Log:Lap Insecurity

The Madness of David Flyte 2020/01/27 	 Radical|Connor Grimm

7

Continued from the events in Log:Lapse in Security

Grimm will get a second text from Connor. Much later. About 1 AM. "One last thing, while I think of it. Loudly declaring to the room that someone 'isn't your type' is like a punch to the gut. Next time, go with something like 'I'm not interested in him.' At the very least, it wouldn't have made me feel like a ing pariah of some kind." Odds are good that he's been drinking.

The message shows as being read shortly after being sent. Grimm stares at it, truly puzzled by the message from a person who is now solely her professor. It's about ten minutes, and then there's a response. <>

A response comes back, "No. Not interested. Don't get the wrong idea. But being called out like that in front of others...is humiliating. Having someone effectively state that they look at me as unattractive...yeah, humiliating. Please don't do that again." Even drunk, he's polite. More frank, but polite.

Grimm stares at the text and rubs the back of her head. She feels a little guilty and texts back. << I'm sorry. I was humiliated by Amelia asking me to sit on my professor's lap in front of everyone. It was a knee-jerk reaction. I didn't say you were unattractive, and I wasn't intending to humiliate you. You're good looking.>> She hits send, then a moment later, she screws up her face at how that must sound. << I mean, I was just trying to shut things down before assumptions got made. I didn't think or realize it would've hurt you or be taken that way. >>

Connor responds back. It's close to 1:30 now. "Amelia was out of line. And I tried to call her on it. I'm sorry if I didn't sound strong enough. I'm not str" (It does cut off there, like he hit 'send' too soon) There's a couple minutes, and then another, "I'm sorry. You get the wrong impression about me. I just wanted to help. I'm sorry. I somehow screw things up."

Grimm stares at the message a bit longer, finishing her drink at the industrial night club's bar. Maybe she shouldn't have started replying while intoxicated, but it seems her professor's doing the same, though she imagines in some musty study. Another reason she had worded him as not being her type. She sets the drink on the bar, about to order another when she sees the second message. Slowing down, she says to the bartender, "I'd like to close out my tab." While she waits, she texts back. <>

Connor responds back, "Home." That's it. Nothing else.

Grimm signs her bill and pockets her card. <>

It takes a couple of minutes, but there's a response back with his address. It's also in Green Acres. A couple minute drive from Randal's place. And with only a little research online with a map, it's clear the place is smaller and newer than Randal's home.

Grimm orders another drink. She's already used her powers the past few days due to emergency cases. What the hell. She teleports her way to Green acres, at least the part she's familiar with. She uses her GPS to find her way from there, part walking, part teleporting. A few minutes later, there's a knock on the door. It's maybe 1:40 to 1:45 am.

Connor comes to the door, glass in hand. Some brown liquid in it, as well as some ice. He opens the door and pauses. "C'mon in. It's cold out there. Not that I can feel it right now, but I can tell." His shirt is untucked, and the top button undone.

Grimm hasn't seen Connor not put together before. "Thanks," she says quietly, stepping in and trying to be polite. She's wearing the same she was earlier, but her makeup is defintely more for clubbing. Smokey eye with a cat-eye liner, hair made more rocker-chic. The left side is pinned back, and the right brushed over and wavy, making a faux-side cut.

Connor shuts the door and heads back to where he was sitting in the living room. His house kind of reminds Grimm of Randal's place, except it clearly is several decades newer. There's a sense of history to the place, the decor...the bookshelves, and the like. But at the same time there's something newer underlying things. There's a telescope on a tripod in a corner, and he has some music playing. Some older rock music. Heavy on guitar, with some background...tr umpet?

Grimm's a bit surprised by the rock music. It's not what she expected him to be into. She follows along to the living room, looking around. Aside from the music, the rest is about as expected, except for the newer architecture. She takes a breath and tries to sound sincere. "Look, I really wasn't trying to insult your looks. I handled that badly. I've never had someone suggest I sit in my professor's lap. It felt like she was implying you and I had been violating the whole Professor/student dynamic."

Connor nods. "Oh, I know. I understand that. It wash...inappropriate. Especially with Moonshadow in the room, who basically did just that to me. Hit on me while she was my shtudent." He sighs and takes a sip of his drink before setting it down on a coaster on the table next to his chair. Because of course he uses coasters. "There are times where..." He then corrects himself. "...when I don't feel adequate. Even with now being better at magic than I was. I'm relearning. It's like...having to learn to drive a stick shift when you already know how to ing drive. You have to ing start over."

Gabrielle's cheeks flush. "That's even worse...she said that in front of someone else who would rather do that? Great. Now that person probably hates me or is jealous or..." she starts to spiral in panic a bit, then stops herself and takes a breath. "Whatever beef I have, I'm not trying to hurt your job or personal life. And I way overcorrected without even thinking it'd be hurting you personally."

She struggles to try and explain the whys without potentially making it worse. She takes a few moments to think on that, and focus on his frustration. "You're having to learn another language essentially. A complex one. It doesn't make you inadequate."

Connor takes a deep breath. "I think that's just part of my frustration. It adds to everything else. Everything that I do seems to get screwed up eventually." He then takes a look at Grimm with his magic sight, to confirm what he's thinking.

The cracks in her aura are more wide spread now, dark, negative energy seeping out.

Grimm looks at Connor incredulously. "What? That's BS."

She leans down to get eye-level with him and up close, hands resting on the ends of the armrests to stabilize herself. Because drinking. "You were the Cartesian. You fought against the Anarch. You gave up those powers to do what was right rather than what you were told to do. You then figured out how to make a device to -fold space-, and started to get your magic back. And then...you helped save people who got turned into bugs when no one else could!"

As she tries to pour out some drunken positivity, the flow of energy from the cracks begins to slow.

Connor blinks as he listens to Grimm, and he sees the change. "Wait. That's...odd." He takes a deep breath and looks at her some more. "I was thinking that I had failed to keep that rift in you from spreading. And it's strong now. I can see it. But as you were speaking, it...started to close?"

Grimm blinks as he says something's odd, sitting upright suddenly thinking something was wrong or off. The closing progress ceases and remains. "Huh..?"

Connor's eyes narrow. "I think I see the pattern. Even drunk. I'm not sure about hte cause and effect...but when you were...positive, trying to cheer me up, it was improving. I bet when you lashed out, it got worsh." He reaches over and downs the rest of his drink, and then he sets it down again. "I don't know if Randal was right about you having to take a break. But...I suspect...negative emotions make it worse." He takes a deep breath and he looks sad, like he knows that particular piece of knowledge won't do anything.

Grimm thinks over what he has to say, rubbing the back of her head. "So...negative emotions feed whatever's wrong with me? That's...great," she says with a sigh. "Maybe Randal was right. I...I've been using my powers lately. I've had to."

After admitting to what he already knows or suspects, she goes on, "What's with the sad look and the drinking, by the way? I never expected that from you..."

Connor smiles slightly. "Why? Think I'm a machine?" He chuckles quietly. "I have...I feel...like I've failed. I saw how you lashed out today. Everything that had come before...what I had done for you...didn't matter. You assumed the worst. You assumed that I wanted something. That I was leveraging things. I'm afraid." He pauses, and takes another deep breath. "I'm afraid I've failed. And that you're going to fall to darkness, and I'll have failed to stop that from happening."

Grimm stares at him in muted shock at his sense of responsibility. "I..." she starts, but is at a loss for words for the moment. His last words weigh heavily on her. "It's not your job to save me," she finally says, quietly. Not in a mean way. As if trying to assure him it wouldn't be his fault.

Connor smiles and laughs again, though there's a bitter note to it. "It is. Would you not do the same for some one you care about? And before you scoff, I do care about you. As a friend. Even though you keep pushing me away like I'm a leper."

"I...I pushed you away because I thought..." Gabrielle rubs her face, not sure what to say. "Because I thought Amelia believed something inappropriate was going on. That it was going to mess up things with your job. That she was going to use it to manipulate me..."

Connor points at Grimm, "You shaid that I was leveraging what I had done for you. I know you did. I remember. Maybe not so clearly right now, but I remmeber."

Connor snorts, "You think I'm her pawn."

Grimm looks like she's a little confused. Maybe it's the effects of the cracks. "I figured you had told her all about my business. Also knowing her, I suspect she didn't actually need me to help with warding her place. It was just an excuse."

"I never called you her pawn," Grimm says evasively.

Connor shakes his head, "No...you didn't say it. But you think it. Every time you see me with her, you assume that I'm doing her bidding. Hell...when I'm even doing somethign related, like when I met you in the park with Moonshadow, you implied it. And you thought I told her all of your business. Which I hadn't, thankyouverymuch."

"Really. You're going to act like meeting me in the park with Moonshadow, which Amelia arranged, wasn't you carrying out her business?" Grimm frowns. "So you told her -some- of my business? Because I still want to know where the hell that lap comment came from. She has -never- made that sort of comment to me before."

Connor sighs. "I don't know where the that comment came from. She didn't realize you were in my classes. I think she was trying to lighten the mood. Because you know...you usually get angry around her. As for the meeting, sure I was meeting you because she asked me to, but you DO know you referred to me as something like her minion that time." He rubs his chin, "Where DID I get that idea of you thinking I'm her pawn? Oh yeah...you imply all the < bleep >ing time."

"She asked me to meet her at the park for something important and expected me to just come. And like I always used to, I did. And I waited. And what does she do? Text me to tell me it's off? No, she leaves me to wait until you two come to tell me my presence is no longer required," Gabrielle grits her teeth. The cracks begin to grow and spread again. "Tell me you don't look the other way when she does things you know are wrong. TELL me she helps you all the time with your issues instead of you getting summoned to that tower of hers. Tell me she doesn't use you just like she's always using me!" The cracks fracture and spread in a spiderweb-like pattern akin to glass.

Connor says with complete seriousness, "She helped save my grandmother from death. She helped me learn magic again when I lost the power of the Cartesian. She even encouraged me to keep practicing and learning. She believed I could do it when I didn't believe in myself."

Connor sighs, "But that won't convince you. Because it didn't last time. You already knew at least part of that."

Connor takes a deep breath, "As for whether or not I look the other way when I see her do something I know is wrong...no. I give her my opinion. And I do not hold back in doing so." He smirks. "It doesn't even require alcohol for me to be frank about it."

"Sounds more like she was grooming you. Adding a former Cartesian to her collection," Grimm retorts. "I'm not even convince she didn't cause the issue with your grandma with her time traveling interference. You had to close a loop you already created." Of course, Grimm doesn't know enough about time travel theory.

A new, large crack appears, cutting right through Grimm's aura. She physically winces. She felt something. Something is terribly wrong. She takes a step back, hand over her abdomen at the center of the largest fissure.

Connor is about to retort, but he gets up to his feet, unsteadily. "I saw what you felt. It's a new fissure. Please...stop. Think about...anything nice you can think of. Please...anything. How about...Randal? He's nice. Never hurt you. You can't possibly think anything negative about him. Please..."

Grimm takes another step back. She tries to stop. "It's no use. Amelia was right. Sympathetic, understanding, helpful...I'm none of those things..." she utters in sad realization. Another deep crack appears and she doubles over, grunting in pain.

She has to catch her breath. "Randal...?" That's right. He never hurt her. He even made her eggs and bacon. Was always pleasant and nice. The cracks stay still for the moment.

Connor takes a breath and nods. "Randal's a nice guy. He likes you, too. Considers you like a relative, to be honest."

"A relative...? Why would he?" Grimm asks weakly. She tries to focus on the people she trusts. Malcolm. Frankie. Jack...

The cracks begin to shrink a little, some of the tiny ones sealing up slowly.

Connor smiles, "He never had kids. The closest was me, his nephew. Please...just...keep focusing on good thoughts. You came here to try to cheer me up. And...I'm sorry I reacted bitterly. I do appreciate it. You didn't need to come here. But you did. To check on me."

"And I just messed it up," Grimm utters in despair. "Jack was right. It's me. It's always been me..."

Connor places a hand on her shoulder, gently. "Please...stay with me. Focus on good thoughts. Christmas. Warmth. Being with someone you love."

Grimm closes her eyes and tries to focus on happy thoughts. There's so few to hold onto. There are a few shining spots, though, and she holds onto them as he coaches her through it. Gradually, the cracks begin to shrink again, and whatever discomfort or pain Grimm is feeling eases away from her features. She sniffs once, and wipes at her eyes with the back of her sleeve and takes a breath. While the cracks have shrunk in width again, the large crack--now narrowed and thin--still remains.

Connor takes a deep breath, "May I give you a hug? I think you could use one."

Grimm hesitates at first. Mutely, she nods.

Connor gives Grimm a hug, trying to be as comforting as possible.

Grimm is stiff and tense at first. Her head dips down and her body sags into the hug as she lets go of the anger inside. "I'm...I'm sorry..." she murmurs meekly.

Connor holds her close, "I'm sorry too. And it's okay. I forgive you."

"Thank you," Gabrielle says, sniffling quietly.

Connor smiles, "You're welcome. I really do care. Don't forget that." He takes another deep breath. "I'm umm...sorry I got drunk and lashed out at you."

"I'll try." Gabrielle starts to straighten up, wiping at her eyes some more. "I'm sorry I made you feel bad saying you weren't my type. But..." she motions to herself up and down, and then to him. "Come on. We're so different. It'd be as likely as me being your type. It had nothing to do with your looks."

Connor has some tears as well. Clearly he was starting to panic a bit when he saw her double over in pain. "I know. Just..." He chuckles, "Let's talk about that another time. It's okay."

Grimm nods in agreement. She looks surprised by his tears and reaches out to wipe them away out of instinct, but hesitates, not sure of it's okay. "I...need a drink. You?" she offers a weak smile.

Connor smiles. "I'm...not sure more alcohol will help...but sure." He gets back up and takes another look at her, seeing what her status is.

The cracks are back to where they were in width and size, but there are a few new ones. Notably the big one through her core. "Yeah, well. So long as we don't start texting each other," she says, smiling though seeming tired as she lightly brushes away a few of his tears with her thumb. She's actually surprised that they're there. Proof that he is what he says he is, even when the shadows lie to her. She has to hang on to this and remember.

Connor bites his lip. "I think...the fissures are back to normal, more or less. But you have a few new ones. Due to what happened today, I think. And tonight. And one of those is a big one. Where you felt the pain. Please...let me get the harness for you so it'll at least ease the pressure for you tonight. Then we can drink and talk for a bit longer. How does that sound?"

Grimm tries to remain calm and hold on to positive thoughts. "Okay. That sounds good," she agrees. "It doesn't hurt anymore," she offers to reassure him.

Connor nods. "It's there though. And we'll need a more permanent solution." He gets up and grabs the harness which was hanging in the closet. He comes back over and helps her put it on...and turns it on. "I know it's just...a little respite, but...you'll need rest."

Next: Log:What's Eating Gabrielle Grimm?