sweetsunshine {Levi}

[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

”I don’t wanna hurt you but I sure as hell will.”

That was a lie. A terrific lie. Every inch of him curdled in on itself with the thought of HURTING the man under him ‘til it yanked his guts out of his mouth with shrill (sweet) screaming. Whoever thought that a man couldn’t scream like a woman was also a liar. They did. They did if you tried hard enough, which wasn’t uncharacteristic of Jahel to do so – try hard, that is, not scream, if there was any real confusion about that. ”Stay still,” he’d told him. ”Didn’t I tell you to stay still?” His heart thudded in his chest at an even, normal pace. A lot of people were prone to ask him if – should he have the chance – if he would want to feel what it was like to have a conscience; to feel empathy. Jahel, in turn, had always wondered why they hadn’t wanted to be like him. He was freedom unbound. He went to sleep every night with no regret and no second thoughts – it was divine! And yet they acted as though they were the desired, natural state.

But Jahel knew better.

‘Don’t make a mess,’ Gabriel Underwood had told him. ‘Get it done fast,’ he’d said; he must have been getting impatient with Jahel’s theatrics, his flair. But what was so wrong about being creative? Publicity was what Gabe wanted – right? Didn’t he? And no one knew how to get noticed more than Jahel, or how to draw attention and crowds to a scene.
He was already making up excuses in his head. ” Well, you tell me! He just wouldn’t sit still,”

[/b] he’d say. ”I told him to an’ he wouldn’t do it. What did you want me to do about that? You got your ways to get someone t’do what you want - I got mine.”

Besides, no one was around to hear it.

Squelch of flesh and delicate bone being pierced. The blade of his knife pierced through the lawman’s hand and pinned him to the wooden floor below him. Harsh screeches inflicted Jahel’s ears and he rejoiced in the sound; he took the hilt and twisted the blade until he could hear the tiny bones snap and the veins unwind and the blood soak into the wooden boards below him. The lawman babbled; Jahel snorted.

”I don’t want your money.”

And from the man’s mouth came watery foam, then spittle and then blood. Jahel’s violent soul twisted his body, raping the cells in his stomach, tearing them apart, mutilating them. His blood would boil and his muscles snap, ripped at the seams. From the inside out, like a pack of parasites, cells split and formed jagged lines across the inner wall of his intestines until they reached the skin above, where viscera and bodily fluids blossomed outwards like a flower, spurting; it scattered onto the wooden floor as though he’d spit it out. Jahel’s gaze was intense, making sure that his mind was the last to go, until he’d seen the last of himself rush out in the open air where it steamed with his own fading body heat. Only then was his murderer satisfied. He removed his foot from his chest, and, with a glance at the knife still embedded in the lawman’s hand, decided to let it stay. Let them discover ‘im like that.

Jahel turned his head and spat out something slick and red. Wiping his lips, he took a key from the table next to the body and left, his deed done, before hacking up a metaphorical lung.[/i]

***

Back at the compound (after a small nap) he was still coughing, standing at the sink again, hacking up something slick and red just as before. The white marble became almost as spotted as one of Gabe’s stupid dogs. One of his lips curled up in disgust.

When he thought he was done Jahel straightened up and yawned, cleaning the red from his lips and the bathroom marble before stepping out into the open. He was exhausted. He felt like he was gonna sleep til noon tomorrow (which was a long time for him) if he even made it to bed. Slowly he paced down the hallway, languidly, until he crossed paths with a certain little boy he thought he recognized as ‘Levi’. Couldn’t have been more’n…fifteen, fourteen or so. That’s middle school age, that is.

”Hey sweetheart. Why don’t you get me another beer?” he requested, flashing him a grin.[/blockquote][/size]

[Levi Xu]

Levi didn't get to leave the compound often. When the older members were out, doing whatever they did when they weren't around the house. (He didn't ask, though he was curious.) Sure, it was useful for him to be around, as he was very often the one who let the dogs out in the morning.

He was used to it, of course, by now. His father and grandmother had always been pretty protective of him, then there had been his long stint at the hospital. And since June, the young teenager had been living in this grand old house with people who completely terrified him. (And Jake, whom Levi still followed around whenever he was in the house, like one of his living shadows, or a lovesick puppy.)

He was also pretty used to being ignored by the older residents, particularly the ones who weren't charged with training him in something. (Levi got on well enough with Oliver, but he stayed the hell away from Mordecai.) So when he passed Jahel in the hall, he'd been surprised that the man had acknowledged him at all, but calling him sweetheart was just weird. The closest thing people ever got to an endearment with him was an off-the-cuff "kid" sometimes.

"Oh, yeah. Okay. Sure." Ever obedient, Levi shrugged and turned on his heel, with his puppy Buccaneer following right behind him. (Both of them knew Jahel didn't like dogs too much, so there was no way the Aussie Shepherd was going to stick around.) He trotted down the stairs and into the kitchen, then pulled open the refrigerator. As he had never drank any beer in his life, he simply picked one of the ones there out--avoiding the brand he knew Jake liked--then headed back upstairs to deliver it.

Levi didn't know Jahel all too well, other than his dislike for dogs. (And no one in the house didn't know that.) So as a precaution, he stopped at his own room and ushered Buccaneer inside, where the little dog would be safe. Then he cautiously approached where Jahel was, and held out the bottle. "Here you go." He knew the man hadn't been around earlier that day, so he tentatively asked, "Where were you this morning?"

[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

He watched the kid leave, little dog in tow. He eyed it, giving the small animal a sort of squint that made it look behind itself and put its ears flat against its head. He wondered, briefly, if it could smell the murder on him.

Jahel rubbed his nose, followed by a loud sniff. He wasn’t feeling too well; he knew doing all that and walking back here (instead of taking a bus or a taxi like he damn well knew he should’ve) would take a toll on his health. Now he could feel it rise up again like a spider creeping up his throat. He thought he’d gotten it all out in the bathroom; rather, he’d hoped he did, and this was what he’d got for wishful thinking. When he felt the first lump close in his neck he plopped down on a handy couch beside him so hard that the pillows flopped, and proceeded to hack up the excess side-effects of straining his power.


When Levi returned he was busy wiping blood-mucus from his chin and looking in dismay where some of it had stained his shirt and splattered on the wooden coffee table in front of him. There was quite a lot of it; he’d spent a good two or three minutes shoving it up out of his guts and onto the carpet and the couch and anywhere within a three-foot range, at any rate. Jahel looked up when Levi re-entered – and smiled, red staining his teeth, whereupon he lifted his tongue to swipe it away from his lips.

"Here you go." The kid approached him. Jahel looked him up and down. Levi had barely flinched at the sight – he liked that. Brave. "Where were you this morning?"

First he let out a small deep grunt and reached out to take the can from him. It opened with a sizzle and pop; he put his head back and took a chug of it, wiping his mouth with his sleeve and staining it a pinkish-red. He didn’t mind. It was already ruined anyway.

”Out,” he answered.

For a while it seemed like that was all he would say, until he looked back up at Levi with a much calmer, nicer smile. The corner of his eyes crinkled up in warmth. ”Had some business to take care of. The rest of us don’t sit around the house all day, y’know. And what about you?” He placed the can on the table in front of him. ”Been studying hard, mn?”

[Levi Xu]

Levi knew better than to ask.

It wasn't the first time he'd encountered one of the older residents of the compound coming back looking... disheveled is a kind way to put it. He didn't say anything about, or ask, but he'd been forming his own theories for a while.

Mr. Underwood wanted to protect and defend meta-humans. And as he'd been told repeatedly since he'd moved to Vermont, there were a lot of people out there who didn't think that Metas deserved to be treated the same as humans. Sure, there were some good ones--people like his family--who could accept the ones who were dangerous, but there were many more who would rather he be locked away, at least.

And he didn't even have a dangerous power.

So Levi understood that sometimes the other members of the group would come back, looking like they came off the worst in a fistfight. If it wasn't for the hatred so many humans had, it wouldn't happen. Though he was still intimidated as hell by Jahel, he felt sorry for him, looking so awful, on top of already only having one arm. Poor guy.

But wait, was he supposed to bring a beer to someone with an addiction? Levi hesitated for a moment before handing the can over, but since Jahel said "another", he assumed that Mr. Underwood had cleared him to drink.

When Jahel answered his question shortly, Levi almost took that as a dismissal, and started to leave. But then he was actually smiling at him, and Levi smiled back. "Yeah, I've been studying. It's easier to learn here than back at my old school. No one else is in my class." The boy shrugged, then looked at the can in the man's hand. He knew that Jesse drank beer with Mr. Underwood.... "Do you think Mr. Underwood would be okay if I had a beer?"

He's fourteen. He's curious.

[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

”I’ll bet,” Jahel chuckled, leaning against the couch. One hand held the can, the other spread out across the top of the sofa; he kept his eyes on Levi’s face while his lips pulled up to reveal his teeth in a small sort of smile.

Levi was a sweet kid. He’d known this for a while but had had little time to reflect on it; a bit of a late-comer to the M.S.A.D compound he was unfortunately lacking on the facts, but knew enough to realize that Levi did not fully comprehend the extent of his situation. That was alright, though. It only enhanced his innocence, like how force-feed enhanced the taste of veal.

”You mean you’ve been here for – what is it – months now and you still haven’t tasted some beer?” He let out a soft ‘huh’, before taking the can and holding it out in front of him for Levi to take. ”Here it is then. You can take a few shots for all I care. ‘S not right to keep alcohol from a growing man, now is it?”

He patted the spot next to him, indicating that Levi should sit. When he was satisfied that he was, he leaned a bit closer, so that he could see some of the red still staining his white teeth; even latent his power throbbed outside of him and lightly tickled Levi’s skin in such close contact, making the hair stand up on end and the flesh rise. It soaked through his clothes and his skin and melded with his heartbeat, thudding through his system like an external organ, vibrating through bone and muscle until his brain got used to it and tuned it out. It became a dull whine in the core of Levi’s ears.

During this time Jahel had started talking again. ”You like it here, huh? Everyone’s treating you nice? – That’s great.” His smile had become pleasant. ”Oh! I know. Since you do so good, maybe I can take you someplace. It’ll be fun, I swear – better’n cooped up here.”

His arm reached out to ruffle his hair. ”So how ‘bout it?”

[/size]

[Levi Xu]

If Levi had been a little older, or a little less sheltered, or a little less deluded, he would have done what his instincts were telling him and gotten the fuck out of there. But he wasn't aware that it wasn't his ability shouting No, no you idiot! Get away from him!, but instead his common sense.

Oops.

"I've been here since the end of June." Yeah, that was a long time, wasn't it? He hadn't gone back home since then, though he still talked to his father, sister, and grandmother every week. And he knew his dad wouldn't be happy to learn that he wanted to try beer. He took the can from the man, considering it for a moment before taking a sip.

"Ugh," Levi pulled a face as he handed the beer back to Jahel. Why in the world would anyone want to drink that? "Why do you like that?" The boy took the seat Jahel offered, though as his skin started prickling, he shifted a few centimeters away. This was uncomfortable.

"Y-yeah, I guess." No, not everyone was treating him great--Jake being the notable exception--but no one was being awful to him. Mr. Underwood was busy, but nice, and Oliver was a good teacher. He certainly didn't have anything to complain about.

A bit of hope edged into Levi's voice, "Really?" The only place he'd been outside of the compound--and he had explored every inch of Mr. Underwood's property that he could reach--was Pilot Ridge. He'd gone back a few times since that first expedition, hoping to see his friend Evan again. But the boy hadn't been around. "Where do you want to go? I mean, that sounds great! What will we do?" Really, when Levi was excited, he looked like nothing more than an overgrown, happy puppy.

[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

”It’s an acquired taste,” Jahel assured him.

He chuckled as he looked into Levi’s sweet, eager face. He remembered when he was Levi’s age, he was outside hitting things with sticks or something. It was quite a contrast looking back on it. Sometimes he sort of felt sorry for people like Levi; didn’t they realize what they were missing? There was so much more to life than studying and a house full of dirty dogs. ”I know a few places,” he said. ”Not that we can go too far. Gabe would throw a fit if he saw you wanderin’ off, I imagine.” He’s already pretty distraught over that Jesse kid.

He smiled at him; it was a warm kind of smile that only barely touched his eyes.
”But I think we can get away with a few things. Mm?”

It should be noted that Jahel didn’t necessarily mean any harm to Levi, but he was impulsive, uncaring and – for lack of a better word – not very kid-friendly. He certainly did not make a good babysitter and their difference of moral-spheres and understanding of right and wrong was sure to bring about some conflict. All of this was just a buzz in the back of Jahel’s head now, though. The thrill of murder had stifled his reasoning as though he’d just guzzled down some alcohol (which he was doing, in fact, and it would surely not help). Though he’d stayed up for much of the night before the last and had not slept since then, he was still wired and ready for more things to do, this time with a small, innocent bystander named Levi.

Show him a little of the real life, he thought.

”I think it’s about time you learned how to defend yourself, anyway,” he declared. ”A little bit of training won’t hurt. Have you ever held a gun before, kid?”

[/size]
[/justify]

[Levi Xu]

Acquired? Yeah, maybe by people who liked drinking things that smelled like a gas station bathroom.

All summer, Levi had been outside, through he'd been romping around the grounds with the dogs--the friendlier ones at least, he only brought Frederic out in the mornings when he was the first one up. But he'd never been one for hitting things with sticks. If he saw a spider, he didn't squish her, he'd sit and watch her spin her web, and possibly talking to her as if she was Charlotte. (No, his power didn't make him think that the spider actually was named Charlotte, but it was fun to pretend sometimes, right? Though that was only when he was alone. He didn't want Mr. Underwood to hear that he sometimes talks to spiders.)

"It's not wandering off if I'm with you, though, right? And he lets me go all the way into town by myself." Levi said, rather proud. When he'd been home, he'd never been allowed to go that far on his own. "What do you want to do?"

Levi wasn't good at "getting away with" much of anything. That's why he tried not to lie. It was way to easy to tell that he was doing it.

"Kinda?" Levi shrugged and blushed, not entirely pleased with having to admit this. "Um, Mr. Underwood told Lala and Reese to teach me how to do it, and how to do some karate" It hadn't been karate, but all martial arts, in his head, became karate. It hadn't ended so well, and the fifth time he'd gone to Dr. Donahue, crying over a bad bruise, the lessons had stopped, and no one had said any more about them. "I wasn't very good though."

[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

”Kinda?” Levi told him; Jahel spoke straight over the rest of Levi’s explanation.

”Really?” he asked, as though he were surprised to hear it. Just where was Gabe getting some of these kids? What possible use could they be, he wondered? He squinted a bit at the small boy in front of him, looking back at him as though he’d have trouble hurting a fly. Jahel’s eyes flitted down to his shoes and then up to his face, then made a face as though he’d sized him up and was subsequently not impressed with what he’d seen. ”…Well it’s about time you did.”

”So - ” he paused to take another sip, ”- I assume you know all about the state of affairs out there, y’know, the whole human and the meta-human thing. I’ve heard that yours is a bit more…subtle power than some of the rest of us. Which is fine, it’s fine, you’ll just ah…need some more - ” Jahel waved his hand. ”guidance, I suppose. Something a little bit more physical. Right? And if you ain’t much good at karate, there’s more’n one way to, y’know, defend yourself.” Jahel shrugged. ”Or whatever else you need to do.”

Odd that they’d teach him math and science but none of that. Jahel supposed it was because Gabe wanted the M.S.A.D. compound to seem like a real school to Levi, but what were they supposed to tell him later? If they left it at that Levi’d be looking for some sort of diploma soon enough, and hell if they ever gave one to him. That would just be plain silly. Here he was, eating their food and living in their space and he got nothing to show for it, not even potential.

Jahel then swung his heavy arm around Levi’s thin shoulder, giving it a squeeze. ”And don’t worry ‘bout it, sweetheart. I’ll make you good at it. It’ll be fun,” he said.

He had something more up his sleeve. Levi’d not only need to get a handle on defense – he’d also need to have some experience with the law. Shouldn’t he?

”You’ll be just fine,” he assured him.

[Levi Xu]

Levi very obviously didn't fit in with the rest of the group. He wasn't threatening, or strong, or anything like that. Granted, not every member of M.S.A.D. was as intimidating as Jahel. But even Penny had a hard look sometimes, and even Fifi had that sneaky, slimy way about her. Levi didn't have any of that. He was just some wide-eyed, naive kid, in too deep in something he didn't understand.

Of course, he thought he understood. "Yeah, I do know that. They hate us, because we're different. Or, a lot of them do. And we have to do what it takes to protect ourselves, because the laws aren't there to protect us." The boy nodded enthusiastically, ready for whatever "guidance" Jahel could offer him. Levi knew he was useless at the moment. And he wanted to change that. If Jesse and Fifi were capable of going on missions--that's where he assumed Fifi was, since she was gone so often--then he wanted to be as well. He wanted to help them stop the humans who hated them so much. He was one of the lucky few whose family accepted him and loved him anyway. Most metas didn't have that.

That was what Gabriel had been teaching Levi, in addition to the scholarly tutoring from Oliver and the language lessons from whomever was around. Maybe Gabriel didn't have another little fighter in him, but he had an earnest teenager, who believed everything he said.

Even though Levi's skin was prickling from prolonged exposure to Jahel, he didn't twitch or move away when he swung his arm around his shoulder. And though he rolled his eyes at the man referring to him as "sweetheart", he was excited. Maybe he could actually be useful, for once. "That sounds good. What are we gonna do?" He was practically bouncing on the couch in anticipation.

[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

”Glad you understand all that, Levi. So Mister Underwood’s been through some things with you already?” He chuckled. ”So that’s where we take the law into our own hands – an’ that, sweetheart, is what our little family here is all about. You know. Helping people. Maybe once we get big enough, we can move to the big cities and get even more of an influence there, make more of an impact, help more people, find a niche…” His blue eyes fell on Levi. ”And you could help us get there.”

”Well – “ he continued, swiftly, before Levi had a chance to respond – ”’course, we’re all doing our part. You shouldn’t stress yourself out about it. No one here expects you to wake up and be some sort of prodigy.” Jahel gave him a quick squeeze around his shoulder followed by a quick pat. He smiled, revealing his left canine, eyes narrowing in warmth. ”But I’m telling you now, if we didn’t think you wouldn’t grow up to be something special, we wouldn’t waste the time on you, right? C’mon. I want to show you something.”

He took him outside and taught him how to shoot. He showed him the calibers and the differences between them, how each decimal meant a bigger or a smaller barrel length and how much power each had. How the smaller, quicker handgun was to be shot inside and the more powerful rifle outside. Jahel was surprisingly tolerant of Levi’s mistakes, almost patient; when he showed fear or hesitation he only told him that he needn’t bother with it now, but at his own pace; when he stumbled, he shrugged it off and told him that most people started off like that. It was no big deal. He’d get the hang of it eventually.

Jahel stood behind him, his hands on Levi’s, guiding the barrel to his shoulder. ”Hold it firm,” he warned him. His hands were huge compared to his, and a good deal darker; they held his smaller, younger ones in place as he took over and aimed for him. ”A good gun can kick back and dislocate your shoulder if you can’t do it right.”

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[Levi Xu]

He shrugged, barely moving the weight of the man's arm. What was it about the other residents of the compound and their ability to make him feel tiny and weak? But he still smiled. Sometimes he wondered why Mr. Underwood kept him around, since he wasn't really useful. But if they really thought he could grow up to do something great for Metas, then maybe it was worth it. "Really?" he asked, looking up at Jahel; he didn't get called special enough. At least not in the good way.

Like the man had said, he was no prodigy.

Levi dutifully followed at Jahel's heels, occasionally actually stepping on them. He hadn't been upset when his last round of self-defense lessons had ended, but it was nice to be doing something productive. Even when he had failed so spectacularly at it before.

The firearms lesson was mostly a review for him. He remembered the calibers and the gun types from what Reese had taught him months ago. But when it came to holding the guns, and aiming them, he just couldn't do it. Above everything, he couldn't imagine pointing the gun at something alive. He didn't think he'd be able to pull the trigger if his target had a face, let alone a pulse.

When Jahel stood behind him, the hairs on the back of his neck raised again. Something about the man just made Levi's skin crawl. But he tried not to show it, as he assumed it was a combination of the man's power and having the stump where his arm should be pushing against his arm, guiding the gun into place. But even though he'd been drinking, he was still undoubtedly able to aim better than Levi. (He was scared of guns, simple as that.) "And that means I wouldn't hit anything, right? What happens if I miss?"

[Jahel Yosef]

«Jahel Retta Yosef
male; thirty-two years

That seemed like an odd question to him. Any number of things could happen if he missed. But ”Well, if you’re gonna shoot a gun, then you’ll find out what it’s like t’be shot eventually.” was all he seemed prepared to say about that.

He wasn’t expecting Levi to indulge himself in violence and gunplay any time soon. If he’d heard correctly (and he hadn’t heard much, according to his attention span, his late arrival and his general unconcern with anything not relating to himself) then Gabriel meant for the boy to be a sort of…what was it? Back-up? A mascot? Some sort of thing of which purpose Jahel thought was completely over Levi’s head. He was too young, too inexperienced to be involved in the implications that M.S.A.D forced on him. Jahel couldn’t have known what they were thinking when they allowed Levi on board. As far as he was concerned, there were only two options to be had: the eventually incrimination of M.S.A.D in the eyes of the meta public for the involvement and unfortunate mishandling of youth, or the unwanted attention of Hammel.

Contrary to his words, his mind, cold and devoid of conscience, could see Levi as nothing but a liability. – granted, not a threat, but not anything particularly useful. Keeping him around was adverse to Jahel’s nature. There was no contribution, and no strong power to justify him being kept here. Levi had no knowledge of M.S.A.D’s real intentions and they kept no real record of his activities, his whereabouts nor his acquaintances. He had only to let one slip of the tongue out to the wrong stranger, and their location, their personnel and every essential detail of their group would be compromised. Gabriel Underwood’s identity was not very subtle, in any case. All the authorities would need is his name. Furthermore, Levi’s buy-in to M.S.A.D’s goals were nonexistent at best. According to Levi’s nature, Jahel knew he would be repulsed if he truly knew what went on behind scenes. A member whose shaky dedication to a group as controversial as M.S.A.D was…unwise.

The wheels turned in his head. His eyes, frozen over with its ice-blue color, watched as another of Levi’s bullets lacerated its target. It stripped it of its wooden flesh and caused stray bits to rain down, its chipped paint bright red against the lawn.

”You said you were bad at this, sweetheart. What happened to all that complaining about yourself?” He cocked his chin towards the broken target. ”You’re decent.”

Then he turned to the side and gave Levi a warm, gentle smile.

”C’mon. I’ve got something to show you.”

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/justify]

[Levi Xu]

Levi's jaw dropped. "Wait...what?" He didn't want to shoot anyone, but he also didn't want to get shot. "Have you been shot? Is that what happened to your arm?" He'd never said anything about the man's missing limb before, because he'd just assumed it had something to do with the drugs. "I--I don't want to get shot." And it wasn't like he went out on missions, or even near guns that didn't belong to the people he lived with.

And they wouldn't shoot him, right?

Mr. Underwood did have plans for Levi, even if he didn't quite understand them. No, he wasn't going to be a typical operative, going on missions and potentially getting in trouble. His purpose was more for the other face of the organization. In a few years, when he was an adult, he would be proof that keeping kids at Hammel for their formative years wasn't necessary. He was personable, fluent in three languages, and friendly. If M.S.A.D. needed in innocent, charismatic PR person, Levi could be it. Eventually.

When he finally did shoot, he nearly dropped the gun. It was heavy and it hurt. But miraculously, the bullet actually hit the target. "Ow...Wow. I did it!" Levi put one arm on his shoulder and massaged it, because it really did hurt. He couldn't contain his grin though, because he'd actually hit the target, and he'd never done that before, not in any of the lessons he'd had with the twins. "It's because you aimed it for me. Thanks Jahel."

He followed after the one-armed man, the gun still hanging in his hand. (Levi was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to put it down, now. "Cool. What is it?" Before that day, he'd never shown much of an interest in him at all, and now he was going to show him something? After beer and a shooting lesson?

Maybe Jake wasn't the only one he could be friends with.