Make Me Strong

Kada

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Broen was not at all looking forward to this. He had a knot in his stomach worse than anything and he felt like at any minute he was going to vomit and pass out. He didn't want to do this, but he knew he didn't have a lot of choice. Jude was with him, at least. That was one point of contact. What was that thing therapists talked about? Sensory anchors? One of those.

His hand shook a bit as he sent the text. Fredrick would never meet them at his apartment, that was for sure. But somewhere public with a lot of potential witnesses? He just might. The text was simple enough.

I'm ready to talk. Cafe on corner of Angolin and Oak.

He sat at the table outside, his vision partially obscured by his hair. All he had to do was not vomit. All he had to do was not snap. He looked at Jude and smiled weakly. He didn't think he was going to make it.

@Romi
 

Romi

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Jude was doing what he could to keep Broen from simply popping out of existence. He'd already ordered (Broen hadn't seemed to even notice the poor waiter), sliding a glass of water in front of Broen. When he didn't respond to that, he'd gone right ahead and nudged it up against his hand, looking for... for something. Some reaction.

He couldn't even imagine how bad it was.

Frederick, on the other hand, was not quite as bad as Broen, but still in a state. He'd been right about Zoraida. And as he approached the cafe, spotting Jude in the distance, his lips curled.

"I should have known you'd be here, putting your nose in," Frederick said, heading right over to the table and taking a seat without any sort of formality. "The apple's still attached to the tree in this case."

But there were signs he wasn't doing quite as well as he might have otherwise, because he dug around in his pocket, pulling out a shitty cigarette and lighting it himself. He needed the nicotine. Even in public...

There was no telling with the two of them working together.
 

Kada

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Broen looked at the glass of water, finally hooking a finger around it and dragging it closer to him. Luckily there was a straw so he didn't have to pick it up. It as cold and refreshing, but the dryness in his throat wasn't from nothing to drink.

The voice snapped him out of it, made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. And the sound of the lighter's striker made him cover the same spot with his hand, his scars suddenly aching. He didn't look at Fredrick, doing everything he could to keep himself from shaking.

His voice was quiet, barely a whisper. Barely anything, really. "Didn't think you'd show. Angelo is my friend... I asked him to come..."
 

Romi

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For Jude, it was fucking surreal watching Broen being so afraid. Like he was a totally different person.

Like he was ten years old all over again.

Jude knew what it meant when he touched the back of his neck, and he tried to intervene as much as he could. If he left it just to Broen...

"The current situation isn't good for either of you," Jude said as Frederick let out a snort at the mention of Angelo being a 'friend'. "So we should talk things out here, in a nice public place, and maybe make things a bit less... awful."

Frederick leaned back in his seat, taking a long drag off his cigarette.

"And why should I believe I single thing he's going to say, exactly? Or your word, for the matter."
 

Kada

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Broen clenched his fist and stared at the table harder. It'd be so easy to escape. Just fall into his pocket dimension and fucking leave. But Jude was right. The fuckin nerd was always right. He looked up, focusing on Jude and keeping Fredrick out of sight with the hair over his eye.

"Don't insult him. You might not give a shit about me, but Angelo was a hero back home. You at least have to respect him for that. Going out with no powers. No high tech power armor."

It was easier to speak when he was defending someone else. Going to someone else's aid. Not focusing on himself and his relationship to Fredrick.
 

Romi

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Jude would have been lying if he said it didn't bother him a bit hearing one of his literal, honest to god childhood heroes talking shit about him, but he was trying to get over it. He wasn't the man Jude thought he was. That man wouldn't have said anything.

"He was," Frederick said, "and all he was doing was trying to balance out the messes his father made. Are you going to tell me he never let his relationship with his father effect his heroing?"

Jude winced, and that said it all. Because he absolutely had. Multiple times. He'd put his dad in front of things, and people had gotten hurt, and...

He pushed the htought away.

"We're not here to talk about me," Jude said. "We're here to talk about the two of you, and how we can handle this going forward. There's no situation that ends with either of you getting exactly what you wan-"

"And why is that?" Frederick interrupted, taking another drag. "I don't think you even know what I want."
 

Kada

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Broen was white knuckled at this point, tipping back and forth between fear and rage. What right did he have to tell anyone that their being a hero wasn't good enough? What right did he have?

"Then what? What the fuck do you even want. What have you ever fucking wanted? Because all I ever wanted as a kid was the fucking choice of whether I wanted to be a goddamn hero or not. And I had to get fucking disowned to get it."
 

Romi

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Frederick didn't flinch when Broen went off. Jude did though, cringing at the tirade and glancing briefly around. A few people had glanced over. Not many though. Few people cared, and people yelling on Manta Carlos was hardly unusual.

"I wanted someone to carry on the family legacy," Frederick said, tapping his ashes away. "It was something bigger than I was. Bigger than any one person. And now it's dead. The line's over. Completely and utterly gone, all because you spat on the family name and rejected it outright."

Jude got a response almost immediately.

"That was his choice," Jude said. "He's allowed to make his own choices."

Frederick let out a small, mirthless laugh.

"His choice to run off and become a fucking criminal."
 

Kada

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He wanted to slam his hands on the table and shout fuck the legacy at the top of his lungs. But he kept focused on Jude. What would Jude say? That that wouldn't accomolacc anything. So he took a long second to exhale.

"You don't know a damn thing about me, old man. It wasn't my choice to be a fucking criminal. You kicked me out. You disowned me. And because I had to get a job to pay for my shitty little apartment, I got picked up by those creepy fucking shadow monsters for 'skippng class'."
 

Romi

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"Of course I don't," Frederick said with a wave of his hand. "Why would I know anything about you? You always hid away and refused to tell me anything."

Jude mumbled something that sounded a lot like for good reason, and Frederick shot him a look.

"What Broen is trying to say is literal. He didn't become a villain to start. He had a normal job, and then he was picked up by Abernathy Academy."

There was a moment's pause as Frederick took another long drag of the shitty little cigarette before he finally mashed the end into the ashtray.

"And that made him evil, right? Only became a villain because of that? So why are you with him, if you're such a hero yourself?"
 
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