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Walk Like a Man; 5/27-(Veil, Frank)
Topic Started: Jan 27 2015, 10:14 PM (95 Views)
Veil
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She could do this. She could absolutely, positively, definitely do this. She could walk in these shoes. She could conquer them and she could walk and she could do all the things normal people did with shoes. Yes.

These sparkly silver shoes with heels that Veil still kinda thought were a little high. Okay, yeah, definitely high and she was pretty sure her foot wasn't supposed to do that while she was trying to walk. Stupid foot. Dammit. She could do this, she could do this, she could do this.

Uggh. Stupid, stupid foot. Okay, maybe she couldn't do this. How the crap had this even happened and somebody was gonna have to help her now or something. Because there were the shoes. And a dress, and her hair was doing things on her head. Not normal things. Behaving things, because some guy with a weird accent had told it to, and some makeup and jewelry even, and where was Angel when she really, really needed her?

Where were the shoe walking experts? Where?

Other than that, though, the redhead did have to sorta admit that, even if she still didn't really know how all this had happened at her yesterday (there was just a blur of random faces and being buried in a big pile of multicolored chiffon and something called a Choo, and the guy with the accent and a spray bottle; everything else was just a blank and flashes of shiny things) that it was kinda fun. In a 'Veil has been totally and inexplicably be-fashioned' way, but at least Julian had only laughed at her and not barfed at first sight or anything. That was actually kinda a compliment. Really.

It was Jules. She took what she could get and this time he totally hadn't told her she looked better clothed. Or-wait...

Well, Julian. She totally understood it, mostly, even if it didn't make any sense at all. All good. He'd even looked excellent in his own chosen attire. She'd had to tell him like six times, and then one more for good measure. Because of the Julian-ness.

Hey, that probably meant she could totally force him into service as her spotter or something. To make sure she didn't trip over her Shoes of Sparkly Heeled Doom going into the church place and embarrass herself to death at Captain America's wedding.

Captain. America's. Wedding. They were totally going to Captain America's Wedding! Awesome and yay-ness!

Which she probably shouldn't say in front of Frank when she found him in her slow, still kinda wobbly (but getting better!) journey toward his and Rachel's room. To show them the Veil Fashioning Extravaganza that was the new Action Wedding Series Limited Edition her right now. Because if she was gonna look like this? Everyone was gonna be totally forced into admiration. Whether they actually admired it or not.

But, yes, Frank. Frank and all the grumbly that she didn't really understand about Captain America's wedding. Well, other than Rachel seeming kinda excited with a side of wistful, which was a little weird even to her. Maybe he just really didn't wanna have to put on a suit?

That was okay, she was pretty sure Julian picked up any kinda slack there for everybody ever by wanting to put on all the suits.

Ha! The door. Take that, shoes, she made it all the way to the door. Where she actually did pause to knock before going ahead and opening it anyway. People were supposed to be dressed and stuff, and absolutely not still running around naked or something, right? So it should be okay.

"Ta-da!" the teenager announced, opening the door and doing her 'Here's Veil and Her All Matching, Not-From-The-Trailer-Park Ensemble' pose. Which was just her kinda standing there with her arms out in the doorway and grinning. "I have been Be-Fashioned. Fear me!"

Oh man, Frank totally was not in wedding appropriate attire. Or even Resistance appropriate attire. Just...normal person-type attire. Rachel was gonna strain something if he made them late.
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Constrictor
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Goddammit. He was cutting it close, Frank knew. Closer than he’d wanted to, when he’d first figured it through and realized this was going to be his window. Get packed, get out of there, before anyone was the wiser, that had been the plan. Thought he might have had to come up with something to get Rach out of the room and occupied with something, but something or other had come up on its own, so she was safely away. Bribing Mera into wearing some actual clothing, or trying to get Blanche into some make-up or something. Didn’t matter, as long as it took long enough to let him get gone.

Packing had taken longer than he’d thought, though. Still couldn’t get his his hands to step to like his mind knew they had to. They kept wanting to dawdle, give up halfway through, and just hang there, some piece of clothing hanging limply instead of getting tossed into the mall, non-descript gym bag he had for what he was taking.

Not much in there now, but he was nearly done at last. Couple of changes of clothing that wouldn’t stand out in anyone’s memory. Including his - few of the clothes he’d left when he couldn’t even get his hands to pick them up without remembering moments it was too damn hard to keep holding onto. Odds and ends from the info he’d been gathering, couple of sets of identities in case he needed a cover in a hurry, burner phone. That sort of thing.

He’d let the stealthsuit hanging up on the rack; too many damn trackers on that thing, half of which he’d bet he couldn’t even find if looking. So it was there like an empty shell, hanging next to the fancy suit he hadn’t found a way to avoid being picked for him. Didn’t know what else to do with either of them. One more time he glanced over at them, frowning again. Didn’t feel right to leave them there - maybe he should take them and shove them both down some convenient garbage shoot on his way out. Might buy him a little more time…

…not the first time he’d had that thought, but one more time, Frank didn’t act on it. Just turned back to his duffel, closing the zipper with a scratchy sound that felt like finality.

Did he have it all? Enough, probably. It’d have to do, and it was too damn close to waste any more time on it. Get packed, get out of here before someone noticed. Not to mention while it’d be too close to the wedding for anyone who might have cared to do a thing about it.

Didn’t think there’d be too many of those, though. Melati, maybe. Not until she needed him though, and that wasn’t too likely. He’d get in touch when he could, some way untraceable, let her know he was alright. Veil too, but she was a tough kid, and she’d find some other old washout to hang with before too long. Be better off for it, too.

And Rach…

…Frank stamped down hard on that thought, beating it away. Yeah, it’d hurt. But she’d be better off for it too. In the long run. Hell, in a pretty short run, the last few days had only shown just how damn true that was. Rogers had shown how true that was, in fifty different ways. Hadn’t even needed to say anything, either. Had it just in the way he looked, the way he’d been standing. That note of concern in his voice, asking Rach if he could speak to her privately later.

Yeah, he was getting married. Didn’t make a difference. Not with that benevolent, concerned older brother thing he wore like expensive cologne. If it wasn’t him, it’d be someone else, and Captain America and his looks had made it more than clear that he thought that was what Rach deserved. Not wasting herself on some ageing, fucked up, perpetual loser.

Well, there was something they agreed on, then. She’d be better off. Deserved a chance at having that life she’d always deserved, instead of the one she’d ended up with after all the knocks she’d had to take since she was barely more than Veil’s age. She could get that here. He loved her too damn much to hold her back from that by sticking around. It was that simple, when you stepped back and looked at it.

Tell that to his damn hands, though. They were back on the zipper, where they had no goddamn right to be. Frank caught himself before they moved to undo it again, which he sure as fuck hadn’t told them to do, took a deep breath, and was about to set them on the strap again when there was a knock at the door.

Who the hell’d be knocking now?

Moving quickly, Frank swept the bag off the bed, and booted it where it’d be outta sight from the door, hoping to get it out of the way before he growled a ‘come in’. Cept whoever the hell it was opened it right up anyway, so fuck knew what that movement was going to look like. Least it wasn’t gonna be Rach, though, with that knock. So…

“Ta-da!”

Who the hell? Frank frowned at the woman standing in the doorway, who was all made up in blue, pretty like a picture, and posing like she was auditioning for a gameshow hostess. She come to the wrong damn door? Then he caught the grin, and finally got his brain together to recognize her. Veil?

“I have been Be-Fashioned. Fear me!” Yeah, it was her. Couldn’t be anyone else, not once he figured out how to look past the earrings and sparkles, and god knew what the fuck else had gone into making her look all grown up, but it was her.

Frank cracked a grudging smile - best he could do right now, wasn’t anything to do with her - and nodded. “You look nice,” he confirmed, without anywhere near her enthusiasm, even though it was sincere, as far as it went. “Very scary.” Didn’t know why she wanted to be feared, but hell, if she did, he could try to go with it.

She did look nice, too. Someone was going to have to watch out for her tonight, make sure none of those assholes who were barely a few steps up from kiddie predators (the way he saw it) got too familiar. Drake had been too damn attentive at that thing in Wednesday, and that was even before the last teenager had dumped his ass in a way that practically the whole damn Helicarrier had ended up hearing about.

Yeah. Someone would have to watch out for that mope around. Wouldn’t be him, but someone ought to, dammit. Blanche’d figure that out on her own, right?
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Veil
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There was dramatic door opening and 'I have been Be-Fashioned, Fear me, Fear me now' posing (or arm holding out and stuff) and Veil not falling off her shoes. Also, everyone being clothed, so bonus!

Everyone, the redhead realized, being her and Frank, and no Rachel, and Constrictor doing some kinda...flail dance? Over by the bed. While he was being definitely not dressed. Well, okay, he was dressed, or she'd have been totally doing her own flail dance, but not Resistance dressed or Captain America's Wedding dressed. Just weirdly normal-person dressed.

Shouldn't he be Wedding dressed by now? He totally should and Rachel was gonna strain something with her own flailing if he made them late. Maybe that was why the flail dancing thing, but...did he look kinda weird, maybe? Or...confused?

Confused was not the hoped for reaction to Veil in a Dress and Heels. So now they were both gonna be kinda confused. See her, making confused-face, right back at him. While he finally kinda smiled, but not like he really wanted to, and nodded sorta.

Man, maybe she should've paid attention to Julian and his laughing.

“You look nice,” he confirmed, and she gave him some more confused-face. Nice? Arrrgggh! 'Nice' was totally not what this was supposed to be, or something. Enthusiasm! Or...Frank being more...Frank-like! Where was it? “Very scary.”

Okay, maybe a little better and her grin replaced the face of Veil confusion. "Totally," she agreed, managing to actually walk through the door and not fall over and even get a few steps into the room. "I have heels. It's kinda terrifying. Julian laughed at me and stuff," the teenager informed him, hitting most've the important bits of the mornings happenings. Besides being in a dress and heels.

Then it was back to a lesser version of confused face, because, "You're not dressed," she pointed out with a frown, since maybe he hadn't noticed? Or...forgot? But his suits, both of them, were right over there. She could see them. "I have a dress, I'm wearing it. You have a suit, you should be wearing it too. It'll be fun." Really. Fun. Or he could have fun grumbling about it, it was almost the same thing. "And I don't think you can go like that."

Because it was Captain America. And Captain America's Wedding. But...leaving that part out, it'd probably just cause more flail dancing and they totally didn't have time for that.
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Constrictor
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Be-fashioned? This was next to the goddamned last thing he needed right now (the last thing would have been Rach coming back, because he was a goddamned coward). But yeah, she looked nice. No harm in telling Veil that, and maybe it’d help keep her focused on herself and the big party, and not thinking about what he’d been doing. Or in telling her that she was scary, if that was what she wanted to hear.

“Totally,” she agreed, tottering into the room on those heels (was she really old enough to be wearing those?), that grin of hers plastering itself back on. Okay then - ‘scary’ was a better compliment than ‘nice’ with teenage girls now, for the record. Go figure.

Well, as long as she was pleased. And she looked it, for the most part. “I have heels. It's kinda terrifying. Julian laughed at me and stuff," the teenager informed him in the brain-to-mouth without a filter way she had, that he’d been getting used to for a few days now.

Go along with it, Payne. Act like a halfway decent excuse for a human being for a little longer, because this is not the time to break up the image she’d somehow built up of him as someone who wasn’t a loser and a no hope asshole. Plenty of time for that to happen after he was already gone, when he wouldn’t have to watch it happen on her face. That was a coward’s choice too, and he knew it, but when the hell had he ever been anything but that?

So yeah. He’d go along with it. “He’s just jealous,” Frank declared, mustering a one-sided smile as he did. Hey, who the hell knew - if that dark-haired mouthy best friend of hers really was as gay as a box of ferrets the way Veil had been claiming, then it might even be the truth for all he knew.

Shit, that grin was disappearing again though, and the confused look was back on her face. Damn. Should have given her more on that to keep her busy, or something. “You’re not dressed," she pointed out with a frown.

Frank shrugged it off with a rough jerk of his shoulders. Better if he didn’t admit that he knew what she was getting at. “I got clothes on, don’t I?” Plain, functional clothes that wouldn’t be noticed. Pair of trousers, a hoodie that was big enough to hide the bulk of the coil housing, some kind of generic baseball cap waiting for him on the dresser, covering the half-assed note he’d tried to write for Rach. He was dressed.

Yeah, it wasn’t working, just look at her. Looking right through him, not even missing a beat. “I have a dress, I'm wearing it. You have a suit, you should be wearing it too. It'll be fun.” Frank snorted, lifting one eyebrow upward as he looked away and grabbed hold of that cap, and the note too, while he was thinking about it. Fun? Yeah, that was one word for it. Not the one he’d have chosen, though. “And I don't think you can go like that,” the kid added, sounding like this was a puzzle she was working on putting together.

Too damn smart for her own good. Or at least too damn smart for his right now.

“Yeah, well,” Frank said, shrugging roughly again, and slapping the crown of the cap against his other palm for a moment before adding, “I’m not going, so it doesn’t matter anyway.”

More truth than he’d wanted to have to say ahead of time, but what the hell else was he supposed to do now? Put that monkey suit on and play along till it all went to shit anyway?
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Veil
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Heels. She had them. They were kinda terrifying. And they were on her feet, but she was conquering them. Yes she was. These were things Frank needed to know, even if he was being all...not properly wedding dressed and stuff. And a little...not-Frank-like, maybe.

Also, Julian had laughed at her and stuff. More things he needed to know.

“He’s just jealous,” Frank declared, with a half-smile thing going that was better but still not exactly right. Was her dress on backwards or something? Were her shoes on backwards? Did her hair look that weird?

Maybe she should've actually listened to Jules' laughing?

Okay, big no on the listening to the Julian mocking. If she started doing that now, he'd think there was something wrong with her or that someone had taken over her brain. Then there'd just be more flailing. Possibly flailing and TK and new hand blasters and nobody wanted that. Except maybe Julian, but he was so not allowed to blast things inside in a big flying thing.

"Nope," the teenager declared, "He has all the suits." And shirts and all things that Julians liked and could dress up in. He was probably gonna change like five times during the reception or something. Julian would be totally and happily also Be-Fashioned.

Frank, not so much. He was definitely not dressed for Captain America's Wedding. He was just dressed for...normal-ness. Which looked a little weird, Veil decided, going back to confused face. The suit was right there. She could see it. And Frank was shrugging, which was Frank-like but not helping. Not with the helping at all.

Seriously, Rachel would sprain something from her own flail dancing if he didn't get dressed like now

“I got clothes on, don’t I?” But that was just a technicality, and he knew it and she knew it and Rachel would definitely know it and there would be stressing. She wasn't sure she could stress in heels.

"Those aren't wedding approved clothes," the teen pointed out. A dress, she had one. She was wearing it. He had a suit. It was right over there. He needed to wear it. I'd be fun and there wouldn't be any freaking out (except maybe from Frank, because he was maybe suit phobic or something now). He could snort all he wanted, and lift his eyebrow and grab his baseball cap (also not wedding approved) but even she knew he couldn't go to Captain America's Wedding like that and she was from a trailer park.

Getting dressed, he should just give it up and do it now. Really.

“Yeah, well,” Frank said, shrugging roughly again, and slapping the crown of the cap against his other palm for a moment before adding, “I’m not going, so it doesn’t matter anyway.” Okay, frowning again. All the frowning again and pointing it at Frank.

Frowning at Frank and plopping down on the side of the bed, dress and all, because she wasn't sure she was up to massive frowning and conquering the shoes all at once. Hadn't reached that level yet. Getting there.

"You have to go," she told him, adding some confused to the frowning, so it wasn't lonely. "You have a suit. I'm wearing a dress," Veil pointed out again, in case he missed that. Dress. On her. Not for no reason. "Rachel has a dress." Which was maybe even more of a thing he needed to remember. "There wasn't a 'not going' option on the test." The redhead waved her hands at him in the 'now go dress, hurry' position.

So, time to get ready. No more flailing and stalling. Make with the getting ready and going to the wedding. It was a good suit. He didn't have to be afraid of it.
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Constrictor
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Not dressed? He had clothes on, didn’t he?

“Those aren't wedding approved clothes," the teen pointed out, which was probably true about as far as it went, but Frank wasn’t sure how far that was. He sure as hell wasn’t a wedding approved person, especially for the biggest damn Avenger Boy Scout of them all, and there was people telling him he was going. Once you’d got that complete fucking impossible idea crammed into your head, whatever was left over, including a goddamn hoodie, might as well not make you bat a damn eyelid.

Nope. Not buying that one, and not buying her next line of attack either. About the dress, and the suit, as if the one looking good on her was a reason for him to look like a thug who’d run through a high end store without looking in the other. Nah. Not even close to his definition of fun, and he wasn’t going to stop what he was doing for that.

He’d just get his cap, and the note that had been under it, because that was a conversation he definitely was not having with Veil if he could avoid it, and he’d listen to the opinion she was venturing on whether they’d let him in to the Captain America’s goddamn wedding in his current outfit.

That’d be a no. Which was fine with Frank Schlicting, because he wasn’t going. Didn’t matter anyway.

Ah, hell - what was she doing now? He hadn’t expected her to just take that answer as the end and get back off to wherever she needed (though it might have been easiest all around, which was probably exactly why he hadn’t expected it), so the frowning was something he’d been ready for. But she didn’t even stop there. Came right on in and plopped herself right down on the bed, like she was settling in for making this go all the way into overtime if she had to.

Goddammit.

Frank stood where he was, cap still in hand, feet feeling about as heavy as if they’d been concrete overshoed, watching her without a fuck’s clue of what the hell he was supposed to do in this case. Couldn’t march her out. Didn’t really want to just tell her to go, because he had a feeling the only way he was going to make that work would be to pull out every single stop on the asshole panel, and fuck if he could bring himself to do that to this kid.

“You have to go," she told him, looking confused on top of her frown now. Maybe because she’d just realized she was in the middle telling some fucked up, washed up, no-hope ex-crook he had to go to Captain America’s wedding. That’d be enough to confuse the hell out of anyone. ”You have a suit. I'm wearing a dress,” Veil pointed out again, while Frank watched her impassively. Repetition wasn’t going to make that any better of an argument, she knew that, right?

“Rachel has a dress.” Frank winced - just a little, but he felt it, and he knew better than to hope that the sharp-eyed little redhead wouldn’t catch it, if only because he wished that for once she would. Yeah, Rach had a dress. One that had made her look like the goddamn most beautiful girl in the world, even just in that converted excuse for a dressing room. Never seen her look like that…

…and he never would. Might as well get used to that idea, Payne. Forget about it.

“There wasn't a 'not going' option on the test.”

And now Veil was flapping her hands at him, like he was a pigeon she was shooing away from messing with her lunch. She was something else, this kid. In spite of himself, Frank cracked a smile for about half a second, before shutting it down again, and shaking his head. “Not exactly gonna be the first time I’ve failed a test,” he told her, then stuffed the cap into a pocket, and leaned down to pull the duffel bag back from underneath the bed. Made sure he had a decent grip on that before he looked back over at her, then shrugged. “It is what it is, Darling. Something came up.”
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Veil
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Nope, nope, nope.

Frank couldn't go like that. There was a suit. Right over there. Because there was a wedding. There was Captain America's Wedding, where he definitely couldn't wear hoodies an baseball caps (and these were not Frank things to wear so that was already kinda really confusing). It was a thing.

A thing he needed to be getting dressed for, because he had to go. She was wearing a dress. See her wear a dress, while sitting (because the shoes were starting to win a little and not letting that happen). Sitting and doing all the frowning. All of it. At Frank.

He could look all unimpressed if he wanted. This was her, not being impressed by that, either. She had Julian. She'd had Julian for years now and resistance to unimpressed guy-ness, she had that, too. He'd have to do way better.

Also, he probably should remember that Rachel also had a dress, and Veil was pretty sure Frank would have a harder time being unimpressed by her. Especially if she was busy freaking out that he wasn't dressed, in his suit. So, you know, he might wanna get to the wedding approved dressing.

See! Yes! Like that. That was the 'oh, now I remember that Rachel's been all weirdly excited about his all week' face. There was not a 'not going' option on the test. No. He was Frank, he should totally know that.

The heck was he being all weird and crap about this now??

Uggh. All the shooing now, since maybe he could just do all this while he got dressed. He kinda smiled but that went away pretty fast and Veil sighed and frowned some more and gave him the 'you're not cooperating and that's not okay' face. And now there was head shaking. Sigh.

Seriously. Good suit. Not scary.

“Not exactly gonna be the first time I’ve failed a test,” he told her shoving his cap into his pocket, where it was gonna get all wrinkled and then...wait, what was that? Why was there a bag thing? “It is what it is, Darling. Something came up.”

Veil frowned at the bag, then frowned back up at Frank. More confused frowning with a side of suspicious now. She did not like that bag. "What's that?" she asked, kinda suspiciously. Because it, yep, looked like a bag. But it couldn't be a bag, you didn't take bags to weddings. You took bags on trips. Going away type trips. "Because it looks like a thing you take with you when you're leaving. Which you're totally not doing." There was a wedding and clothes and...and stuff. Stuff he was supposed to be here for. "Right?"

And, nope, not buying the 'something came up' thing. At all. This was Frank and he wasn't supposed to be giving her lame excuses like that that actually meant the 'something' that came up was just not wanting to be there anymore. Yep. Heard those before. Not a Frank Thing. No.
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Options on some damned imaginary test?

For a smart kid, she’d made that one too damn easy. If Frank Payne been the kind of guy that made a habit of picking the right option on tests in anything, and especially in life, he’d never have ended up as the guy he was. Nah. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d failed at something that was important to someone he cared about. Wouldn’t even be the twentieth.

So no hesitating, as he looked away from the confused, suspicious frown that was marring the teenager’s made-up face, stuffed his cap in a pocket and retrieved the damn bag from under the bed. Shouldn’t have tried to hide it in the first place, Schlicting. Should have just ripped it all off quick as possible, maximum asshole allotment all over quickly as possible. Throw some words at her that he knew, and she probably did too, didn’t mean much of anything as a shit fucker’s excuse for an excuse.

He shouldn’t have looked back at her, but he did, and there was that damn frown. Cut a little. More than a little, maybe, except he told himself it was still better, she’d be better, than it would have been if it’d had been Rachel who’d caught him here. That made it a little easier to bear as he watched her watching his face. And the bag.

"What's that?”

Shouldn’t have been this damn hard to meet a teenage girl’s stare. He’d done worse to people before this, hadn’t he? Did worse to his own daughter when she was a hell of a lot younger than this. So he’d take this, Frank told himself, and met her eyes without flinching. Just lifting his eyebrows a hair, and waiting her out.

Didn’t take long.

“Because it looks like a thing you take with you when you're leaving. Which you're totally not doing,” she continued. “Right?” Still with that same suspicion in her look and in her voice. Like for all that ‘totally’ certainty, she knew too damn well better. She was a smart kid, after all.

“I am leaving,” Frank told her, straight out, as he swung his bag over one shoulder with slightly more force that was strictly necessary. That was the truth. She already knew that. It didn’t make him feel good about telling it to her outright, but no point in denying it. “For a little while,” he amended, and there it was. First full on lie out of his mouth. He’d been trying to avoid it, but like most of the good intentions he’d ever tried, hadn’t stuck as soon as things got hard.

Not much of a surprise. What the fuck did he expect? “Got business up north that can’t wait,” Frank added after another second, jerking his chin in a general direction that’d signify north somehow. That much was the truth, at least. Near enough to it.

Was it going to be too much to hope that he could still get away from this with just one damn lie to his tally?
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Veil
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There was looking away and cap stuffing into pocket and bag retrieving. She did not like the bag, Veil decided. At all.

So she frowned at the bag. Then she frowned at Frank. She frowned at them totally suspiciously. See this? Her suspicious, frowny face. He was getting it. And questions. Those, too. Starting with what the heck was that?

Because it couldn't actually be a bag. Bags were not for weddings. Bags were for going somewhere. And this was not a going somewhere time. This was Captain America Wedding time. And she was totally ignoring the eyebrow thing. The eyebrow, she wasn't seeing it.

Just like she was not seeing that bag. The trip type bag. That was a thing you took with you when you were leaving. And Frank was not leaving. No. Totally not leaving, because that was not a Frank thing.

That was definitely not supposed to be a Frank thing. Right? Nope. Crossing her arms now. With all the nope. See it on her face. With the frowny suspicion.

“I am leaving,” Frank told her, like there wasn't a suit and a wedding and her in a dress. And Rachel in dress. Veil narrowed her eyes. Or tried to, but it wasn't so easy. Just like it wasn't so easy to hold onto the frown anymore. He...Frank wasn't supposed to leave. He wasn't supposed to be one've the people that left. “For a little while,” he amended and, yeah, heard that before. So, kinda more suspicion, but mostly confusion again, and Veil just looked at him.

Not with the frowning, just with the arms still crossed and brow wrinkling up. Was this a thing he was making up, just so she'd let him go...leave and do whatever that wasn't staying here? Where he was supposed to be. Did Melati know he was leaving?

"Got business up north that can’t wait,” Frank added while she was busy still looking at him. Kinda wanting to believe him, but sorta kinda not.

"Not even for, like, half a day?" the redhead asked, yep, still kinda suspicious and confused and stuff, head tilting and brow still all wrinkled. Then she looked down, unfolded her arms. Plucked at some imaginary lint on her skirt for a second.

"For how long?" the teenager asked again, looking back up with her own green eyes to his gray ones. Not sure she'd believe that, either, if he told her. Wanted to. A lot. But...her dad had said that. Her mom had said it all the time, too. She usually did come back. Eventually. But that wasn't always a good thing.
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Constrictor
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First damned lie.

And hell… goddammit, did she have to look back at him like that as he did it? Like he’d just pulled some rug right out from under feet, and left her standing on something that termites had already chewed through a long time ago?

Like she couldn’t even get herself mad about it. Like a different girl than the one who’d been bubbling and bouncing around the team since Wednesday, and never letting any of them get away with a trick. This one had the same red hair and green eyes, but she just sat there, and looked at him, half-confused, and half… something else. Something that was starting to look like someone who expected the kick in the teeth so much they’d just sit there and wait for it to come.

Goddammit. No. He had to go. That wasn’t a lie, and neither was the part about business up north. That couldn’t wait.

“Not even for, like, half a day?” Her head tipped to one side, and Frank could just about believe that she could see right the way through him with that serious little frown. Couldn’t be, though. If she’d been able to do that, see the sorry-ass loser who she was actually looking at, no way she’d have bothered with staying sitting here in the room. She’d have been out the door already, and good riddance to him.

Constrictor put that thought lined up front and center in his mind, and twisted the screws it had on it a little more. Till it got him into a grimace of disgust. She didn’t need to know what it came from, long as it was there. Once he’d got that, then he got to answering that question. “So I can shuffle around like a busted thumb at the Star-Spangled Boy Scout’s big day?” Didn’t need too much help making that come out grey and cynical. Even if he’d have been selfish enough to keep hanging around, holding Rach back because he couldn’t let her go, Captain Fucking Patriot’s fucking wedding and happy ending wouldn’t have been a draw.

Hell with that. “Nah,” Frank added, trying to tell himself he didn’t see her avoiding his eyes and fussing with something invisible on that fancy spotless dress she was got up in. Clench up your guts, Schlicting, and just fucking do it. Rip the thing off. “This has waited too long already.”

Also the damned truth. Sixteen years… longer than this little girl in front of him had probably been alive, that’d been how long it had been since he’d bothered to try to speak to his own damn daughter. Nah. Who the hell’d put another afternoon on that? Not even him.

“For how long?” Veil asked then, and since he hadn’t been fast enough to look away before she’d met his eyes, Frank was stuck looking back at hers. Seeing something in there that he sure as fuck never had wanted to see in there for any reason, let alone because he’d caused it. Didn’t want to be that guy.

Except there it was, right? He was that guy. Always would be that guy. Had been sixteen years ago, and even now, while he’d been acting like he could turn over some kind of leaf, be a guy that was good for people, what’d he do? A sweet, smart kid who’d already been through hell put herself into his life for some goddamn incomprehensible reason, and it took four days - only four damn days to put that look on her face.

No fucking good for anyone. Never had been.

“I don’t know,” Frank told her, gruffly. “Long as it takes.” Some of that was probably honest, too, but what the fuck did it matter, really?

Either way, he was telling himself as he said it - over in his head as many times as he had in him - that since it had been inevitable anyway, it was better this way. Fuck it up fast, and early, so it’d be less painful in the long run. Best he could do.
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Veil
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Melati. Melati should definitely know Frank was leaving. Something made her think he probably hadn't told Komodo, though. Was he just gonna leave and not tell anybody? Was that what he'd been planning to do before she'd come in to show him how she'd been inexplicably be-fashioned?

Veil added a little more suspicion to what was already there.

Nope, didn't like this. Didn't like this even a little. This was not supposed to be a Frank thing. Leaving wasn't a Frank thing. Especially leaving right before Captain America's wedding (even if he was a little weird about Captain America and stuff) when Rachel was all dressed and being weirdly excited. In a different way, she was pretty sure, than Rachel normally got weirdly excited.

He couldn't even wait a half a day? What had happened that he had to go right now and it couldn't wait even a few hours and he had to go by himself? Or was that just a thing he was saying as an excuse so it sounded like he had a reason?

“So I can shuffle around like a busted thumb at the Star-Spangled Boy Scout’s big day?” Veil frowned some more, even if she'd thought she might've hit a frowning limit. There was room for a little more frowning and a lot more confusion. And arm folding, and skeptical looks. All the skeptical looks. “Nah,” Frank added, as the redhead directed her frown down at her dress. Lint. There was totally lint. Right there. Yes. “This has waited too long already.”

So, what? He'd always planned on leaving anyway? But...he wasn't...that wasn't supposed to be a Frank thing. It didn't seem like it should be a Frank thing. That was supposed to be a 'people who don't really give a crap about you' thing.

Shouldn't he at least give a crap about Melti or Rachel or...

"That doesn't make any sense," she pointed out, still focusing on the maybe not imaginary lint. Thumbs didn't shuffle. Thumbs had no way to shuffle, especially if they were busted. And he wasn't supposed to go for Captain America. He was supposed to go because they could go out in public without people trying to kill them and because Rachel was all weirdly excited and trying to dress 'Mera so she didn't go naked or maybe going over the 'we don't strangle people at weddings' rules again with Blanche.

Okay. So. Still all the suspicious, and all the confused, and she couldn't figure out where the heck he had to be right now, but maybe there was somewhere? Maybe? Possibly? Yeah, kinda not sure about that still, but the teenager looked back up at him anyway. He was kinda still standing there, but in a way like he was ready to run off as soon as he thought she wasn't looking or something.

How long, then? How long before he took care of this suddenly so urgent that I have to miss Captain America's Wedding thing?

“I don’t know,” Frank told her, gruffly. “Long as it takes.” Nope. Not an answer. That was definitely not an answer. That was a non-answer. See the look on her face? That was her scowly 'you are trying to give me bullshit face'. It was a good face. She'd practiced it a lot on Julian. Now he was making her pull out her Julian faces.

Seriously not okay.

"Even Julian knows better than to think I'll buy stuff like that," she pointed out, folding her arms again. "And he's the biggest boy that ever boy-ed." Uggh. So not a Frank thing. None of this was a Frank thing. It was absolutely not supposed to be a Frank thing.

"Have you even told Rachel? Or Melati?" Veil asked next, because nope, not just letting him run away with his bag and his hat and his being weird and not Frank-like. "'Cause they're gonna notice, y'know."
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Constrictor
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Nah. What was she talking about? Course this made sense. It was the only thing that did make sense, though Frank wasn’t proposing to get into that argument with Veil right now. If he’d wanted to get anywhere with it, he’d have had to start telling her a lot of things she didn’t need to have to hear, and which wouldn’t do anyone any damn good if he said them out loud.

If she even believed them, which he had a feeling she wouldn’t. Too sweet, whatever she’d been through, and whatever she thought she knew, and this wasn’t about smarts. It was about stripping through the feelings and all of that shit that you could let comfort you if you let it, and seeing the world for what it really was. Seeing people for what they really were, and he knew what he was.

That was another part of why he had to go and do what he needed up in Boston. Because he knew who he was, and what he was, and what he owed Mia had waited too damn long already. Didn’t need to wait so he could be some sorry-ass unwanted addendum on Captain America’s wedding.

But… hell. Now she wanted to know how long? How long he’d be gone? With that look in her eyes like she was already expecting the lie that was going to - that fucking had to - come out of his mouth in a second or so. Killed him a little, but he’d had plenty of time, plenty of years to get used to being a disappointment to people, so Frank just reminded himself that all this really was was one more piece of proof that whatever intentions he might make, he’d never be good.

He’d be gone as long as it took. Might sound like a load of crap, but it’d be better for Veil - better for everyone - if however long it took stretched out for as long as he could make it.

Shitty thing to say. Maybe the shittiest thing so far, so it was a little surprise - and actually, a hell of a lot more relief than he wanted to admit - that it earned him a look from the little redhead that had a whole lot more of pissed to it than the one from before that had made her look like a kicked puppy. Angry, not resigned. Probably didn’t bode well for him, but… fuck. Yeah. He’d rather see that look a thousand times than the other one, whether it made this argument harder to get out of or not.

“Even Julian knows better than to think I'll buy stuff like that," she pointed out, folding her arms again. "And he's the biggest boy that ever boy-ed.”

Frank lifted an eyebrow, but kept his damn mouth closed. Not touching that one. Not touching it with a thirty-foot coil. Didn’t matter though. He didn’t need her to buy it, he just needed…

…to have been out of here a minute ago. Two maybe, that might have been safer.

But there ought to still be enough of a window to get out of here before Rach got back, and that was all he needed. And since he knew better (now, though it had taken a day or two) than to let Veil suck him into one of those conversations she could keep going forever like some kind of perpetual conversation machine, he could still do this. He’d just…

“Have you even told Rachel? Or Melati?" Veil asked next, before he’d pulled his shit and his thoughts together enough to get something to cut her off and let him get past and out of the room. “‘Cause they're gonna notice, y’know.”

Dammit. Frank thought quickly, or maybe quickly decided to give up thinking entirely for the few seconds he needed to get through this. No regrets, no guilt, no giving himself away - he’d have plenty of time to drown himself in that later, once he’d done what he needed to. Right now, all he needed to do was lie, and that was exactly what he went and did. “Yeah, Rach and I have talked it over,” he told the teenager, without hesitating. Always had been a decent liar when he had to be, and here was a time when he did need it. “She’s good with it.”

Fucking lie. Damned fucking lie, even though it shouldn’t have been. Hell knew she ought to be good with it, because it sure as fuck was the thing that’d be better for her in the long run.

He hated it, almost as much as he hated himself. Wanted it to be different, wanted to be able to be the guy that she deserved. But he wasn’t, and he never had been, so… yeah. He’d hate himself for this, but that didn’t make it the wrong choice. Even if it meant looking a kid who didn’t deserve it right in the eye and straight out lying.

If he thought about that any longer though, it was going to get a whole goddamn lot harder to keep it all together and sell it though, so Frank shook his head briskly, and shouldered his bag, taking a step toward the door, cocking his head toward Veil in a motion designed to encourage her to start moving that way herself. Case closed, he told himself, conversation over, and though he was probably being optimistic about his chances here, he had to throw the gambit out there anyway.

“Don’t you have to get wrangling that boy of yours again?”

Worth a shot.
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Uggh. Bullshit. She was calling bullshit. Frank was not supposed to be making with the bullshit. Also not a Frank thing. Or she hadn't through it was a Frank thing. That any've this was a Frank thing.

Yet, here it was. Kinda made her wonder...

Was this what everybody just did? Even when you thought they wouldn't? They just...left? Or, even if they didn't actually leave, they might as well be gone for all they cared? Because if that was how it was gonna work? It really, really sucked all of the sucking things ever.

All of them, and nope, not going with the bullshit of 'however long it takes'. That was just a thing you said when you either didn't know what to say or you were trying to get somebody to stop asking. Or both. Julian. Even Julian knew better than to think she'd believe that kinda crap. Julian, the biggest boy who'd ever boy-ed, knew better than that and also? Not impressed with the eyebrow lifting. Frank knew what she was talking about. Yep. He did.

He knew and she wasn't gonna let him get away with...this. This bag and hat and trying to leave thing. Did Rachel even know he was doing this? Rachel, who was all be-fashioned, too. And Melati. Probably she didn't know, either, and it wasn't like they weren't gonna notice. There would be no Frank and no Frank in a suit and no Frank at the wedding and yep. They'd notice. They'd notice a lot.

“Yeah, Rach and I have talked it over,” he told her and Veil's eyes narrowed again. Was that a true thing? He said it like it was a true thing, but ... “She’s good with it.” But that? Didn't sound like a true thing. Or a Rachel thing.

Sigh. Again, she made with the suspicious face, because he was making all the suspicious bells ring in her head, even if she still couldn't tell for sure if that was true. It could be true? Maybe? If it was something really important?

Would that stop Rachel from all the flailing that he was gonna miss Captain America's Wedding if it was something really important?

Which she was thinking about that, Frank was doing headshaking and putting of the bag on his shoulder and trying to go toward the door. And trying to get her through the door by shooing her with his head. Yeah, nope. Nope to that, too.

“Don’t you have to get wrangling that boy of yours again?” Sigh. Rolling her eyes, she was doing it. He'd met Julian. What about Jules said 'I want people to help dress me'? Well, girl-type people, anyway. He'd probably be good with Wonder Man helping him dress.

"Hellion, totally able to dress himself since before puberty. Really," the teenager informed him, shaking her own head at him and his Frank-ness. "You, kinda not sure about right now." What with the trying to actually leave right before a wedding and stuff and with a perfectly good suit right there.

Veil kinda looked at him, arms folded again, while the second hand on the clock moved a few ticks. Then she asked, "Can I go?" almost to her own surprise. Sometimes the words that came outta her mouth did that. It was a thing. "Where ever you're going," she added, still watching him. "You shouldn't go by yourself."

Since he was kinda definitely looking like he was going. He had that stubborn thing like Julian got when he was being...all guy-like. And if it was that important, she could be useful and stuff. Plus, nobody should be by themselves when they didn't have to be.
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Constrictor
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Dammit. It was a good lie, he knew it was. Well, it was a fucked up shit of a damned lie, but it was one that ought to have been good. Creditable, believable, whatever you wanted to call it. Except that it hadn’t done a damn thing to move that suspicious look off Veil’s face. The opposite, if anything.

The hell had she seen in her life that at fifteen, she could see through that?

Well, he’d seen the inside of at least one Camp, so he could probably guess some, if he’d wanted to think about it. Frank didn’t, though. Wouldn’t help anyone if he didn’t do what he needed to do, and thinking about what this kid, the one sitting in front of him, who could apparently see through him, but didn’t want to get away from it (how fucked up did that make her? Someone had better get Samson on it). She wasn’t buying.

Faced with that, Frank did the only thing he could do - he committed. Selling the lie like there’d never been anything more true in the world. Not by arguing, or by letting her force more elaborate details that’d fall apart under a little scrutiny, because if you learned how to be a liar, you learned not to do that. Nah, he’d commit by moving on, ignoring the doubt in her eyes like it had never been there.

Asshole’s move, sure as hell it was, but it usually worked. He’d just head for the door, and get her moving (that part didn’t work right off, but then Frank hadn’t been harboring much hope that it would, either), and throw a diversion out there about that went back to the best friend of hers. She kept mentioning him enough - shouldn’t she be away wrangling him to do something right now?

That didn’t work either though. ”Hellion, totally able to dress himself since before puberty. Really," the teenager informed him, shaking her own head. "You, kinda not sure about right now.”

“I’ve been doing it a hell of a lot longer than him,” Frank told her, purposely ignoring the implication she was throwing about the suit he wasn’t wearing right now.

He’d been practicing changing the conversation away from things he’d rather not talk about a whole lot longer than she had too - hell, he’d been doing it longer than she’d been alive - so he didn’t waste time volleying that attempt at a subject switch right back to her and Hellion with a lift of his eyebrows. “You telling me in this place, with all these people, that kid can’t find himself something to get into trouble with?”

Seemed like a good question. One that might hopefully turn the screws a little, remind her about some chaos that wasn’t his that she might just as easily feel like she needed to poke that little button nose in. Except she was just standing there, with her arms folded, looking at him. Eating up seconds that were starting to cut into ones he knew he wasn’t going to be able to spare.

Better not engage. He’d just - fuck, yeah, couldn’t walk out with that note. He might be an asshole, and an inveterate loser, and a fucking waste of space too, but he couldn’t walk out without even leaving a note for her. Thinking of that, Frank was midway through shifting the cap where he’d left it so he could get it in his hand when the teenager spoke again.

“Can I go?”

The question made him start, fumbling his hand and nearly scrunching the note for a moment before he caught himself. After that, Frank stopped, and made himself look back up.

“Where ever you're going," she added, still watching him. "You shouldn't go by yourself.”

Goddamn, thought Frank Payne, from behind the most impassive expression he could muster. Goddammn. Could he tell her what it was he was doing? No. No, fuck, not if he could do anything to help it. He shook his head, flatly denying both that thought and her statement. “That’s exactly how I should go.” Harsh, and he didn’t soften it in how he said it, but… fuck, it was better this way, wasn’t it? It would be. Something like that. And if it wasn’t, well didn’t that still prove his fucking point that he was no good to any of them?

“It’s something I need to do, and it won’t go any easier for having an audience,” he added, taking the (now slightly crumpled) note out from the cap. Looked around a second, then set it - with more care than he’d shown for the words or anything else he’d done in the last two minutes - on the desk thing near the door that was the closest available flat surface, arranged so Rachel’s name would still be visible on the outside of the folded note for anyone who looked closely.
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Veil
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Nope. Not buying it. Julian could totally dress himself without her helping, even with no hands (except he had the bionic ones from the Maker now, so that wasn't working so much as it had a few days ago). He had all the TK.

Frank, not making so much with the able to dress himself so far. Since his suit and his uniform were still over there and not on him and he was trying to leave.

“I’ve been doing it a hell of a lot longer than him,” Frank told her and now there was all the scowling again, to go with the suspicion. And Veil pointedly looking at what he was wearing, which was not being dressed for what he should be dressed for and he knew that. And he was being totally not like Frank and she was not okay with that.

“You telling me in this place, with all these people, that kid can’t find himself something to get into trouble with?” That was Frank next thing of trying to distract her or whatever and Veil just sighed. And looked at him some more.

"He likes being in trouble. It's a Julian thing. He's good at it. Not his mom," she pointed out. And if he managed to get himself into more trouble than he wanted, well, he could deal until she got back to him. Busy now. Busy trying to figure out if the suspicion bells still going off in her head might still be right when that sounded like the truth. That it was something important he had to go to now, instead of Captain America's Wedding. With Rachel, who was already dressed and stuff and would probably make with all the flailing, whether he'd talked to her about it already or not.

Couldn't decide and she was trying, while ignoring Frank trying to shoo her outta the room. Yep, ignoring that because he didn't get to just run off. Not. Okay. And...if he had to go, shouldn't he take somebody with her?

She could go. Where ever it was he was going. She could change really fast and go, too, because nobody should have to go deal with things (whatever things, especially important things) alone if they didn't have to.

And he didn't have to. He was Frank, he was supposed to know that.

Or not, because he was shaking his head and looking all...not knowing. Or maybe just not caring. “That’s exactly how I should go.” And she looked at him and tried to frown more and kept her arms crossed. What the heck was wrong with him? This wasn't funny and it wasn't okay and she'd thought...

Well, whatever. Didn't matter. Obviously.

“It’s something I need to do, and it won’t go any easier for having an audience,” he added and...yeah. Okay. The teenager nodded a little, looked down at the carpet, then looked back up again to see some kinda note thing on the desk. She squinted at it. Enough to figure out it was for Rachel. Why was he leaving notes if he'd already talked to her about it, like he said?

Swinging green eyes back his way, she...yeah. Okay. She got it. She didn't have mist for brains, at least, so...

"I don't like that you're leaving," she told him, looking up at his face. Just saying it flat out, so he couldn't say nobody had told him that or something. "And I don't want you to and I don't think you should, and I don't care why or if you don't wanna tell me. I just think you're really wrong."

And it wouldn't matter, because it never did with most people, but it was a thing she needed to say. Maybe he would come back, but if he didn't, well, she'd at least got to say it for once.
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