Jones brothers

This page can be used to refer to Jackson and Logan Jones, the Rangers of Team Vulcan Specter.
==Headcanons==
Logan's song: Pretty Girls Make Graves’ “All Medicated Geniuses" 
==Scraps==
==='napped===
Cut: 
"Where. Is. He," spits Jackson, as his Logan brain settles into a steady throb.
.
=== Scar ===
Date/Timing: shortly after Jackson talks Logan into joining him with the PPDC in Dec 2015
"What've you been doing the last year?"
Logan shrugs. "Stuff."
"Oh for—what sort of 'stuff'?"
"We're both better off with you not knowing."
"So, the usual, ay?"
"Yep."
"What part of 'the usual' messed up your face?"
"Walked into a door."
Jack lowers his chin.
"It was a very sharp door."
"Logan."
Logan huffs. "Got jumped by a knife-wielding maniac—"
"Jesus."
"—and didn't break his arm fast enough—"
"/Jesus."
"—but you better believe I'm a hell of a lot faster now."
"You ... you are completely /crazy."
"That's sorta the definition of 'never been right in the head'."
Jack groans, drags a hand down his face.
===Schoolyard===
"Imma /kill him!"
"Jack! Stop! It was a long time ago 'n the asshole's good 'n dead."
"Did you?"
"/No. Did himself in. Drink."
"Why din't ye say anythin'?"
"Would you have?"
Jackson's boots are /fascinating. "I'm sor--"
"Shut it. It's over 'n now ye know. Nothin' ye can do 'bout it now. Nothin' ye coulda done then, either--ye were jest a kid."
"So were you."
===Tumble===
December 2024; Pittsburgh, PA, United States (it didn't quite fit in "Carnegie Mellon scraps")
Jackson finishes the last in the current stack of papers, pushes his chair back, stands.
Old leg: a bit twitchy.
New leg: can't tell where the foot is.
Takes a step.
Old leg spasms, throws his balance out; he tilts, flails for the edge of the desk, misses, sends the chair scooting away, goes down. 
Landing's awkward; new leg's biting into his knee and there's gonna be a bruise on his hip.
Grits his teeth, pushes himself to sitting, adjusts the new leg.
Deep breaths.
The pain retreats.
Now how's he gonna get back up?
Old leg's still twitching so he won't be using it to push himself up. Not good enough with the new leg to use it instead.
Arms, then. The desk's the closest, but that surface is awful high and his upper body strength already ain't what it used to be, but it's worth a shot.
Cautiously pulls himself up.
Arms give way and dump him back on the ground just as someone strolls in.
Logan's beside him in a heartbeat, concern all over his face.
"'m fine." Jackson swats at him.
Logan retreats a step.
"Jest took a li'l tumble."
"Chair-bound?" whispers Logan.
"Couch."
Logan lifts from under his shoulders, gets one of Jackson's arms around his neck, and eases him off the floor.
Jackson heaves his legs onto the couch and oozes against the cushions.
Logan liberates pillows from the nest and arranges them behind him.
"Thanks," murmurs Jackson.
Thumbs up.
Jackson relaxes, maybe dozes for a few moments.
Gets a poke in the nose.
Cracks open an eye.
Logan pushes a neat stack of bluebooks into his hands, pulls a blue pen from behind his ear, offers it.
Jackson sighs, takes the pen, sets to work marking essays.
Logan squeezes his foot, heads off to work on the sims.
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