ArchivedLogs:Packing: Difference between revisions

From X-Men: rEvolution
Jump to navigationJump to search
(Created page with "{{ Logs | cast = Daiki Elias, Missy | summary = | gamedate = 2014-04-05 | gamedatename = | subtitle = | location = Elias' Workshop -...")
 
No edit summary
Line 1: Line 1:
{{ Logs
{{ Logs
| cast = [[XS_NPCs|Daiki]] [[NPC-Elias|Elias]], [[NPC-Elias|Missy]]
| cast = [[XS_NPCs|Daiki]], [[NPC-Elias|Elias]], [[NPC-Elias|Missy]]
| summary =  
| summary =  
| gamedate = 2014-04-05
| gamedate = 2014-04-05

Revision as of 05:23, 6 April 2014

Packing
Dramatis Personae

Daiki, Elias, Missy

In Absentia


2014-04-05


'

Location

Elias' Workshop - South Hill, NY


Elias' workshop takes over the entire top floor of a large house in South Hill, NY. To call the building a simple house is a misnomer, as the sprawling Victorian could easily be divided up into three or four apartments, should the appropriate kitchens be built. The top floor space is large and spacious, with many windows and skylights letting in as much natural light as possibly while preserving the architectural feel between the eaves and gables of the fine house. The floors are hardwood and the walls pretty basic white, with large bolts of fabric and many supply closets lending breaks to the stark interior. There are two work tables and a line of dressforms along with rolling closet rods filled with whatever the designer has been working on today. There is also a wall of sewing machines lined up, each performing a slightly different task than the others, each unique in its own way.

Elias didn't come down to the house last night to greet Missy and Daiki when they arrived, leaving them to their own devices, which generally include business meetings and home cooking by Elias' mother. The night ticked on and concluded and the morning arrived. The wiry man appears downstairs around breakfast time, taking only a couple of the waffles in hand (already laced with syrup) and a large cup of coffee. He doesn't stay. He just tells the other two to come up when they are done, kisses his mother on the cheek and then disappears upstairs once more.

Upstairs, Elias has been busy. There are four different extended wracks of clothes, one for each of the intended recipients - except one seems to be shared, and one just made up of thick, dense black clothing, made more for utility than appearance.

The first rack, nearest to the entry stairway is for a small body, but contains only the finest of suits, four different suiting materials worked into at least nine different combinations with a veritable rainbow of collared shirts in both long and short sleeves. There are a couple hats and several custom ordered shoes beneath.

The next rack is full of all of the colors of the rainbow, again for a small body. There are dresses and slacks, leggings and tunics, things directly from his clubbing line, tailored smaller and adjusted to keep pressure off of different parts of the intended body. There are also some more mundane things interspersed, allowing the owner to tone things up and down depending on the day's mood. This rack contains far more shoes, many different styles meant to fit a very particular foot, in all different heights of heel as well as some very basic sensible shoes (and boots!) for when the mood hits.

The third rack is more of a happy family combination, with several small pieces of clothing, for a child not more than seven to ten, focusing a little less on the casual and more on the dressed up needs of a kid that age, with maybe one formal suit. Then the clothes turn into adult sized, and are composed primarily of jeans, pants and under shirts, some long sleeved and some short sleeved. They are full of color, but are definitely meant to highly another garment instead of being worn alone. Finally, it appears that the first and second rack bled into the third, stretched and moulded to accommodate a full grown adult, rather than the slim proportion of the other. There are nice suits (three!) with some shirts to be worn with them, a few hats and shoes, but also a good deal of the extremely colorful and interesting clothing, stuff that sparkles and looks great under a black light.

Eli is wiping his hands on a damp towel near a small sink, removing what remains of the waffle syrup. When the others join him, he raises an eyebrow. "Oh. Good," He speaks, his voice quiet and rough. "I might have made too much. If you see anything any of them won't like, please pull it."

Daiki is quiet, as he slips up the stairs to join Elias. He's just nibbling on the last of a waffle, quietly savouring it. He's dressed, as he usually is, quietly elegant, a long silver-bordered white tunic paired with dark slacks. Currently he's sucking a spot of syrup off the tip of his finger, dark eyes flicking from one rack of clothing to the next; he drifts further into the room with quiet appraisal. "Too much? Given the intended recipients, I'm -- not quite sure there is such thing." He meanders slowly down one rack, lips twitching upward slightly. "I do like this collar. I think he'll enjoy the new style."

"Hm. Well, there's the balance of the gift with who the giver is," Eli replies quietly, moving over to follow Daiki's inspection. "Good. I used what you suggested as measurements and added an inch inside the seams in case either of us underestimated." His left hand stuff deeply into the pocket of his jeans, while the right lifts a coffee mug to his lips. He then sits back on a stool, quietly observing and drinking the blessed morning beverage.

A moment later, the loud clunking of Missy's shoes can be heard on the stairs, her blonde head appearing a moment later. The tresses are done up in ringlet pig tails at the side of her head, her clothes tending toward practical today, slim jeans and a light knit tunic in a bold green blue that is constantly sliding off one shoulder. "Ah. Good. The boxes have arrived for packing. I think we're going to have the most problem with the kevlar."

"It's been a rough time," Daiki answers Elias, his hands folding behind his back. "I think a little bit of kindness -- will be appreciated. B, especially --" He trails from one rack of clothing to the next, eyes dancing along the more colourful fabrics. "It has been /very/ rough. Even before the fire. Not to be hirself --" His eyes drop to the ground, breath exhaled slowly. "I don't think B even knows what that means, yet, I admit. But I think /you've/ captured it very well. These -- are." His head tips, slightly, to one side. His smile is small, quick, and then fades. "Lively. /Warm/."

He turns on his heels, hands still folded behind his back. "Missy. I think we can manage. We have packed it before. And it will come -- in handy. Did you know that Dusk --" He hesitates, brows knitting together. His eyes flick over Elias, ticking up over his posture, stopping when he meets the older man's eyes. "Sir." His tone is softer, here. "Not to be /yourself/ is a difficult thing."

"Hirself," Elias raises an eyebrow, studying Daiki, a spark of interest in his gaze. "Is this... new? I know I try not to ask about them much - but I at least want to know about things like that. I definitely wish to respect how they all wish to present." He looks down at his coffee, cradled now between two hands, the surface swirling with small bubbles, heat, and cream.

"It's just heavier. I understand its importance and I know it's important to keep it secret and safe, but I do get to complain from time to time about the weight, okay?" Missy winks at Daiki as she drags out two of the rolling trunks from the lift platform, pulling them to the center of the room and letting them down carefully. "What do you want to pack first? Hm? Dusk? I've met him. Hard not to. He's so friendly and we can actually talk boring shop talk and sewing techniques." She doesn't seem to notice when Daiki turns away again.

Eli does. He lifts his gaze when Daiki's stature changes his head tilting a little in a curious expression. "Yes. It is difficult. Did something happen to Dusk?"

"Very friendly," Daiki agrees with Missy, a little wistfully. "I don't think he finds anything boring. -- It will be new," he says with a small twitch of smile, almost, perhaps, amused. "Very soon. Identity is a challenging question." The smile fades again. There's a /ripple/, a shiver of stronger /tug/ that comes in time with a spike of worry from Daiki, the murmured acknowledgment: "Dusk is in trouble. There has been -- trouble in the city, again. Abductions --" He shakes his head, slightly. "Forgive me. That is not -- what I meant to bring up. I only wanted to say -- that I believe I may know someone who might help. You." There's a very faint flush that creeps into his cheeks. "It would be expensive. But he works miracles with reconstructing brains."

Elias seems a bit distant once Daiki starts to worry, more so than normal, a willful response to the tug of the younger man's mutation. His expression looks half dead and his eyes entirely out of focus. He swallows hard and nods absently, hands moving his coffee to his lips to sip mechanically. "I understand," he replies at first. The depth his attention has sunken away does mean it takes longer for the second part of Daiki's statement to begin to catch up to him. He looks up, confused, his brows knit together and his eyes narrowed on the teen. "Reconstructing... Huh."

"Really? Someone who reconstructs brains? Are we talking surgical or chemical? Invasive or passive?" Missy zeros in on Eli's confusion, almost forming the words he's struggling with for him. "Not sure that Eli would be up for anything invasive, but he'd need to know more." She has managed to pack half of the kevlar suits into the trunks so far, throwing the latch on one and pushing and prodding inside the second to see how much room is left. "Dusk is getting help, right? I'm sure we'd all love to pitch in -" Her fingers curl hard into a roll of kevlar padding, her expression serious. "I hate that this shit never seems to end."

"Chemical." The tug weakens as Daiki drifts away, focusing instead on helping Missy to finish packing. "He does it through use of his mutation. How invasive is that? He needs only hold your hand," Daiki explains mildly. "I really do think he could help. He's helped people out of quite severe situations before." His eyes fix down on the trunks, breath slowly drawn in at the question of Dusk. "I'm not sure how to help. As you say, it -- never seems to end. People are searching. That seems to be all anyone can do, just right now."

"Our thoughts and prayers are with him. Maybe that'll help some how. You never know with people these days. They could develop empathy based tracking or guided hope energy receptors and use that to power their way out of a shitty situation." Missy is packing with emphasis now, making sure to thump down those dratted kevlar suits in so they fit. She has to loosen up when she finishes that rack and opens up a new trunk for the actual clothing. "Let's get this stuff packed up and then maybe we can glance down a few alleys with the search parties. More eyes and all that."

Elias is somewhat quiet still, moving over to one of the suitcases to pack, giving himself time to process before admitting. "Yeah. That sounds good. Set up an appointment, Dai, when you've got a chance."

Daiki dips his head in a bow, turning his attention back to the packing of the clothes. "He lives in Greenwich," he adds softly. And, under his breath: "It might be good to return home."