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[jump_thegun]

And here would be the younger brother, slinking in with a resolute (and rather sullen) expression on his face. He has blonde hair and blue eyes, unlike Nico, and is better-dressed as well. And better looking, more intelligent, and in better terms with their father, he likes to think. The last of those statements is usually deemed correct, at

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[lightmyhellfire]

"Oh, that's a shame," Raphael says, slinging an arm around Anaximander's shoulder and pulling him close as if they're old friends. "Madmen can be so fun, don't you think?"

[jump_thegun]

"Sometimes," he admits, barely acknowledging Raphael's arm around his shoulder, "they make good company."

"And sometimes, insanity can be used as a buffer against the painful truth. But I do not not try to avoid the truth like my brother does; I accept it, embrace it, and revel in it completely."

He's about as sane as Hell is boring.

[angel_afire]

She arches an eyebrow at him, vaguely curious -- if anything, she faintly recognizes the type of children born of that type of father. "No shame in shortening names, nor any in insanity, but whatever puts your mind at ease, I suppose," she says in a light drawl, gesturing just slightly with a hand. "Hello, at any rate. We don't get a family name, I assume?"

[jump_thegun]

"Where does one go from a world of insanity?" He says softly, almost whispering. "Somewhere on the other side of despair."

He smiles -- a cold, bitter smile once again. "T.S. Eliot. And if you ask my brother, he will tell you." He says, giving her an intense look. "He knows everything, after all." There is no sarcasm evident in his voice -- he may not even know what sarcasm is, in fact.

[angel_afire]

"Lovely." She studies him levelly, already mapping an opinion, almost a psychological evaluation. "Eliot isn't quite my cup of tea, I'm afraid," she replies lightly. "And who would your brother be?"

[jump_thegun]

This one is a veritable mine when it comes to psychological evaluation.

"The apple of the world's eye," he replies, "known to most as Nicomedes Pendergast."

[nooneinmytree]

Nico pauses, lit cigarette halfway to his lips. "Ah. Brother. I was just looking for you."

[jump_thegun]

"Have you now, fratello maggiore." He smiles thinly, using a habit he's picked up from their father -- Italian, of course, in tribute to their heritage.

"Were you afraid that I was up to something again? Or did you have an actual reason this time?" Despite their outward rivalry, Anaximander tends to be slightly collected when Nico is around. But only slightly.

[nooneinmytree]

"If you were up to something, I'd like to think that I'd know about it beforehand. Preferably from you. -- Besides, you know that I don't try to stop you and father, no matter how much trouble you seem to be getting into." Nico sighs, a world-weary and ever-patient sigh. "I was only curious, Anaximander."

[jump_thegun]

"You certainly do not hold up to that statement when you're trying to stop father and I from stealing you money - but of course, of course. Simply curiosity." He sighs dramatically, flinging himself into a nearby sofa. "You know what they say about curiosity, though."

[angeloffire_]

Xathanael's had time to compose herself (as much as she ever is, that is), and her eyes are ringed with black again, her dark waves of hair approaching tamed. She quirks an eyebrow curiously at Anaximander, twirling a half-eaten lollipop between her fingers and using her free hand to tug the pair of oversized headphones from her ears to rest around her neck. There's a silence before she speaks, in which she's at least attempting to imply a heavy sense of doubt regarding his claims.

"Y'know," she says finally, unable to suppress the automatic quirk of her lips into a faint smile, "sanity is relative. And I wanted to escape nicknames, too. That really hasn't worked out for me."