08-19-2013, 03:18 PM
Jaxen was too tired to interrupt Tony's soap opera. The CCD hunted down his family? One by one? Then he and Michael kumbaya'd into each other's lives at some point, decided to shack up and been crying themselves to sleep every night since?
But the familiar sound of a bowl landing nearby, now that was enough to rouse Jaxen upright. Whether it was filled with cereal or chocolate-covered shit, he wouldn't have cared too much at that point. He'd never been so hungry in his entire life.
Under the glare of low-drawn brows, Jax glanced between spooning mouthfuls of 'food' in his pie hole and entertaining the debbie downer drama Tony seemed to love so much. Smothered in all that whining was a point, though. Right now--and Jaxen couldn't believe he was really considering this--he was an infant in the lion's den.
The sugary puffs ground loud between his molars, but Jaxen was keeping a wary eye on Michael as he did. The guy was probably about his age. Close to Jaxen's build, but Jax was lean and wirey where Michael looked thick and slow. Tony now, that guy was not so intimidating. Run into him on the street and Jax was liable to overlook him altogether. Yet he was the one operating this little circus. There was an angle to play between the two men. Jaxen only needed to figure out what it was.
"Alright, Obi-wan."
Jaxen's suspicious gaze narrowed upon Tony. "I'm on board with your little wolf-pack."
He spooned another gulp of cereal, already nearly done with the bowl, but that vicious little animal was still gnawing away on his insides. Cereal just wasn't going to cut it. They were going to have to send for real food, and Mickey didn't look like the type to spend much time in an apron.
Done, he shoved the bowl away and caught a glimpse of his healed wrists. If he hadn't just gone through it, he'd swear he was tripping. Though maybe he still was. Who knew? He thoughtfully rubbed the spot where the wounds once flamed bright red marks. Healed. That was hard evidence to argue.
The frustration with his own ignorance anchored his expression deep and thoughtful. Jaxen sensed a bad moon rising out of this, but there was a touch of excitement to the way he looked at his own skin. Prospects. Questions.
Assuming this wasn't an elaborate hallucination and short of waking up in a padded room, this whole power thing could be a very, very good thing.
But the familiar sound of a bowl landing nearby, now that was enough to rouse Jaxen upright. Whether it was filled with cereal or chocolate-covered shit, he wouldn't have cared too much at that point. He'd never been so hungry in his entire life.
Under the glare of low-drawn brows, Jax glanced between spooning mouthfuls of 'food' in his pie hole and entertaining the debbie downer drama Tony seemed to love so much. Smothered in all that whining was a point, though. Right now--and Jaxen couldn't believe he was really considering this--he was an infant in the lion's den.
The sugary puffs ground loud between his molars, but Jaxen was keeping a wary eye on Michael as he did. The guy was probably about his age. Close to Jaxen's build, but Jax was lean and wirey where Michael looked thick and slow. Tony now, that guy was not so intimidating. Run into him on the street and Jax was liable to overlook him altogether. Yet he was the one operating this little circus. There was an angle to play between the two men. Jaxen only needed to figure out what it was.
"Alright, Obi-wan."
Jaxen's suspicious gaze narrowed upon Tony. "I'm on board with your little wolf-pack."
He spooned another gulp of cereal, already nearly done with the bowl, but that vicious little animal was still gnawing away on his insides. Cereal just wasn't going to cut it. They were going to have to send for real food, and Mickey didn't look like the type to spend much time in an apron.
Done, he shoved the bowl away and caught a glimpse of his healed wrists. If he hadn't just gone through it, he'd swear he was tripping. Though maybe he still was. Who knew? He thoughtfully rubbed the spot where the wounds once flamed bright red marks. Healed. That was hard evidence to argue.
The frustration with his own ignorance anchored his expression deep and thoughtful. Jaxen sensed a bad moon rising out of this, but there was a touch of excitement to the way he looked at his own skin. Prospects. Questions.
Assuming this wasn't an elaborate hallucination and short of waking up in a padded room, this whole power thing could be a very, very good thing.