“Woah, now, mate…”

Hands up, trying for placating, but not quite escaping that universal [i]I know I’m in trouble, please don’t shoot me[/i] set to his arms, Kal slowed his approach significantly when the man came back out. Armed and dangerous this time. Had he been standing at the door? Couldn’t take a man that long to grab a rifle he wanted it bad, could it? 

He didn’t know, he didn’t own one, had never had to stick it some place out of sight but still in mind. Prhy had a tendency to break the things, intentionally, as soon as no one else was looking. Too much noise, he always glared, never actually out and said it though. So, Kal liked to figure he didn’t like the violence inherent in them either, but that might have been romanticising his brother’s grunts a little much. “I ain’t keen t’have anything in common with swiss cheese t’day. Don’t want no trouble, just a few words. Hear me out, I’ll get gone soon’s I’m done you still want us out. Boot my rear off’n your porch personal you want the satisfaction, I jus-t…”

Oh hello…

While his arms didn’t drop, his words did dry up when another voice broke in. He’d been rambling a little there, to his chagrin. But what else was a man to do with a gun being so handily presented him. At least the fellow hadn’t been pointing it at him. Not until he twisted towards that voice. Dad, was it? 

Well, he supposed he could understand the sentiment, but he was beginning to doubt his brother’s sanity. Honestly, parking them right on their front lawn like it was no big deal? What did he expect? A hug?

Being as unintrusive as he knew how (which is to say, being rather straightforward about his staring), Kal looked over the man’s shoulder towards the young woman who appeared in the doorway. Her shape was blurred by the screen, a dingy sort of image, like static on a tv screen, but she was visible enough. And his jaw set as he ran through the first questions he’d been holding in. Could she kill him? [i]Yes.[/i] Staring? [i]No.[/i] Touch? [i]No.[/i] Stop his heart? [i]Yes.[/i] But that’s what killing meant… Stop his heart to kill him through… anything now, c’mon what was it now? Pheromones! Could she? [i]No.[/i] Well, that was good to know. He wasn't sure he'd got the right method down, there... Howsabout screaming? [i]Yes.[/i] 

Right, Prhy’s going to love this one… Wickedly, his first solution was a gag, but Kal knew that wouldn’t cut it, or endear him to either father or daughter. His first priority, however, was in convincing them he meant well, and hadn’t any affiliation to whatever had them spooked. Government, lawmen, or just angry neighbours seemed a good bet. The trouble was, he didn’t have anything obvious with which to convince them. Well, nothing immediately to hand, but… 

[i]Please don’t shoot me...[/i] 

Hands still up, staying to either side of his head as though he was supporting an invisible beam, Kal set his teeth to his lower lip and gave a sharp whistle, long enough to catch in the ears with a faint ringing, but not long enough to annoy the man he was trying to signal. [i]Please don’t be playing deaf still, oh Lord on a lark…[/i] He saw the girl flinch wildly, staring, and grimaced ruefully as the trailer door banged open behind him, but decided not to look, what with the gun still wavering uncertainly in a direction more or less encompassing him. Whelp, that’s three upset. And they’d all be blaming him, he was sure. 

“Sorry there, little lady, weren’t no intention a’mine to worry you, I was only wanting t’get a bastard outta bed. Had it coming, too, he got us all out ours so earLY.” The last word came out louder and harder than he’d intended, as a heavy hand swatted the back of his head. For a moment, he forgot the gun as he slapped a hand to the hurt and turned to glare at the half-dressed and scowling man meant to make all the difference in this endeavour. Alright, he deserved that.

For his own part, Prhy didn’t bother with formalities or trying to convince anyone to let go of whatever made them feel they had the upperhand. He just cuffed Kal quiet and said what he’d come out to say. “Idiot brother.” It was less an apology than a statement of fact as he jerked a thumb towards Kal, and he snorted before continuing. “You need help, we help. You don’t, we go.” 

His shrug spoke volumes. He didn’t care what they said, he’d heard her father waking her up. He knew they did need the help, but he wasn’t going to push if they didn’t want to admit it. The real reason he was out there had more to do with his shirtless state than his hearing. You could say anything you wanted to a frightened man and girl, but showing took less time, and was more likely to be believed. And as he turned back to the trailer, dismissing the lot of them with another glare for Kal, the heavy, coarse hair growing along his spine bristled when he rolled his shoulders, bringing up a hand to wriggle a finger in his ear.

Clearing his throat in the silence that followed, Kal tried another smile. Friendly, like. “What he said… We uhh, well, we got similar reasons for laying low, see? But being in the area, we just thought y’might, dunno, need a hand, so t’speak. Didn’t mean to be presumptuous or nothing, just wanted to get in ‘fore anyone else, is all.”

He’d lowered his arms by then, and was standing as casually as he could manage with his hands back in his coat pockets, and his expression caught somewhere between apologetic and wary. This part didn’t always go so well, as one white scar on Prhy’s shoulder showed. Folks could deny it for their own kids, but letting mutants, on top of them being strangers, in could be asking too much.