Wednesday, December 14th, The Midnight Channel

[thepull_mods]

Who: The Port's Latest Shadow Televisions Stars! And Thousands of Home Viewers!
When: Midnight, Wednesday December 14th
Where: In front of your Television Sets or Streaming NV TV. (Digital Cable? You'll still get the analog effect.)
Summary: Full Plot Details Here
Warnings: Please Put 'em In the Subject Lines As Necessary, Kids?

Comments

[hisdiscretion]

[The lights go up on an elegant bar, with a crystal chandelier and an impeccable marble bartop, adorned with velvet curtains. Classy jazz piano is playing somewhere off-screen, softly. Sitting in the center is a young man in a gold and black brocade frock coat with an ornate gold vest beneath, a glimmering, rainbow jewel in the stickpin of his ascot that catches the light.

That young man is Franz d'Epinay. He sits perched on a barstool, legs crossed and sitting at an angle that flatters the look of them. He wiggles one toe suggestively, cradling a gold-rimmed martini glass with one gloved hand.]

They say that Siren's Port is a city like no other.

[Yes, it's definitely Franz. But there's something very different about him, and it isn't just that he seems to lack his glow. The strangeness starts with his... esssesss. Every little movement and habit just screams queen in the 'worst' way - exaggerated limp-wristed gestures, the dramatic rise and fall of his voice that seems almost a womanly affectation. And yet this is not some girly

[regeneratesalot]

[ What the hell did she just watch? She's too tired for this. ]

[axemeaquestion]

[

Ro looked down at the glass of wine in her hand.

She promptly got up to go dump it down the sink.]

[gaveherwings]

Franz? [And as if Tenma weren't enough- Daedalus sits upright in bed, wide-eyed at the screen for the second or third time in the past ten minutes. ] That looks just like-

[But then he trails off, sitting upright and his mouth hardening into a line that's...mostly indignant.

Because that's a very cruel parody of what Franz is, too effete and too affected. He watches in a solemn, stoic sort of silence, his brow cringing in a hard line of worry, mostly because this crude imitator-

He suspects it will deeply hurt Franz, let alone his reputation. His hand reaches for Franz's, and his fingers grip tightly, a firm squeeze.

There's something that also stings, in a repulsed and quietly possessive way, about seeing even a silly image of his boyfriend carted off by a slew of half-dressed men.

The static returns, almost blessedly, and Daedalus is carefully silent. He isn't sure what he could possibly say.]

[hisdiscretion]

[Franz just stares at the screen. It seems like a very long time. He can't look at Daedalus either. His pallor is almost gray, his light faint. His words feel heavy, his tongue to stiff to convey them, and deep in the pit of his stomach churns an ice-cold nausea. He completely hates what he's just seen, but more than that, there's fear.]

I don't... sound like that... do I?

[gaveherwings]

[And here comes the awful part where Franz d'Epinay can sniff out a shamefaced lie like no one else.

Daedalus glances over at him, at his stricken face, bites at his own lower lip, unnerved, and then- in a quiet voice.]

Maybe the bit about... finding society trite?

[hisdiscretion]

So I do sound like that.

[Franz gets up out of bed. He isn't sure why, or where he's going, but he can't sit still right now. He goes to the kitchen to get a glass of water from the little spout in their ever-so-fancy fridge.

He presses his forehead to the cool of the refrigerator as if he hasn't the strength to even stand up normally, as it pours.]

[gaveherwings]

[Daedalus trails not far after him, leaving the TV behind as it replays some strange combination of music, static and numbers.

He's thinking about that suspicious broadcast which came through Romdeau, the quiz show- that he'd taken it all for face value truth, because he'd seen Re-l there, with Vincent, with that missing companion model of Raul's.

It had taken weeks then, to sort out what to think from that last shred of contact.

But this, with Franz right here before him, seeming shocked...

There was no way he could have had any part in that video.]

No. [He soothes gently, reaching for Franz's back and rubbing slowly.] It's a gross exaggeration.

I think that someone or something with a hand in broadcasting means to make a mockery of you. And we'll figure this out.

[hisdiscretion]

Why would anyone do that? Who even knows me that well who would?

[Franz is actually shaking a little. It was something he never admitted being self-conscious about, yet this transmission cut to his worst, most selfish of thoughts, and all the mannerisms he was so self-conscious of.]

I don't understand.

[gaveherwings]

I don't know.

[Daedalus scoops an arm around his waist, scooting in side against side and leaning a cheek to his shoulder, almost nose to nose with the stainless brushed steel of appliances.]

I've heard of- technopathy? The signal's not right at all, so maybe someone's trying to send a message. Patching something in.

But where would anyone get footage like that? You've never recorded anything remotely-

[hisdiscretion]

Sending a message? With me acting like some kind of... some kind of awful, flaming homosexual! [Franz slams his hand down on the door of the fridge, and then sets his glass down on the counter rather violently, spilling some of the water.]

I feel sick. That was disgusting. [His voice goes deep with loathing.]

[gaveherwings]

[Daedalus leans over him hurriedly, reaching across the counter for a paper towel to sop up over the spill.]

Don't let it upset you. That's what- that's just what this is aiming for, probably. To upset you.

[And it certainly was upsetting, still, the thought of Franz being at the center of a social swirl he really had no place in, himself. But he remains quiet about that, trying to settle his hands at Franz's shoulders.]

We've been over this. You're a fine man. You're not some kind of degenerate.

[hisdiscretion]

[Franz manages to raise the glass to his lips and takes a long sip before leaning heavily on the counter. The kitchen suddenly seems too small.]

Someone... someone thinks that I am! And I know I shouldn't care but...

[He's agitated. His breathing and voice becoming taut. He shouldn't be upset because this is just a jab at him, but just the same...

How did they know all the worst things about me?]

[gaveherwings]

[It isn't as though your mother will ever see it? Is the sensible, practical thing he'll nevertheless not say, because that might prove even less helpful.]

Franz...

[He sighs instead, holding at his elbows. He tiptoes to press a kiss at his temple, murmuring.]

Breathe. The important thing is that we figure out where this is coming from. Don't stress about the content. We can't change that now. It's aired already- and hopefully only to our apartment!

[And it's at that moment that the chime of a personal message decides to buzz at someone's NV, magically timed. Daedalus, swapping tactics and consolingly teasing, pats his boyfriend on the arm.]

That's probably Kurt Hummel, wondering why he missed the party invitation.

[hisdiscretion]

I don't care.

[He turns a little, pressing his forehead to Daedalus's shoulder. In his head he understands that his reaction must be ridiculous, that no one else could understand that it's hurt deeply to see that. It's just a little joke to them.]

Hold me a little. Please?

[gaveherwings]

Come here.

[Daedalus obliges generously, wrapping him up in arms and swaying a little right there in the kitchen, one hand cradling at his head, tucking him against a shoulder.

Daedalus inhales against his hair, and suddenly feels the weight of the week fall around him again, heavy.]

If I was ever a tiresome bore, you'd tell me, right?