I'm Scott Summers and yeah I always need to wear these sunglasses, thanks for asking.
My Future Plans
Going back home.
My Talents
A lot of things.
Favorite Books, Movies, Music, and Food
Stuff that doesn't suck.
My Ideal Partner
...
Height
5'8"
Body Type
Lean, athletic build
Smokes
No
Drinks
No (mostly because underage)
Drugs
No
Sign
Libra
Education
Xavier's Institute
Occupation
Student
Income
None
Children
No
Pets
No
Hobbies
Normal things
[For what it's worth, Wriothesley doesn't seem to falter in anyway to betray how he's really feeling. He has long since learned how to hide his injuries like a wounded animal trying to survive. He does inwardly curse though. He knew that Scott was far more perceptive than one would think a teenager might be. He was a perceptive teenager too though and that's why he knew better than to underestimate.]
Hmm? What makes you think something is wrong? Aren't arcades supposed to be fun?
[He rests one hand on his hip with an eyebrow raised.]
I'm here to have a little fun just like anyone else.
[How does he explain that he can just tell? That his smile from before was off and he really only knows that because he's grown attached to Wriothesley ever since they met? That's like, way too much!! Though Scott doesn't let himself be distracted or led to a different topic, the teen still standing there with that small worried frown as he looks at him.
Yeah, he's really not thinking too much about playing a game right now, despite the sounds of the arcade beeping around them.]
You're here to distract yourself from something, aren't you? ...What happened?
[He's always been just a little more preceptive, even back home and despite his attitude. Aware of how the other mutants felt cooped up, how they just wanted to feel normal, and that observational trait has only grown since coming here.]
[Ah, ah. Scott really isn't going to budge is he? It isn't like Wriothesley wasn't aware. He knew that his friends weren't going to so easily be fooled and he knew that his mask was far from perfect. After all, he never been in this situation before. He didn't know how to navigate it.
Still, he would have liked to fall into a delusion for just a short while before having to go back to his empty suite.
His smile stays, but it no longer tries to be a smile. It's something bittersweet.] I thought those glasses of yours was supposed to make it harder to see. [He's teasing.]
I just don't want to go back to an empty suite right now. [Bastard is still being vague, of course.]
[Some staring. And silence from the teenager, Scott for once not rising to the bait as he observes the older man while putting pieces together. Something clearly happened and he's not sick like last time, so it's something else-- an emotional wound? Luckily for him, he really doesn't have to wait long, as that admittance leaves Wriothesley and in those few words, he understands it all.
Kizuna is gone.
He's lucky that he managed to talk to Kizuna and know about their relationship before all this, and Scott doesn't hide how he frowns, something concerned tugging down at him.]
[Hearing it from someone else stings the hardest, he has decided. It forces a reality down onto even the most delusional dream; forcing him to acknowledge an ugly truth he had been staring passed because he simply didn't want to process the pain it would bring. It bring finality. It rings in reality.
Kizuna is gone.]
You make it sound like he died. [And maybe it might as well be just that. Honestly, maybe he would have preferred it that way. Death doesn't have finality here, given that some guests were spirits and it sounds like it is far from permanent, but it might have been better if Kizuna had died because Kizuna being a statue brings an assortment of uncertainty. Uncertainty breeds discourse in his already aching heart.
Love is a word he has never fully grasped properly because his life had been devoid of it for so long. He knew the word in definition and theory and had even learned certain layers of it. Heartbreak for someone whom he had wanted to entwine his fate with was...
It's messy in his mind.] So we're not playing at the arcade? [He's deflecting, but it's obvious that it's clumsy now.]
[Scott watches Wriothesley for a moment, quiet once more. It's clear that the older man is trying to keep himself together and he's honestly doing a really good job about it, but he can see the hurt and grief that's covering him like a cloak. Not overly explicit, but it's there, and what does one say about something like this? He's sorry? ...He guesses, but it doesn't feel enough. Maybe nothing can be. He just has to help the other in any way he can think of.
Stepping forward, he reaches for his hand, before intwining it with his own. Some offer of comfort right now.
He hasn't lost someone like that-- not in the way that Kizuna meant to him.]
Later. [They can play at the arcade. Maybe it would be a nice distraction, but he doesn't want to let Wriothesley go that easily.] ...You're not alone, remember that, okay?
[Wriothesley is no stranger to loss. He has felt its touch plenty of times, but he had never felt it in this way. He had realized at some point that his priorities had shifted through the months. When he first arrived, returning to help Fontaine's citizens were paramount. Once he knew that things worked out, it became less of a worry, but the intention to return to Fontaine was still there.
Then it had all changed. At some point, he had found that leaving became less a priority. Perhaps an eventuality, but he had wanted to at least see his relationship with Kizuna through. Properly.
So now what?
He laughs a little, as unconvincing of a sound that it is.] I never said anything like that. There are people here. [But he doesn't say out loud the amount of people who have gone too. He's already burdening Scott for being in such a sorry state.] I invited you out, didn't I?
Would you have talked about this if I didn't bring it up first?
[It is a little funny to have such a serious conversation like this in front of the arcade, where they both can hear the sounds of the games. Fighting games, shooting games-- sometimes a pop song playing loudly from a nearby rhythm game, but Scott tunes all of that out. He's still worried and focused on the older man next to him.
Wriothesley is probably used to a lot of horrible crap and loss, but it all still sucks anyway, right?]
I'm glad you didn't just seclude yourself in your room, but you tried to act like everything was okay.
[Wriothesley is at least honest. He knows himself well enough to know what he would keep this to himself. Well, he would have told Clorinde, but that's his work wife, so it's different. Even then, Wriothesley wasn't one to seek out comfort. Probably still struggled to let himself be cared for even when his world was literally falling apart at the moment.
Even now, he seems determined not to get too emotional. It wasn't Scott's job to take care of a grown adult. It's easy to just tuck it away. Ignore it. Let it fester, but still prioritize everyone else. He can't show weakness. Not even now.]
Would you rather me come to you a sobbing mess? [It's really not the point, but Wriothesley loves to deflect or to change the topic so it isn't specifically about what he was truly heartbroken over. This was just a diversion.]
[Any other time, he'd huff and maybe roll his eyes, make a big deal how he was right in pinning Wriothesley down about how he wouldn't have opened up otherwise and that Scott was right once again. But right now this is far too serious of a conversation, with the other man dealing with that clutching loss, that Scott just stares at him through his shades and gives him a little acknowledging nod.
Though, his face scrunches a bit when he mentions coming to him as a sobbing mess. It's just pretty hard to imagine! And it does sound like a lot, but he squares up and does his best to respond in an utterly serious manner.]
I mean it would be weird but I'd choose that over you sobbing in a room all by yourself. That sounds even more sad.
[He laughs about it easily enough.] Well, I guess it is. I don't think I really remember the last time I cried actually. [He'd joke that it was probably recent and by sex, but he knew that this really wasn't the time for it. It also was probably a sobering thought to think about.
Perhaps he had shed some tears somewhere during the resort for more emotional reasons, but it's not coming to mind to say the least.] I just didn't have the luxury.
[Right, because he had a really crappy childhood. He remembers that much. But now he's an adult and far away from home and... guess that means he can cry if he really wanted to. The strangeness of it all doesn't disappear and Scott isn't hoping for too much, but he still squares up and crosses his arms, his gaze fixated on the older man.]
Great, then you try crying now. I'll give it to you, just this once. [He's so charitable.]
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Hmm? What makes you think something is wrong? Aren't arcades supposed to be fun?
[He rests one hand on his hip with an eyebrow raised.]
I'm here to have a little fun just like anyone else.
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Yeah, he's really not thinking too much about playing a game right now, despite the sounds of the arcade beeping around them.]
You're here to distract yourself from something, aren't you? ...What happened?
[He's always been just a little more preceptive, even back home and despite his attitude. Aware of how the other mutants felt cooped up, how they just wanted to feel normal, and that observational trait has only grown since coming here.]
no subject
Still, he would have liked to fall into a delusion for just a short while before having to go back to his empty suite.
His smile stays, but it no longer tries to be a smile. It's something bittersweet.] I thought those glasses of yours was supposed to make it harder to see. [He's teasing.]
I just don't want to go back to an empty suite right now. [Bastard is still being vague, of course.]
no subject
Kizuna is gone.
He's lucky that he managed to talk to Kizuna and know about their relationship before all this, and Scott doesn't hide how he frowns, something concerned tugging down at him.]
...Kizuna isn't there anymore. The guy you love.
no subject
Kizuna is gone.]
You make it sound like he died. [And maybe it might as well be just that. Honestly, maybe he would have preferred it that way. Death doesn't have finality here, given that some guests were spirits and it sounds like it is far from permanent, but it might have been better if Kizuna had died because Kizuna being a statue brings an assortment of uncertainty. Uncertainty breeds discourse in his already aching heart.
Love is a word he has never fully grasped properly because his life had been devoid of it for so long. He knew the word in definition and theory and had even learned certain layers of it. Heartbreak for someone whom he had wanted to entwine his fate with was...
It's messy in his mind.] So we're not playing at the arcade? [He's deflecting, but it's obvious that it's clumsy now.]
no subject
Stepping forward, he reaches for his hand, before intwining it with his own. Some offer of comfort right now.
He hasn't lost someone like that-- not in the way that Kizuna meant to him.]
Later. [They can play at the arcade. Maybe it would be a nice distraction, but he doesn't want to let Wriothesley go that easily.] ...You're not alone, remember that, okay?
no subject
Then it had all changed. At some point, he had found that leaving became less a priority. Perhaps an eventuality, but he had wanted to at least see his relationship with Kizuna through. Properly.
So now what?
He laughs a little, as unconvincing of a sound that it is.] I never said anything like that. There are people here. [But he doesn't say out loud the amount of people who have gone too. He's already burdening Scott for being in such a sorry state.] I invited you out, didn't I?
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[It is a little funny to have such a serious conversation like this in front of the arcade, where they both can hear the sounds of the games. Fighting games, shooting games-- sometimes a pop song playing loudly from a nearby rhythm game, but Scott tunes all of that out. He's still worried and focused on the older man next to him.
Wriothesley is probably used to a lot of horrible crap and loss, but it all still sucks anyway, right?]
I'm glad you didn't just seclude yourself in your room, but you tried to act like everything was okay.
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[Wriothesley is at least honest. He knows himself well enough to know what he would keep this to himself. Well, he would have told Clorinde, but that's his work wife, so it's different. Even then, Wriothesley wasn't one to seek out comfort. Probably still struggled to let himself be cared for even when his world was literally falling apart at the moment.
Even now, he seems determined not to get too emotional. It wasn't Scott's job to take care of a grown adult. It's easy to just tuck it away. Ignore it. Let it fester, but still prioritize everyone else. He can't show weakness. Not even now.]
Would you rather me come to you a sobbing mess? [It's really not the point, but Wriothesley loves to deflect or to change the topic so it isn't specifically about what he was truly heartbroken over. This was just a diversion.]
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Though, his face scrunches a bit when he mentions coming to him as a sobbing mess. It's just pretty hard to imagine! And it does sound like a lot, but he squares up and does his best to respond in an utterly serious manner.]
I mean it would be weird but I'd choose that over you sobbing in a room all by yourself. That sounds even more sad.
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[He laughs about it easily enough.] Well, I guess it is. I don't think I really remember the last time I cried actually. [He'd joke that it was probably recent and by sex, but he knew that this really wasn't the time for it. It also was probably a sobering thought to think about.
Perhaps he had shed some tears somewhere during the resort for more emotional reasons, but it's not coming to mind to say the least.] I just didn't have the luxury.
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Great, then you try crying now. I'll give it to you, just this once. [He's so charitable.]