@firestartermorgan / firestartermorgan.tumblr.com
“Hopefully getting back to work,” she explained with a nod of her head. “And spending as much time with my daughter before school starts.”
“I’ll have to come in for a drink one of these nights. Take a load off.” He’d been on his feet through all of this. It was the only way Morgan could stand coping. “Oh. Then the real challenge starts.” The mutant chuckled to himself. “Is she good with math? You’re pretty much set for life if you start good.”
“We are doing better.” She nodded as she noticed the concerned look. “I promise, I’m a lot better.”
“Great to hear...” Morgan offered a half grin, gaze soft and gentle. “More than great. What do you plan to get up to now?”
What kind of wedding would they want to have?
(cue choking on water sounds)
Okay. Dream scenario, for me, right? Get your pinterest board ready. No fucking family, extended or otherwise, not even friends. No kids. The preacher will be lucky to get invited–actually, it would be a captain. Probably Sal. He’ll smell like he’s just done half a days worth of work on the boat or in the market, because he had (he’ll have to pen this in), and it’s right by the Puget Sound far from the city. Just. Green and no noise or pollution and… us. Me and the uh… yeah. That. Like location isn’t everything, shit can be done online these days, but I guess Pike Place wouldn’t be so bad if some public witnesses that aren’t seagulls are required.
Just me. Only sad part is the rest of our lives couldn’t run like that. Obviously with whoever it.. is with, their want would be heavily considered as well.
Would they ever enter/have they ever entered into a friends with benefits relationship?
Uhh… yes and yes. –It was nothing long term, but a lot of fun.
Alisa had a tendency to space out,especially when she was by herself. She had been in the cafe for a while,scribbling down notes to help improve the bar and some doodles to go with them. She had been so lost that she was only brought out of her trance by somebody hitting the back of her chair. “What? I’m here,what time is it?”
“Time for you to get a watch.” Morgan snickered at his own dad joke before welcoming himself at the table he’d filled many times before. He couldn’t help but drop his gaze toward the many sheets of paper. “Keepin’ busy? Between caring for my sister and just about everyone else in this small town there’s gotta be someone to look out for me too.”
Sabrina looked over at him and carefully studied his features for a moment. “No no, I’ll be your drinking buddy this evening.” She looked over at her drink before taking a sip. “You look a little…worn out maybe?”
Honesty wasn’t really Morgan’s thing. At least he rarely gave the idea a chance. Between discovering his abnormalities, then getting swept up in gambling and the trouble that followed. Well. Honesty wasn’t the easy route. “‘just worried about my sister.” Morgan confessed. “‘course she’d get sick...” He wasn’t bitter and he hoped his tone didn’t come off as such. “If it wasn’t for her, I might just run away.” That was a true lie. Morgan had grown attached to a great number of folk in town. He wanted to help them too.
“Typically, I don’t drink, but after all this craziness.” Sabrina nodded as she took a sip. “Seems like we could use it don’t you think? Want one?”
“Yes.” Morgan sighed, both elbows shrugged lazily onto the counter. His eyes were honest for a change; tired and distant. Giving way to a rare mature side of the mutants personality. “I’d be doing it alone anyway...” With company was better.
they shrug, rubbing at the back of their neck as they shake their head. “dunno. ‘till i get bored, mostly.” it’s a lie, but valence is a pretty good liar. “fishing, huh? never did that. y’know, like - usually stayed in more, like, populated areas.” cities, mostly - they spent some time in seattle. cities are where jobs are. where unrest is. where things happen and they can get paid for making them go. “yeah, makes sense - that you’re not like, out there, right now.”
“Fair enough.” Morgan nodded in a passive manner. It truly was none of his business. “Yeah. I had no loving great grandpapi teach me about that stuff. It actually happened later in life, once I gained independence--sorta made learning difficult, but we all start somewhere.” The work was a wake up call, coworkers were rough around the edges, but Morgan had needed the distraction. “A shame really.” He left it at that to avoid talk about the illness as they agreed earlier.
“nah, came here from down south, but i’ve been pretty much everywhere, y’know? don’t know how long i’ll stay here.” until they fuck up and the cops are after them, probably. that’s how valence operates. hang around in town. inevitably break a law or two or five. flee from the town or city or state. they rub a hand through their hair and shrug. “how ‘bout you?”
Down south. No matter the reputation such a region carried, it always had a romantic sort of ring to it. An opposite spectrum compared to Morgan’s idea of home but a part of the country he’d like to visit none-the-less. “How long do you usually stick around?” Morgan pried, ready to apologize if he went too far. Usually, Morgan would consider lying to a stranger, especially drifters. They seemed to get him though, so where was the harm? “Seattle is my home; more accurately the waters of. I’m a fisherman at heart. Don’t get much out here on the tiny lake Ehnita... especially these days.”
“like strings on a bunch’a those, uh - fuck, the, the puppets that’re on strings, you know those ones? where you’ve got like, the sticks and the strings and there’s a puppet on the end of the strings?” hands wave about in an attempt to illustrate their point, “uh - those. like a bunch of those with the strings all caught in each other. nice to meet you, morgan.”
Morgan laughed, “Yeah, yeah, I understand. Strings attached ain’t my thing.” Though that had changed since running into Holly, the idea still scared him. He scared himself. “Really good to meet you too. You’re not from here originally, I’m assuming?”
“dude. that’s like - way more detail than this thing gave me.” cover of the magazine is flipped closed and they shove it towards him with a shrug. a short laugh is given at his words and they smirk behind their coffee cup, nodding. “yeah, dude, i get it. like - just keeping your distance ‘cause you don’t wanna get tangled up in shit is totally fair. i’m usually in the middle of these kinda things and i’m just like - no thanks, right now, yeah?” they finish the rest of their coffee in a long swig and stick their tongue out a bit - fuck, that burned! - before ruffling a hand through dark locks. “ - uh, don’t think we’ve met? i’m valence.”
“Seriously?” Morgan barked a short laugh and decided to browse lazily through the journal while nursing his cup of joe. Wearing a grimace, Morgan nodded slowly, “Tangled. What a word. Sums it all up pretty freaking well.” He was married to the philosophy of running from problems, a runaway till death parted them. “The middle would be the eye of a storm. Calm sea. So middle is a good choice. Valence... cool. I’m Morgan.” His brows shifted in a charming manner that matched well with the lopsided smirk.
they look up from the magazine when the other person doesn’t automatically bring up how the town has gone to hell in the past week automatically. a half grin is offered and they tug their phone and earbuds out of a pocket. “uh, like - podcasts and shit, mostly. and work. and reading trashy magazines like this one - some celebs are getting divorced or something and it’s all anyone is talking about, or - whatever. y’know.” and raging on internet forums about it ( darker places where plans brew for retaliation ), but they aren’t gonna air that one out in public. “how about you?”
Morgan quirked a brow and gave a cat-like smirk in turn, dropping a dark gaze toward the tabloid. "Hm...” Though he’d led a life of desertion and isolation on the open seas before moving to this town, by now Morg had gotten mostly back in the swing with current buzz and actually recognized the pair--but not the other three haphazardly photoshopped alongside them. “those two. I’ve heard they’ve dated for years, paired up in like four rom-coms, but still haven’t tied the knot. ‘bet they just live for the attention that speculation brings with it.“ He blinked once as they asked about him. Letting out a small huff, Page said, “I’ve been trying to not be part of the problem, for once.” It was a joke, but... “Being active in the face of horror is... the only way I can function.” Crap, was that too much? Weird? Morgan shut himself up by taking another sip of coffee.
“Something small.” She said trying to hold the wheezes off until she at least finished her sentence. Holly’s body leaned forward a bit as a few howl coughs shook her body. It was still an improvement for the nasty coughing fits she become used to this past week.
“Maybe a grilled cheese, or soup?” Morgan offered. His skills with a stove were limited unless the meals came in a box labeled with most ingredients and directions. Morgan knew was to cook in order to get by, stay alive, that had worked well enough for him over the years. “Glass of milk with a drop of whiskey?” The mutant teased if only to keep the mood light.
“ - if you wanna chat about how like, totally fucked this place is right now, how about we, uh, skip it? ‘cause i’m approximately four minutes away from a total fucking meltdown over it, you know? and talking about it isn’t doing shit, and i kinda just want to finish my coffee without a side of existential crisis?” valence doesn’t even look up from the magazine they’re reading as they ramble. because seriously? honestly? they are super tired and don’t have the mental capacity to talk about anything other than the new records in at the store.
“‘could use the break myself. Being one of the few healthy people around town comes with it’s own downsides.” The local butcher sighed around the rim of his strong black coffee. He’d clocked in too many hours between actual work, volunteering with the clean water delivery service and caring after his sister, but the mutant supposed he owed her that much. “How do you stay busy and keep your mind off of it all?” Morgan asked, honestly curious to hear another persons methods.
Holly nodded, her voice was still hoarse and unsteady. “Yeah, maybe I’m on the mend.” There was a hopeful tone in her voice. “I think I’m hungry.”
“Maybe.” Morgan agreed with a chuckle. He was happy to have Holly safe and indoors, but kept himself in check between plastic disposable gloves, a simple routine face mask, and washing hands religiously. It worked well enough for the pair who were mature and in sync to leave leg work to Morgan. “That is improvement. What are you in the mood for?”
(via discomforted)
