good for someone who by all rights should be dead, you know that? Where'd you get that?"

The death elemental would've agreed with her completely. Only the damage he took, he kept. So he was going to be making an attempt to avoid as much of it as he could. Still, the assurance was good to have. Thanks, he jotted down. Still kinda feel like shit. Tired, out of shape. Dunno, sister got it for me in some shop. Waiting for the downside, nothing comes free. $20 she said = not enough. He showed her the notebook and made a little face. Whatever was coming, it was likely going to suck.

"Huh," was Hannah's first response as she read that over. "Yeah, for only twenty bucks? There's gotta be some kinda catch. No magic that useful goes away for that little." Though now she was curious about this shop. She might have to go looking and see what she could find-- she needed to go shopping, anyway. A good half her clothes were ruined, or at least in need of patching, after the past week. "Let me know when you find it, yeah?" she asked hopefully. The magnitude of the down side would say a lot about the maker.

He nodded, not bothering to write that agreement down. He was sure whatever it was, it was going to suck. He hadn't felt anything wrong yet, though, so until he did, he was going to keep wearing the thing. It helped. A lot. Maybe he'd get lucky and he just would heal and then not need it again for a while. He picked up a rock to launch into the water in a lazy arc. As far as conversation went, he wasn't that great at small-talk, even when he could talk.

Hannah was okay with a little silence. She even picked up a rock, too, to see if she could get hers farther than Seph's-- but before she could, her cell phone rang and she jumped in surprise, dropping it. "Fucking ringtone," she growled. She still hadn't changed the Rage Against the Machine song. That was definitely the next order of business, after hanging out with Seph. She pulled the phone from one of her many pockets, and made a face at the number. Not family. "Sorry," she grumbled as she hit "ignore" and put it away again. "Expecting a call. Lots of calls, hopefully." With good news.

Seph looked over as her phone started to ring, one eyebrow lifted slightly. He thought he recognized the tune, but all those mp3 rings or whatever usually sounded like shit to him from those little speakers. He continued to look questioning as she put the phone away. Not that it was really any of his business who she was expected a call from, but hey ... she'd said it.

Since he looked curious, she explained. "See, I kind of got attacked again today." Just kind of. Great way to start off, she knew, but she didn't care. "Just me, so I'm trying to get in touch with my family-- I've got a big one, and they're all into the supernatural shit like us-- about what I can do to get those fuckers gone for good. Nothing I found is gonna be any use, so I need more people looking."

At the words 'attacked again', Seph frowned darkly. That wasn't any good, no good at all. Why was it over for everybody but her? That was kind of fucked. He didn't seem surprised that her family was into the same shit she was, seeing where he came from. What happened w/ you getting attacked? he asked on paper, still not looking like he liked that idea.

"Well, see, there's this place where the shadows come from," Hannah began, a little reluctantly. She might now have much of an idea of privacy and when she was being too nosy or too free with her own information, but she really didn't want Seph to think she was the creepy little stalker that she actually was. She liked the guy. "Behind the mirrors. I can go there-- it's how I get around a lot of the time, not having a shower or anything, and when I need to get to my family really fast. I can use the mirrors. It's how I knew what those fuckers were-- I've seen them before. Not like this, not actually attacking me or coming out into this realm, but just in mirrors. Now they're back in that place, and they're attacking still, there." She let out a frustrated breath. "I like it in there, but now they've gone and taken it over, and it pisses me off."

Yeah, that was kind of disturbing to hear. Seph knew very rudimentary things about the Inbetween. He knew that was where those kids had disappeared to for a while, but not that it was the source of the shadows. Fucked up, he jotted down and showed her, though it wasn't very helpful. He already knew that he couldn't really help; neither Doc nor Teddy had really been able to dig up much on the attacks. He just kind of hoped they didn't leak into other places too, he wanted to be done with the bastards. He stared with a thoughtful frown out at the water.

"Yeah, fucked up's a good word for it," Hannah agreed in a grumble. "So I'm hoping my family's got rarer and better books than Nevermore, squirreled away someplace, that might have some answers. If not... well, I guess I just get to be pissy about it, and watch my back more." And really, she probably ought to warn Chance. She huffed and finally got around to lobbing that rock out over the water. It definitely out-paced Seph's rock.

Seph didn't seem to mind overly much. Though he did pick up another one to throw. It didn't sail or anything, but it was decent. He was gonna chalk it up to muscle atrophy. Yeah. Anything I can do, let me know, he wrote for her. Then leaned back comfortably against one hand, content just to enjoy the water and the not-so-bad company.