Jono Starsmore (
furnaceface) wrote in
fandomtownies2019-04-28 10:16 am
Entry tags:
Groovy Tunes, Sunday
Why.
Why was this Jonothon's life?
Whyyyy was his stereo refusing to play anything but classic country today? Not that Jonothon had anything against Johnny Cash or Hank Williams, but after the umpteenth hour of steel guitars and songs about pickup trucks, he really did just want to beat his forehead against a wall for a while. Maybe blissful unconsciousness would save him...
In any case, the Groovy Tunes was open, and the stereo was bent on warning mamas to not let their babies grow up to be cowboys.
[OOC: Open!]
Why was this Jonothon's life?
Whyyyy was his stereo refusing to play anything but classic country today? Not that Jonothon had anything against Johnny Cash or Hank Williams, but after the umpteenth hour of steel guitars and songs about pickup trucks, he really did just want to beat his forehead against a wall for a while. Maybe blissful unconsciousness would save him...
In any case, the Groovy Tunes was open, and the stereo was bent on warning mamas to not let their babies grow up to be cowboys.
[OOC: Open!]

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She walked in and called out, "Hey Jon, I brought you a.."
Stopped. Stared. Tensed. Well, it had been a cup of coffee-flavored sugary milk a moment before and now it was kind of a crumpled paper mass and a puddle on the floor with drips falling off her hand.
"What happened?! When the fuck did you blow up again?"
Upset would be a word for it.
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//Didn't,// Jono replied, holding up his hands. //Not exactly. It's fine, luv, this is the island's fault. Wasn't anything horrible or traumatic. I just... didn't turn back again after that absurd Wednesday where nothing could figure out what the hell it wanted to be for more than ten seconds.//
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She wasn't upset because he hadn't told her - nothing like that. Jack didn't have a terribly good sense of time and hadn't realized how long it had been since she'd seen him last and that made her feel bad.
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Her hand was wet. Why.. oh. "Uh. Shit. Got a mop? I can clean this up."
Oops?
"Your husband said you got a visit from the same daughter you've had for awhile, congrats for that?"
What do you even say to that?
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She was... sort of a challenge, physically speaking, and Jono and Hannibal didn't exactly spend enough time in New York together to really stumble over whatever doohickey in Hank's lab had supposedly accidentally combined their DNA and made a little girl out of it.
... Come to that, Jon wasn't completely certain Hank was even hanging around the school these days anyway.
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At all. At. All. She was still entirely freaked about the thing Abney'd said. The thing she was very most definitely not thinking about because she'd just start screaming. Again.
Carefully stepping over the puddle so she didn't track it in further, she waited for the mop so she could clean up the mess she'd made. A small sigh. Well, that was one way to get rid of a coffee she no longer needed and didn't want to have to drink herself.
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He wouldn't wish even an echo of his mutation on anybody. Wasn't completely certain he wasn't firing blanks anyway, considering all of the damage to his... basically everything that could be scooped out of him with a melon baller if someone had the guts to go on in through that gaping chest cavity.
//But she's a pleasant thought, once a year,// he added, offering Jack the mop. //Somewhere, it's not an absolute disaster.//
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It took her a second to answer. Trying to phrase it in a way that sounded less awful. "I don't want any. Never did. Human biotics, it don't end well when we try to have 'em and I'm nobody anyone should trust raising a baby. Had that shit surgically fixed ages ago and then got an implant on top of it just because I'm a paranoid wonderfreak," Jack said. "I like being a teacher. Someone else has had the raising of them and all I do is help give 'em more tools in the box for 'survive to adulthood', you know? I'm still surprised every year that people trust me with their kids even that much but so far, I haven't fucked that up any."
Rinsed and wrung the mop, started the next pass. "Knowing there's a reality out there where someone trusted me with raising one? That shit's terrifying on so many levels. Somewhere out there, I'm not me. Maybe that's a good thing. I don't know. It's scary as fuck anyhow."
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He paused to let that sit for a second before considering, //Somewhere out there, you're not you. Maybe you're a mother or a rockstar or a sentient goldfish. I've seen realities where I'm not me. Seen plenty, and some of them are so far from who I am, they're really only me so far as the name and the face are concerned.//
A beat.
//Half the face are concerned.//
Leave it to Jono to go for a dig on that one at every opportunity.
//What about it worries you the most, Jack? That somewhere out there, there's a Jack that isn't you, or even the faintest possibility that you might become somebody so completely different, you don't recognize that person to see her?//
Incidentally, Jonothon had some experience in that area, too.
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'Jack' is me. It's the me I built, it's the name I earned and gave myself when I stopped being property. There is nowhere in the multiverse where I'm 'Jack' and didn't go through the shit, Jon. That damage.. this is as 'fixed' as it fucking gets. I'm changing, that's true. I'm better than I was, but there's never gonna be a time I'm safe. Some of the damage is goddamn instinct. A sudden noise, a sudden motion I catch out of the corner of my eye and I react and even if I pull the punch - I still fucking punch.
She swallowed. Somewhere out there is a me that didn't go through the shit. Maybe she's a good person. Maybe she's hell on wheels. I don't know and I don't really care but this place makes me think maybe she's out there somewhere and that's.. I mean, it's kind of a good thought. Somewhere, in some timeline, Cerberus didn't get me. That person? Her name is Jennifer. Not Jack. Maybe Jennifer could have kids. Hell, maybe she fucking does. I hope she got a happy life and a universe free from the fucking Reapers. But her? She ain't me and I can never, ever be her. I didn't meet the kid, thank fuck. She was a mention from Sparkle and Hernando's maybe-someday-daughter. And all I want to do about it is find whoever the fuck thought it'd be a good idea to give me even partial custody of a child and break their fucking neck before it can happen. To keep that poor girl safe. From me. From whatever she'd become with me raising her.
Jack moved the mop around the floor. Out loud, she said, "I like your fucking face, Jon. It took a little bit to get used to the other one. This is the one you had when I met you. It's not 'half' an anything, it's your fucking face."
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The multiverse was, indeed, one hell of a place.
//She isn't you,// he said softly, words just between the two of them. //And you won't ever be her. You'll be the one in this reality, knowing where your line is drawn and holding to it.// He considered her for a moment. //And not alone in making certain that line is respected, luv.//
There were always options around this place. At the very least, there was that.
Out... more or less loud... he added, //It's my face. More my face than some faces I've had, for that matter. Though I'll probably be wrapping up for a while.//
Always a great time heading into the summer.
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Her brow puckered and she threw him a glance, "Why the wraps? Are you having dysphoria now?"
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An out. Someone to scream at. Someone who can do the screaming for her. He'd figure it out.
This, of course, was followed by a small hiking up of his shoulder.
//There's always a little of that,// he noted, //the worst of it's passed now. The wraps are less about me, and more about... well... other people.//
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"Yeah, but it's been weeks, so if it was at the 'oh god cover my face' stage just now, that'd be fucking worrying, Jon," Jack said with a small frown.
"The summer kids," she said after a moment, "New students. Are the ones next week just here for the summer or do they usually stay the rest of the year?"
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She had one more reassurance that she wasn't on her own, come what may. He understood what that meant.
//The summer kids,// he agreed, a touch wryly. //Some of them stay, some of them don't. Whatever the case might be, I like to at least wait until they've had some manner of exposure to something at least a little bit startling that isn't me. If I had a penny for every time someone's screamed, called me a freak, or tried to put me out, even here on the island...// He paused. Here on the island? //... I could probably make a phone call, if I could make any use of a pay phone.//
That was still plenty of times, granted.
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//Mind, there are a few students who are... not exactly human average themselves, at the moment,// he noted. //I've been known to attend welcome picnics just so that the new kids have somewhere to direct their gawping that isn't them.//
Which... might be a little weird, since he wasn't actually teaching this term. But then, townies were just as welcome to the picnics as anybody.
Eh. He'd mull it over.
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She mopped the area a little more aggressively than necessary. "Really fucking bugs me there's not an orientation. There really fucking ought to be."
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He shrugged, watching that mop go.
//That's only useful to a minor degree. And the onus shouldn't be on our students to make certain that the new blood keeps an open mind. Or at least that the new blood knows not to pull any bigoted shite while they're here.//
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//Welcome to Fandom,// Jono replied wryly. //Responsible adults are really rather at a premium, I'm afraid.//
Truer words...
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//They'll at least be forewarned that way,// Jono allowed. //They might think it's some manner of elaborate hazing, or that their teachers are bloody mad, but at least they can't say nobody warned them.//
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