tact from me is like blood from a stone

[opiate_visions]

Isaac's birthday had been registered as the 17th of September, two weeks to the day before those children were born from mothers who weren't pregnant, the miracle children who were forgotten again until the unveiling of the Umbrella Academy.

Isaac had never learned much about it all. He'd lived somewhat sheltered from that part of the world and by the time he was old enough to explore on his own, the Umbrella Academy had come and gone and he was more interested in his own life and future.

But the blackouts became more frequent and the medication didn't help. He stopped taking the medication and it got more out of control, but he had found other ways to control it and by the time he was thirty, he was out of rehab (again) and didn't know what to do or where to go to learn about what he was.

So he used the last of his money to make his way to the old address of the Umbrella Academy and hoped someone there might be able to help.

He was raising his hand to knock on the door when he saw the flicker, a momentary glimpse and he stepped back enough that whoever was coming to the door wouldn't barrel into him...

Comments

[opiate_visions]

"Um, really? That's- thanks. I sort of picked up with nothing and came here. Most of what I brought was art." He can rustle up money fast enough if he has to, but having somewhere to stay makes it easier.

"Um... no offence? Unless you're a trained painter, it's probably easier for us to go together for supplies. And I'll need to meet her before I can select anything, so I know what colours and tones to get ahead of time."

[excessed]

"Yeah, sure. We've all been through hell one way or another for being born like this. Somehow the rest brought people together and me? I figure there's a reason for that. Course, I also think I'm trying to use this whole thing to erase what the old man did and start over so, definitely really."

Maybe it's his own penance for ignoring his siblings before; for not being there for Klaus and Vanya and the others. He's doing what he can though.

"None taken," he says with a shrug and a shake of his head. "I play bass, and I haven't even done that in ... fuck, too long, so all good. She should be around here? Unless Klaus took her shopping. Again."

[opiate_visions]

"I don't need to meet her this second," Isaac clarifies. "Just... before I get supplies. If the offer for somewhere to sleep is still available, I'd love a chance for a shower and clean clothes."

[excessed]

"Yeah sure. Come on. I'll show you the nickle tour and get you a room," he says, pushing back from the table and gesturing for Isaac to follow.

[opiate_visions]

"Thanks." Isaac hefted up his duffle, closing and gathering the art book close. "I really appreciate this."

[excessed]

Upstairs things have changed. Dens and libraries have been changed to bedrooms. With Isaac though he heads up another level, to a room where he knows there are high windows, figuring an artist needs large windows and light. Isn't that what they say on shows?

"The bed may not be much but we're working on new things. Selling off all the crap none of us needs," he admits. "But the house has been useful.

[opiate_visions]

"I've been through rehab, the bed will be fine." It was off the floor, there was a pillow, he'd manage. "Might as well send it off to someone who wants it. And if you're taking in strays and waifs, the money won't go astray, though, isn't your father like, a multi billionaire?"

[excessed]

"Oh yeah, we have a shit ton of money," he says with a smirk. "We... and by that I mean me for sure, just enjoying getting rid of all that shit we weren't allowed to touch because it was expensive." And he looks amused by it definitely.

"But we're redoing what we can for those here. Eventually we'll come up with other ideas."

[opiate_visions]

"My father's well off. Cargo transport." He pauses by a door and then goes back, heading in. "I think that might be a Whistler." He wandered over to a small painting on the wall, leaning in to look at it. "I mean, I'm not an evaluator or the like, but I did art school. And this reminds me of Whistler. You should consider bringing someone in to value this stuff. Some of it might be worth auction. Or donation, depending on how you feel."

[excessed]

"Wait, what? Like the whole Whistle's mother thing?" Yep, that is about the extent of what he knows about that kind of art. And he's not even sure if that's right either.

"I'll toss it at the others. Though not sure anyone would care, but I'm all for it. We'll look into it and get things looked at."

[opiate_visions]

"Mm." Isaac lifts the small painting and moves to the window to get better light. "Maybe. It's a similar style. Maybe school of." He looks up and gives a small smile. "Sorry, totally derailed."

[excessed]

"If we did get someone to come in and look at things, would you be willing to be there when they came here? I mean, I don't think any of us but maybe Five or Vanya might know about them. It might be useful to have someone that might have a clue if they're fucking with us," he says, figuring it might be helpful, at the very least.

[opiate_visions]

"If you want me there, but I'm far from a professional on that sort of thing. I'm a comic artist." He just thinks it reminds him of a Whistler piece he saw once. And the old man was rich enough to have one.

[excessed]

"Means you know more than I do, but I just want someone that knows enough they think you know it all. Otherwise they could tell me they're all knock offs and I wouldn't know. If they think you know though, it might be something else entirely."

Mostly because he has little faith in people.

[opiate_visions]

"I'll do some research and see what I can dig up, who has a good name in the trade. Might be worth moving them all into one space before they come, save wandering all over the house looking for pieces." He sets the painting back on the wall carefully. "But any reputable dealer will be trustworthy."

[excessed]

"And to ensure that the mass of people in the house, of all levels of abilities running around loose don't destroy a million dollar painting. Got it," he says, nodding.

"There's space to store them in one of the pantries on the first floor.

[opiate_visions]

"Aaand that," Isaac agrees. "I saw what happened to the statue in the courtyard."

He had painted it. He had also seen it out the window a few minutes earlier on their walk through.

[excessed]

Diego goes still at that, glancing at Isaac, thinking he means the other and then dismissing it, for a moment. "Oh you mean... yeah, that really didn't represent him. You'll realize that when you meet him."