Twila@

Twila@M3 - Tuesday, January 18, 2000, 10:54 PM
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Recreation Room <Hunter HQ>
The recreation room is traditionally the busiest idle-time location in Light Labs. Decorated with glass and steel walls and a hard floor, games and idle distractions of all sorts dominate this room, and the noise of games is seldom absent. Several pool tables dot the floor, and other gaming tables reside as well, where games of chance and simple idle chatter can commence. One wall is lined with various console game units, dating from the dawn of video gaming to current. On the opposite wall is a small bar where many kinds of drinks can be made, though the stock is more bare than it would be in a building occupied primarily by humans. A final touch is a jukebox in the corner, filled to the brim with a wide variety of music.

Chain slides into the room and plops himself down in the chair closest the darkest corner. He removes something from his jacket pocket, and you can't even tell what it is, as Chain flips it so fast that all you see is a little burst of flame, and then a cig hanging from his mouth.

Rick Morgan blinks at Dischord, before settling further back into his seat, drinking the last of his hot chocolate and setting the empty mug down. He really hasn't anything to offer right now, so he relegates himself to the silent observer for now.

Chain blows a smoke ring, looking generally unimpressed by 'Demon' Dischord and 'Black Scary Angst Armor' Zero.

Rock smirks a little at Zero, not really approving of the bad language, but unable to stop the bezerker Hunter from using it. He nods to Dischord, "Nice to meet you."

Twila Peterson wanders into the recreation area from the outer hallway after just getting off her shift within the bay. Helps to be able to switch hours with someone when one needs too...

Chain smirks, when he joined, the Hunters practically probed his aft and made him live in a box while they did background checks, and this chick gets in because she's a **** sometimes. Good guys, go figure.

Dischord chuckles slightly as she hears both Zero and Decibels comments. The glow in her eyes fading away into nothingness, revealing her human looking eye, and her entire body blackens for a split second, as if covered suddenly with a shadow, which disappears literally after a moment, revealing Dischord in some slightly more casual clothing. Nodding slightly at X she smiles and says, "Same."

Rick Morgan glances over at the sight of yet another figure coming in, and he quickly raises his hand to wave in his sister's direction, "Twila! hey!"

Chain blows another big smoke ring and props his feet up on a coffee table.

Rock leans back a little, looking at Dischord, "So, Zero's known you for a long while, eh?"

Zero downs the rest of his martini and gets up from his chair to go rinse out the glass and place it in the dishwasher, Zero may be a slob in some aspects, but he's a neat freak in others. He comes back and walks over to the pool table, and pulls out a pair of keys and unlocks a box nearby, pulling out his personal cue stick. He chalks it up and then gazes at the table, placing his stick down and rounding up the balls and racking them.

Chain grunts to himself, this is the part he hates about the Hunters, if his 'comrades' aren't fighting, they're being annoying, lovey-dovey, or angsty. At least he has the common courtesy to brood down in the basement and take his lovey-dovey stuff elsewhere.

Twila Peterson kicks herself out of her private musings as her name gets called. In doing so she notices Rick a tad more earlier than she does anyone else and heads over within her direction. "Yo, Rick!" she greets in return. Oh, brother. Yep. Since "yo" is a definite trademark of Rick's it's a good indication that they'r either linked or she's just plain picked up some mannerisms. "How ya feeling?"

Decibel pets the fluffy snoring lump on his shoulder with his free hand, taping another sip of his soda. He blinks upon seeing Rock, raising his glass to him. "Heya, Mister Mega.. er.. Rock?"

Rock glances across to Decibal, waving a little.

Rick Morgan eases forward in his seat and flashes a quick grin back at Twila. "Pretty good. Up and about now actually." he glances back towards the others present, then lowers his voice just a bit as he offers for Twila to come closer. "I uh...was wondering if you were up for us making that visit...."

Chain glances at Decibel out of the corner of his eye, great, the glam-rock Replisuit. What's he doing here, and for that matter, what the shock is Twila Petterson's roll here in the Hunters? Last he heard through all the gossiping Maverick Hunters was that she and Rock were on the outs.

Twila Peterson offers a small shrug in reply. "Sure. As soon as you're ready," she states slowly, knowing it's a visit that more than likely is not going to be an easy one to attend for him. "You?"

Zero retrieves the balls and re-racks them on the table.

Rock gives an off-handed wave to Twila, glancing to Zero. "Hrm. Mind a game with me when you're done there?"

Zero looks over at Rock and shrugs. "You know me, I'm always ready to give you a good whippin bud," he says with a slight smirk, trying to keep his mind off the negative stuff for now.

Dischord nods again at Rock, as she silently lands. "Yeah, you could say that. After all Zero is the second best person I've ever run into that can use a sword."

Rick Morgan pauses for a moment, as he eases himself out of his seat and stands up next to his sister. "No." he says frankly. "But if I don't, I never will."

Zero catches Dischord's comment and snorts, knowing exactly what's going to follow that up, but decides to let her have her ego for now.
Zero grabs his cue stick and goes back to surveying the table and then bends over, lining up his break shot.
Zero breaks, scattering the balls over the table.

Rock ahhs at Dischord. "I see. And who's the best?"

Decibel decides to wander over to Rock, since he doesn't really have anything else to do at this point. He takes another sip of his soda, and waits for an opportune moment to get in on the conversation.

Twila Peterson catches the Blue Bomber's wave, seeing it from the corner of her eye, and sends one back in return...although somewhat distractedly as Rick moves to join her. A small nod is offered towards the technician in understanding. She takes a breath of air before offering, "Just remember you won't be dealing with this alone, kay?" she states gently.

Rick Morgan hmmms quietly, and nods slowly, finding it hard of course to discuss such in the company of others. "Yeah..." he says quietly, by only way of agreement.

Dischord smirks slightly and shrugs, "I'm not sure on that one. I know it isn't me, but as long as you remember that there's always someone who /thinks/ they are better than you..."

Zero circles around the table, eyeing his available shots, and ponders for a moment, Zero used to be quite the pool shark back in the day, but it has been a while. He looks up in surprise at Dischord's comment and chuckles, "Ey, they may think, but I -know- I'm the best, sweetheart, and don't any of you forget that."
Rock chuckles at Dischord, taking a sip from the juice he got at some point in time during the interaction, "Yeah; that's always a humbling thought," He tosses a glance at Zero there.

Chain grunts and rasps at Zero, "Oh yeah, I don't think we will, given how much you remind us."
Chain blows another smoke ring.

Twila Peterson presses her lips together as she overhears some of the other conversations within the room, somewhat grateful for their own measure of distraction in their own way. Placing a hand on his upper arm she gestures with the other towards the door. "Shall we then?"

Zero leans over as he lines up the 3 ball and looks up at Chain briefly, "Well thank you for that insight Mr. Cynicism."
Zero studies the table and lines up his shot...
Zero sinks the 3 ball.
The balls ricochete around the table...

Dischord slowly looks over at Zero, and peers at him, shaking her head slightly, trying as hard as she can not to say the things that just keep entering her head.

Rock catches Twila's wave, noting that she's with her brother. "Zero, someday that overconfidence'll get you in trouble."

Zero looks over at Dischord and returns her glance. "Go ahead and say em, Dischord. You know I can take it. I've had to before." He then looks over at Rock and nods. "Hey, I know when I'm in too deep. Well, most of the time..." he says a bit quieter. "But as long as I've got you watchin my back, I don't think I've got much to worry about," he says with a smile as he goes to line up his shot on the 2 ball.

Chain blinks, the best comeback Zero has to offer is "Mr. Cynicism?!" Chain barely holds back a fit of laughter, managing to just smirk at Zero's stupid little reply.

Decibel takes another sip of his soda. His mental processes work through something, until... "Hey! Rock! Like, umh, I gotta question."

Zero studies the table and lines up his shot...
Zero sinks the 2 ball.
The balls ricochete around the table...

Rock looks over at Decibel, then, switching conversations as easily as switching a light on and off. "Yes, Decibel?"

Rick Morgan nods slowly, casting his own glance back to those present, then finally moving forward, staying with his sis. "Yeah, let's go." he says quietly, before heading out.

(Ch. A [Hunters]) Rock transmits: 'Have fun, Twila.'.
(Ch. A [Rock]) Twila Peterson transmits: 'Uh...don't see this kind of outing as "fun" per say. Visiting Rick's parents about some things.'.
(Ch. A [Rock]) Twila Peterson transmits: 'Like...about him not knowing he was adopted. Er...that kinda thing.'.
(Ch. A [Hunters]) Rock transmits: 'Oh... *gulp* Hopefully there won't be a problem between him and his parents...'.
(Ch. A [Rock]) Twila Peterson transmits: 'I hope not too. Tho...I suspect there might be.'.
(Ch. A [Hunters]) Rock transmits: 'That won't be good if there are. So... be good, then, and hope for the best, I guess. *nervous chuckle*'.
(Ch. A [Rock]) Twila Peterson transmits: 'Thank's Rock. Any amount of best wishes helps right about now.'.
(Ch. A [Rock]) Twila Peterson transmits: 'Meanwhile, good luck on the pool.'.
(Ch. A [Hunters]) Rock transmits: 'Call me if you need anything, Twila. I'm always gonna be here for you. *chuckle* Thanks... from the looks of it, I'll need it.'.
(Ch. A [Rock]) Twila Peterson transmits: '*slight teasing tone* When haven't you? *slightly more serious* And, I will. Same goes for you.'.
(Ch. A [Hunters]) Rock transmits: 'I'll remember that. Take care!'.
(Ch. A [Rock]) Twila Peterson transmits: 'You too. Catch ya later.'.

Rooftop Runway <Hunter HQ>

While it bears a fancy name and important function, this chamber is really no more than a glorified garage where the vehicles and Ride Armor sit when not in use or while being maintenanced. Large storage closets are against the back wall, directly across from the hangar doors that lead out into the Neo-Tokyo sky.

Rick Morgan of course, has long since lost his jacket, though he manages to compensate. Having liberated a rather large T-shirt to cover his bandaged side, he managed to also fit a thick sweater over his form, managing to suffice as far as warmth goes for now. He leans over the Cutlass, eyeing the bike and having given it a quick check before prepping it for transport.

Twila Peterson follows the cyborg into the hanger, hands within the pockets of her coat, keeping a close eye on Rick. The lack of a warm on his part doesn't really go unnoticed. Hmm, maybe there's something she can do to change that. She excuses herself momentarily to the area of the lockers before returning to the young man, something within hand. "I thought I'd give this too you the next training session. But, looks like you could use one now." What is it? It's a new bomber jacket Twila thought to purchase while out earlier that day. She had wanted to surprise him, although she didn't want to wait to long. For this season, a coat's somewhat of a necessity.

Rick Morgan blinks in surprise as the jacket is offered up, and he breaks into a wide grin. "Hey! Thanks Twila!" he exclaims, reaching out to take hold of it, and slip it over his shoulders. "Perfect fit too!" he adds, after testing it out, and of course, reaching forward to pull her into a quick hug. "Looks like you already know my size and everything huh?"

Twila Peterson chuckles in responding, giving him a tender squeeze within return. "Kinda hard not too when I'm also playing as your nurse. Glad you like it." She then pulls back, looking over him within his new jacket again before saying, "Besides, couldn't let you get cold. Not with how America's Northeast is at the moment."

Rick Morgan smirks, as he carefully eases himself onto the hoverbike's frame. "Yeah I know..." he says quietly. "Guess I was just expecting that New York City smog to really cover most of the cold. Generate pollutant heat and stuff." he snickers, then shrugs. "Anyways...I think we're all set to go."

Twila Peterson gives the bike a glance and proceeds to climb up, upon it. "Ok. By the way, do they know we're coming?"

"No," Rick admits truthfully as he starts up the hoverbike's engine. "There's...reasons for me doing that actually. I'll mention it at another time....maybe you'll even see for yourself when we get there." Mindful of his still tender side, he eases the bike up into the air, starting to slowly glide forward.

<Soon...>

New York - Western Residential
The area could be classified the Suburbs of New York City, or at least the closest there is to it. The region is made up of building after building of massive Acropolis's. Large, all-encompassing areas the serve as cities within cities, for the most part. On the roofs of them large bubbles give a view of greenery and a park within each.

Rick Morgan easily guides the bike through the upper levels of New York, swerving in and out of the other hovertraffic, and orbiting up near the roof of one of the mammoth arcologies, where the 'penthouses' and other assorted areas are located. The bubble dome opens a small hatch to allow the vehicle through, which quickly closes behind them again. Spread out below, greenery and parkland appears in large abundance, as those of the 'upper middle class' reside here.

Twila Peterson ponders Rick's sentiments as they proceed on their way to the place of there way. Her eyes grow wide as she and the cyborg begin entering the areas which she herself were never really accustomed too. Her relatives that she and Rick had visited may have been middle-class folk, but Twila herself was raised as lower-middle class. "Nice..." is all she can manage as she takes in the surroundings...

Rick Morgan gives a dry smirk, lowering in altitude and skimming over the treetops of one area of parkland, then finally easing down to a paved road, where actual, old style wheeled vehicles move to and fro. He merges easily with the traffic, keeping in place as he glances about. "Yeah...haven't been -here- in awhile..." he muses.

Twila Peterson continues to hold onto him as the man drives towards their destination. "How long...has it been?" she questions carefully with a tilt of the head.

Rick Morgan guides the bike past several surprisingly large near-mansion houses, though they appear to get smaller as he moves onwards. "2 years..." he says quietly. "Anytime I really talked to mom and dad it was over the phone and stuff. Never really felt I fit in round here..."

Twila Peterson can somewhat see why. The girl offers Rick a small squeeze around the waist, although careful of just how she squeezes of course. "It is...a bit different..." she musters. She knows of the stereotype of the well to do and idly hopes that Rick's parents are exactly fitting the mold, although by his manner, she somewhat fears it may be so. She would asked what they *are* like, but has a feeling she'll know soon enough.

Rick Morgan glances ahead, pulling along the road until easing into a long driveway, that leads to a modest house. Modest by comparison to the others here that is. What the area -is- however is spacious, in the form of open grassland in all directions for quite a respectable distance. "Yeah...I always get the feeling that I'm afraid where I'm gonna step around here," he says quietly. The bike is eased down the driveway, and towards the large area in front of the house, finding a spot to ease it to and gently set it down on it's landing gear, before finally sliding off very carefully.

Twila Peterson sets her jaw, looking about the premises a bit before following Rick's lead off the bike. "Uh, yeah. That feeling...must be catching." Do not walk on grass. Do not breathe on grass. That sort of thing. She glances back up towards Rick, trying to offer what support she possibly can. "Um...deep breath?"

Rick Morgan indeed does just that, closing his eyes for a moment, then giving a quick nod. "Yeah..." he says, before starting towards the house itself, and the front door. He moves up the steps at the front, and reaches out towards the doorbell...then suddenly stops.

A moment's hesitation, and he then reaches up towards the bandanna on his forehead, slowly removing it and holding it in his hand, holding the Maverick Hunter symbol up to glance at it. With a small sigh...he stuffs it into his pocket then.

After making the trek with him Twila sees the action of course, idly wondering for what reason the bandanna was removed to begin with...having a feeling that either this is a place where one must really mind p's and q's or---. Twila's relatives may not be the only one to have an objection to the choice in present local. Before Rick's hand can fully move away, Twila offers it a quick gentle squeeze in encouragement, then turns her gaze towards the door itself.

Rick Morgan closes his eyes at Twila's gentle squeeze, then nods, as he reaches out again to touch the doorbell.

A rather pleasant series of bongs ring out somewhere inside, sounding much like a very old style grandfather clock in it's chiming. A few moments of silence pass afterwards then, until finally the sound of someone approaching can be heard on the other side. The doorknob rattles for a few seconds, then the door itself slowly swings open, revealing an older woman standing there. Compared to Rick's 2 inches shy of six feet tall, she's barely over five feet herself, and she appears to be in her late forties, or perhaps very early fifties. Streaks of gray are visible in a cover of what was once dark, full hair, and the signs of aging have begun to appear more readily on this woman's frame. "Yes...?" she asks at first, eyes flitting first from Twila, then towards the other figure. When it registers just who it is, she catches her breath, one hand raising to touch her mouth. "Rick...?"

"Hi, Mom...." he returns quietly, the barest hint of a smirk tracing on his features as he steps forward, inevitably into the embrace that opens up for him.

Twila Peterson stands by to the side with a polite smile. Her hands slide out from her coat pockets as she observes the two, remaining silent for the most part, allowing the two to have their moment.

The older woman pulls back, hands staying on Rick's arms as she glances up and down, though notably, her gaze seems to snap back up very quickly after looking at his feet. "I had no idea you were coming..." she says with a small smile. "You're looking fit and well..."

"Let's just say I'm able to keep eating good," Rick returns with a small grin, before finally turning and gesturing to the other nearby. "Mom, I'd like you to meet someone very special..." He allows one arm to slip around Twila's shoulder, holding her close as he says this. "This is Twila. Twila, this is my mom.....Kaylen Morgan."

Of course at the word 'special', Kaylen's eyes light up a bit more, and she reaches out to take the younger woman's hand. "A pleasure dear...always a pleasure to meet a 'special' friend of Rick's."

A moment of silence comes from the technician, before he coughs once. "Yeah...real special. Mom.....she's my sister." Rather bluntly, he drops the bombshell.

Which of course has the effect of Kaylen blinking in surprise, seeming to freeze up.

"...what?"

Twila blinks a bit and awaits for the detonation as well as any incoming shrapnel that may come from. But she's not too surprised at this, not is she taken aback by the tone in which Rick stated his announcement. Gaining her own composure quickly enough she shakes Mrs. Morgon's hand and draws it from her limp grasp. "Huh...hello..."

Kaylen breaks into a nervous smile, and slowly shakes her head. "But..but Rick, that's impossible. We never had any other children...."

"Mom..." he cuts off her words, staring at her intently, "our genetics match entirely. And I did some background checks of my own...." He glances over to Twila, then back again. "We really have to talk. Is Dad home?"

The nervous smile fades from the older woman's face, replaced by a sense of almost desperation. But after a few moments, during which she casts another glance back in Twila's direction, she slowly lowers her gaze, and nods. "He's in the den..." she says quietly, stepping back into the house. "Come ahead in. I'll...go and tell him you're here." With that, she turns and moves further in, down a long hallway and into one of the adjacent rooms.

Rick sighs once, and eases himself in through the door, holding it open for Twila in the process before closing it behind him. Notably, he doesn't discard his jacket, instead, gesturing for the other to follow him as he begins moving down the hallway as well.

Twila Peterson doesn't offer too much as she goes ahead and follows him, finding there isn't overly much she *can* offer except her presence at this point. In fact, she's growing a bit more nervous herself. And Rick's expression isn't helping any, nor are the jumbled emotions she's picking up from him.

As the two move further into the hallway, and turn at the right point, it opens into a large room. A fireplace rests off to one side, and the furniture and carpeting all give a very old feel to them. On the wall are various paintings, from depictions of early 19th century scenes, to other historical moments. A large easy chair off to the corner of the room is currently occupied by a man who appears in his mid fifties, although age has been a little more generous with him in slowing it's grip on his features. Upon the entrance of the other two, he slowy stands up, apparently having been listening to words murmured by his wife nearby. The words are cut off then however.

"Hello son..." he says quietly, glancing at both figures before returning to Rick again. "What brings you here?"

"Dad..." Rick returns in a strangely formal tone. "...I think Mom's probably explained it enough right now. I think there's some questions to be answered right now." he gestures nearby, to the young woman. "This is Twila....my -sister-. Twila...this is..my dad. Weyland Morgan."

Twila Peterson offers Rick's father a slow nod as if in an awkward greeting as well as confirmation of what was stated. "Mr. Morgan," she gives in guarded response, moving a step closer towards the cyborg. Wether it's for her own well being or Rick's is unclear. Perhaps both. Twila Peterson .oO(Not exactly here for a family picnic...)Oo.

Weyland gives a slow nod in return, then stares at Twila for a long moment, almost too long it seems in his appraising observance, until Rick moves to intercede that is, not about to have her drawn into any line of fire. "I want to know why...." Rick says. "...why didn't you both ever tell me?"

Another lengthy moment of silence follows, in which both of the older couple exchange glances, and then look back. It's Weyland that speaks. "Son, I don't know if you're ready for..."

"DON'T give me that!" Rick snaps, raising one hand and clenching it into a fist, though not in a threatening gesture, rather to punctuate his point. "I've been shot at, cut up, smashed around and beaten into the ground. Then I find out that I've got a living, breathing, twin sister out there, and suddenly that I wasn't born here like I've been led to believe all this time. I'm MORE than ready to here it right now!"

The older man glowers for a few seconds, before adding in a biting tone, "It wasn't our choice for you to be in that profession you're in now Rick. And frankly what with becoming too much like the machines that you...."

"Weyland!" Kaylen cuts off her husband, raising one hand to touch his arm. Almost as if reluctantly, the older man finally holds his tongue, before easing back into his seat again, reaching for a pipe on a small table next to him and lighting it up.

Still, the damage has been done enough, and even though outwardly he manages to hold it well.....a sharp stab not unlike a knife sears at Rick's insides, threatening to spill out in explosive force were it not for the distracting influence of his mother's voice.

Kaylen sighs, glancing at the floor, then back up again. "Rick...you didn't come from the...best of backgrounds." she says quietly. "We...didn't want to risk that coming back on you. We thought it might be best if we tried to shield you from it....give you a chance to start over..."

Twila Peterson lays a hand on her brother's upper arm upon the older man's outburst, knowing well that certainly would have harmed Rick more than the slashes he had been dealt by Mason. As the man's wife proceeds to offer some type of explanation, she burrows knit almost as one. As such, the grip on the cyborg's shoulder tightens slightly.

Rick Morgan's voice chokes at first, a surge of emotion threatening to overtake him for a moment, before finally fighting it back down, finding the strength to do so at Twila's touch. "W...what ever made you think I couldn't have handled it?" he asks, "...that I still could have gone on even if I -did- know??" His hands ball up into fists, anguish and frustration threatening to surface.

Kaylen closes her eyes for a few moments, as if taking a shuddering breath. "We didn't Rick. You've got to understand we'd...never had children before." she eases into a seat nearby, casting another glance back in Weyland's direction, who has drawn in to quietly puffing on his pipe, and remaining silent. "Rick, your father and I found you by chance. Whoever your mother had been, whether she was even your -real- mother, she was not what you would call a model parent. She was a street urchin Rick, with a rough crowd. Motorcycles, drugs, alcohol..." she pauses for a moment. "When you ran with that rough crowd I feared that..."

"I know...." Rick says quietly. "I know. Let's...just continue..."

The older woman nods slowly, before resting both her hands on her lap. "It was once when this....figure that had custody of you attempted to go through a program to clean herself out Rick. Sponsored by your father's company. She was doing well at first but...I guess the temptations were too much for her, and she began to fall into a slump again. It was at the last moment, that she actually brought you to us, and wanted us to take care of you in her stead..."

Twila Peterson casts uneasy glances towards the two Morgans while drawing a little closer to the third. She's digesting what she's hearing as much as Rick is, sensing his present state and knowing that, at the moment, it's not exactly at it's best. Not that she can blame him of course. At the mention of the unnamed girl her back noticeably straightens. For the entire world she wants to blurt out questions such as: What happened to her? Is she alive? Where is she now? How can we reach her? Or, at least a part of her does. Another part forces her inner voice to settle as she simply continues listening. The only outward sign she shows is the grasp on the man's arm tightens somewhat further.

Rick Morgan indeed does voice such a question. "What happened to her?" he asks quietly, his form trembling just a bit under Twila's touch.

Kaylen sighs, and shrugs slowly. "We don't know Rick. We honestly don't know. She tried to stay in the program, but I knew she wouldn't make it. Not long after we had legal custody of you, she returned back with the crowd that she had been with. She disappeared and we never heard from her again. I wouldn't put many hopes on her being alive today. That was nearly twenty years ago after all."

Rick sighs slowly, closing his eyes and giving a small nod. "I see..." he says quietly.

Kaylen stares for a long moment, before straightening up. "Please don't let this block you Rick. We did it because we thought it might be best for you. We wanted to give you a fresh chance, it was all in your best interests."

Rick continues to stare downwards for a long moment, before finally answering, "Yeah Mom. Well..maybe my best interests was to keep me going on the truth. Maybe I could have handled it...maybe not, but at least I would have known. I...." he shrugs just a bit, before sliding back one step. "I....have alot of thinking to do about this...and everything else. It's gonna take me awhile..."

Probably going to take Twila a little bit as well, now that the twins are becoming rather close...as well as attuned to one another. As she has done mostly throughout this entire meeting between the son and his parents she retains her silence, not feeling she has really the right to hold a voice in this. She is concerned, certainly. And Rick can more than likely attest to this. Still, this is his visit, just as the get together with Twila's surviving relatives was hers. However, another outburst from Rick's father just like the one he had given not too long ago and she'd certainly say something.

Kaylen sighs, holding her hands close together in her lap. "I'm sorry Rick.....we're both sorry. If we'd known that it could have caused this we would never have even considered it."

Rick closes his eyes, lowering his head just a bit, "Even if you'd -known- Mom, deceiving me about my own past that....." he pauses, before continuing. "...I don't even have words for it. Families are built on trust, trust in one another. I trusted everything you told me throughout the years, the life we led, everything. It....I can't deal with that. Not now, it's too soon. I need time. Thanks.....thanks for talking when I asked..." Almost abruptly with those words, he turns around and begins to head out the way he came in, immediately moving for the hallway.

Kaylen herself closes her eyes, lowering her face to her hands, as a quiet sob comes forward, her entire frame wracked by its passage. Meanwhile, Weyland continues to hold his pipe in his mouth, eerily calm as he watches his son depart suddenly, wordless.

Although the younger Morgan's abrupt turn breaks the girl's hold from his grasp, it doesn't stop Twila from turning from the older Morgans and heading out after him, offering them only an unreadable glance in parting. Her tongue is held even as Rick's own covers her footsteps as the twins depart for the outdoors. At the moment, she's not exactly sure what to say. Her mind attempts to snatch up something as she follows. But, at present, she's attempting to sort out her own feelings towards what just happened.

Rick Morgan says nothing as he leaves the house, even moving across the large, paved expanse of the parking area out front, until he reaches the hoverbike. He reaches out for the handlebars at first, but then, instead places his hands on the seat, leaning forward and squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "A lie...." he chokes...his frame beginning to tremble again, his teeth gritted tightly. "A...lie. My whole life....everything...a...lie."

Twila Peterson slows her pace as she finally catches up with him, more that simply taking his demeanor...and, in some strange way, feels responsible for it...even though she's knows she's certainly not at fault. A hand reaches out again and finds itself perched on Rick's shoulders. For several lengthy moments Twila maintains her silence, trying to calm her own shattering heart. It tears her inside to see him like this. "Rick, I'm...sorry..." she tells him brokenly. A tear rolls down her cheek, burning her skin with its salinity "I'm sorry."

Rick Morgan's own tears flow freely now, trickling down his face as he turns at the touch, reaching out for his sister's form, needing her now more than ever. His arms pull her close, his own face nearly pressing painfully hard to the top of her head, as a sob racks his body. "You...Twila..." he chokes, finding it hard to speak. "...You're all that I have left....you're the only link I have to what I really am. All that remains to show who I am in this world..." he sobs a second time, squeezing his eyes shut tightly....

Twila holds in whatever measure of discomfort her brother's hold may be causing her, choosing to endure it and offer whatever solace and comfort she can offer instead. Her own arms reach out to return the embrace, holding him as tight as humanly possible, not about to let him go now...or ever. "Just...just as---" She tries again. "Just as your mine, Rick," she manages to get out somehow. "Well get through this somehow. I know we will."

Rick Morgan takes a long, shuddering breath, his hold on her form relaxing, as his own tears finally stop their flowing, though his face still lightly slicked with their passage. "We'll find out what happened to her..." he says quietly. "It's a lead. And even if she isn't...our real mother, she may be able to lead us to where our real mother was. We'll find out, one way or another." He pulls back then, both hands reaching up to cup Twila's face gently, as he touches his forehead to hers again, in what is becoming a somewhat familiar gesture. "We've got each other right..?"

Although Rick's tears may have stopped, Twila's are still streaking down her features. As she gazes back towards him through a somewhat clouded vision she finds herself nodding. "You're right," she sniffles. "We do. And we always will." The girl brings back her hands, sliding them over the length of Rick's arms, before allowing them to rest upon the backside of his hands as he fingers her chin. "I promise you that."

Rick Morgan smiles gently, staring back into her eyes. "I promise the same to you," he murmurs, leaning forward to press his lips to her forehead, before finally leaning back once again. He's seeming to gather himself together once again, still sniffling now and then though. "Let's...get away from here." he says quietly, lifting his gaze to look about the area, as if one last time.

Twila gives a slow blink as the token of brotherly affection is granted as if saving the gesture. While he offers his home, everything he knew, or thought he knew, one parting glance she gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze, in understanding. Her frame then slides onto the bike's seat, allowing Rick to gather this one last opportunity.

Twila Peterson knows that some day Rick may return to his parents. However, that day may be a long time in coming. A bond of trust had been broken. And once that is done, it's not so easily mended.

Rick Morgan reaches into the pocket of his jacket, pulling out his bandanna once again. He holds it in his fist for a long moment, before raising it and retying it about his forehead, and easing onto the hoverbike once again. With a quick motion of his finger, he flicks the starter switch, listening as the hoverbike thrumms to life. One last time, he glances back over his shoulder, before finally gently easing the throttle forward, and lifting into the air, the turbines effortlessly pushing the vehicle and it's passengers higher and higher.

The girl takes in a gulp of air as the bike takes the two upwards. Holding on, gently but firmly, to the only one she knows who is truly of her bloodline to gives one last glance towards the world below that Rick once lived within and all the trappings and facades that world once held. "And...we'll find the truth together..."