1963-07-05 - Cain and Abel
Summary: Sean and Armando meet again- Armando reveals he's worked out Sean is a mutant….and what's to come.
Related: None
Theme Song: None
darwin garrison 

The car door shut, releasing its driver into the parking lot surrounding the library with an authoritative 'click' of locks sliding into place. The purpose of which would be difficult to discern, given the fact that the top was down on the convertible and Sean couldn't be bothered to raise it at the moment. If somebody stole it, he would buy another one. Shouldering his back pack a little higher, he lit a fresh cigarette and strode past rows of vehicles that his didn't belong even parked beside, like t-shirts hung next to suits.

A suit like the one he was wearing, freshly laundered and tailored to cut against his slender frame. The smoke wreathed around his features as he paused outside the library doors, his gaze having hitched upon a gaggle of young sorority sisters with appropriating consideration. As the cigarette burned down, he watched casually from the corner of his eyes, nudging the little hormones in the air to a more advantageous alignment until he caught the blue eyes of the red-head and flashed her a well-timed smile.

Certainly, he had caught her eye by chance alone. She was already tittering to her fair friends that wasn't he handsome? Maybe it was fate!

*BANG!* The backfire of a car was always a little jolting. The car in question? A 1936 Cord 812- although the body was in good shape, it was clear the engine was in dire need of some tuning. Still, the car had a classic style- and was clearly well loved.

Who should step out of the car but Armando- dressed in his own bespoke suit, tailored for his frame. He looked like a proper businessman- as one would expect, seeing as he's coming from work. Armando then turns and moves right for the Library- coming between the gaze of a pretty red-head and Sean- looking so much out of place with his grey skin and over-long arms- the fact he's 6'4'' tall only made him all the more obvious. "Oh, hey there, Sean." Armando offers with a quiet smile. "Good to see you again." Really, it wasn't- "How's your jaw?" he wonders, managing to make it sound like genuine concern. Inwardly, he's grinning.

To Sean's credit, he manages to disguise his disgust as his view is suddenly interrupted by the next phase of evolution. Blue eyes blink a few times, a tongue running over teeth as his focus is interrupted long enough to deter his original target, although Armando's presence likely helped in doing so. Their flirtatious tittering had devolved into whispering, some admixture of 'Who is that?' and 'Why do you think they're talking?' Curiosity bordered upon suspicion so readily, even among the young and open-minded.


The expression he wore as he regarded the other youth was souring with every passing moment, a lengthy sigh pronouncing his enjoyment of a cigarette truncated. He let the ember hit the ground and pressed into the cement with a polished toe,

"Wonderful. I'm glad that you can add to your resume 'encouraging women to throw the punches you are morally opposed to.' Where do I get one of those? The brown ones that fight for you? I'd love to put them up against a good solid dog, like we keep on the estate."

"Oh, Sean, she fought for herself." Armando begins, with a quiet smile. "And you were asking for it." he notes, "Its an odd thing, how those people reacted." he continues, with a little look towards Sean. Those white eyes seemed to stare into the man. Through him.

"Not every woman just rolls over and lets you have them." Armando notes, "Although, given your behavior I've got the feeling that's something rather foreign to you. You know, I went to Biltmore." A school on par with any Sean went to- a very well known boarding school. "I met a lot of people like yourself. Rich kids who've never had to work for anything." Armando shakes his head, "Its a sad thing when a man can't stand on his own two feet. Has to climb up Daddy's shoulders."

Emma arrives from Central Park.

Emma leaves, heading towards Upper West Side [N].

The challenge was risen to easily enough, but in the preened and practiced fashion of gentility. Straightening his jacket, he checked the cuffs and stepped casually forward into the shadow of the other man. Raising his eyes to the white pools, the size difference was all the more noticeable now, but it didn't seem to deter him.

"Why build another railroad when there's one already lain? You may have met a lot of people like me, but you haven't met me. Take care not to draw too many assumptions on appearance. It goes both ways."

The passing patrons of the library were slowing now, looking quietly over at the two of them, something in the posture or the sight unsettling, something in the air beginning to taste acrid. It was an old and visceral sensation of fear, and one that Sean may or may not have known he was encouraging.

Unlike most people Sean might try to intimidate, Armando doesn't back down. "My assumptions are based not at all on appearance, Sean. Do you really think someone who looks like I do would be so base as to assume one's look was their measure?" he begins. He's clearly unaffected by Sean's pheromones. There's not even a hint of change in his posture.

"Like all men your measure is based on actions. On how you choose to live your life." Armando says- even as his body further reacts to the pheromone cloud. It represented a danger to Armando- and since he currently was choosing to stand up and 'fight' instead of taking the option of 'flight', his evolutionary changes become more obvious. "How many people here have you trampled on? Treated like lesser men or women because they don't come from the same 'class' as you?" he asks, "How many would think different of you if they knew *what* you are?" Armando's voice falling low, a whisper. "When the Nazi's came for the Jews, it didn't matter their station in society. It just mattered what they were. Who they were. At the end of the day- you and me, Sean- despite the fact I think you're a slimeball? We're brothers. Because if they come for me, you're next on the list- and I won't let that happen. Even to you." He leans back, his whispered words allowed to sit.

A ringing settles in the ears, hangs on the tongue, clouds the senses until all that's audible is a pulse. The sensation is a faint recollection of a different time, when a man needed fists to survive and sometimes teeth when brute strength wasn't enough. And as Armando's words narrowed, the volume dropping to a hiss, their features drawn closer together around the whispered secrets, all eyes were on them and all bodies attempting to create distance from the conversation, like some bullseye marking an epicenter for catastrophe, but this one ringed with spectators instead of red.

Sean was silent in the wake of the truth, and he wavered for a moment as if he may stumble. The line of his throat bobbed with a steadying swallow and the sound of his breathing, taunt and anxious through flared nostrils, seemed cacophonous. Finally, he flashed his teeth and his voice parried in a low growl.

"You are nothing but an unfortunate accident of evolution. There's always waste when it comes to developing greatness. The finished product may be related to its predecessors but it will always be better. And that's all I am. Refined greatness."

His shoulder pressed forward, making no effort to go around the broad form of Armando, as he moved to shove past. Glaring quietly over a smoothed lapel, he clicked his tongue and something in the air settled as he put back on that pretty smile,

"But really, I appreciate the sentiment, Brother. I just don't think I'll need saving from the likes of you."

Armando relents, and lets Sean pass- "You have no idea how wrong you are when it comes to Evolution." he offers simply, with a quiet smile. "And I wish you the best of luck on your island. When you do need help, I'll be there- because its coming, Sean. Like it or not."

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