ArchivedLogs:Making Lives

Making Lives
Dramatis Personae Lucien, Jackson, Micah
In Absentia	Tuesday, 10 March 2015 Future dreams! (Part of the Future Past TP.)
Location <NYC> The Music Box Theatre - Midtown
It is growing late on a Tuesday night -- not the /most/ boisterous weekday to be out and about, but down around the theatres there's always a healthy crowd as it grows into an hour for the shows to be letting out. Outside the Music Box Theatre there's still a healthy milling crowd; /Pippin/ has recently finished, and many people are still lingering outside, chatting or waiting for taxis. Lucien, for his part, is exiting a side door, stage makeup cleaned off. He's traded Pippin's clothing for his own, jeans, a long-sleeved black button down, a lightweight suede jacket over top, and though after an entire performance he looks rather /exhausted/, a little droopy, a little sweaty, there's still a faint smile on his face as he tugs his phone out of his pocket to check its messages. Jackson is astoundingly un-droopy at the moment. Also astoundingly un-colourful, knee-high black boots, black pants tucked down into them, a silver jacket over a (faintly silvery-pinstriped) black button-down, dyed-black hair falling floppy over the rims of his sunglasses. In his hand there is a bouquet of -- small glass snowdrops, carefully crafted and pearly-petaled. Despite the lack of colour there's no end of /exuberance/ as he bounces over to /intercept/ Lucien's stealthy side-exit with an enormous HUG and a presentation of Glass Bouquet. "Oh. My. /Gosh/. I had heard /so many good things/ but -- but ohmygosh with everythin' goin' on I hadn't had a /chance/ t'see for myself there was /no/ part'a that that was not fantastic. /You/ were fantastic. That was -- that might be the greatest show I done seen in /forever/." Micah is looking rather neater than usual, particularly for late on a weeknight. His auburn hair maintains some of its combed-straightness (some), jade green button-down shirt tucked neatly into dark grey slacks. He leads (or is led by...there is definite leading going on) Jax over toward the side door for the express purpose of intercepting Lucien there. The relative neatness of his appearance is offset by a widening, bright, lopsided grin as they approach. "Hey there, big star fella. Congratulations, that was a wonderful...slightly creepy, but completely wonderful show." He moves in for a hug with a slight lifting of his eyebrows for permission in advance. "You hungry after all that or just lookin' t'get home an' rest?" There's a beat of hesitation but then Lucien's smile brightens, at this interception. He tucks his phone back into his jacket pocket, reaching up an arm to return Jackson's hug firmly. He takes the snowdrops in one hand, his other arm curling around Micah for a second hug. "Ravenous, really. Matt has the kids tonight. I have time for food." He glances over Jackson for a moment, then past him towards the milling crowd around front. "If you do, at least. Where is best for /you/ to go?" He glances down at the snowdrops in his hand, a warmer cast to his expression at this. "Oh --" Jackson rocks back on a heel, shaking his head with a small laugh. "I /am/ an illusionist, y'know. We can go anywhere y'like, /I/ blend in easy enough when I'm /tryin'/, we won't get no hassle. How's --" For a moment he tips his head downward, a faint ripple of tension running through his posture. "Matt's doin' alright?" He looks back up, smile still firmly in place. "An' the little'uns?" Micah's head tilts forward to nuzzle briefly against Lucien's shoulder with the hug. "Think he mighta been askin' 'bout what places work for you s'far as havin' vegan food that we can afford, too. On top of the whole notoriety issue." The fingers of one hand tickle lazily at the front of Jax's shirt. Hazel eyes tip skyward for a moment, thoughtful. "So, as it turns out the only thing I can think of off the top of my head in this area that's vegan friendly is that hot dog place the twins like." He nods a seconding of Jax's question. "How /is/ the family lately?" "I did /also/ want to know where we can go that won't get him shot," Lucien says with quiet amusement. He steps back, holding the bouquet close to his chest. "Mmm. Dogtown? /I/ can eat there, as well. Delightful." He eschews the crowd outside the front of the theatre, electing to turn the opposite way down the side street -- a /little/ bit of a detour, it is a straighter shot to just cut through the crowd to Dogtown, but. Crowds. Likely to hold up either him or Jackson. The question of Matt earns a very small tug at his lips, slightly downward at Jackson's tension. "Matt is -- well enough. It has been quite a year. He's adjusting, sometimes, still, I think. The children are --" Now his smile is wryer. "Still young." Jax lifts his hand, slipping it into Micah's. His fingers twine with his husband's as he starts off after Lucien -- as they head back towards a main street there are a host of small changes to his appearance. Hair shortening a touch, lightening to a sandy brown, jaw squaring, piercings all vanishing save his bottom-most pair of earrings. His smile doesn't fade at Lucien's answer, but his fiercely warm hand squeezes fiercely /tighter/ in Micah's. "Has been, kinda," he answers sometimes. "Think it's sorta a long-road adjustment for alla us." There's somewhat less /bounce/ to his step, head tipping back to regard what can be seen of the sky through Midtown's tall buildings. "Oh, gosh, but they get older. I can't believe B might be takin' /off/ for far-away lands in the fall." "That's the one," Micah confirms the restaurant's name. "Well is good." He sighs softly. "Young is good... Oh, don't remind me about B. I get a pit in m'stomach whenever I think of hir goin' off by hirself, an' so far." His teeth meet his lower lip, pulling at it a bit. "Y'know, you changin' faces is never gonna feel /not/ strange," he observes as his hand squeezes back against his husband's. "'Specially with the /plain/." "Well /enough/," Lucien reiterates mildly. "Some days --" He shakes his head, glancing back over Jackson's change of appearance. "The black suited you better." He lifts a hand to brush against less-shaggy brown hair. "/You/ suit you better. -- Taking off? Mmm. But Shane is staying behind?" There's curiosity in his voice at this, brows lifting. "I cannot imagine that will be easy for them." "Well, Shane's got Evolve to -- guard." Jax's nose wrinkles up at the mention of the coffee shop. "An' B's still gotta wait t'hear back from college at /all/ but. I don't know. They'll -- manage. Maybe." He wiggles uncertainly at an unseen lip ring with his teeth. His hair tints a few shades darker as Lucien's fingers brush it. "Feels alright t'me," he adds more cheerfully, "/I/ never hafta see it." His brows pull together, and he walks /just/ a little closer to Micah's side. "Some days are -- are always harder'n others. Y'can't really never shake –" Micah just nods at Lucien's correction, moving to rest a hand reassuringly on the other man's back even as the other pulls Jax a little closer to walk beside him. "I can't imagine the two of 'em apart, neither. It's... Ugh. Gotta have a lot of video chats goin' on ev'ry /day/ or somethin'. They ain't hardly been away from each other /ever/." He hmms, regarding the hair change. "Yeah, the darker's definitely better. An' definitely still not as nice as the original." His arm squeezes in around Jax's waist with that. "Should visit with 'im soon. S'nice t'have folks check in from time t'time." "They are -- nominally," Lucien hedges, "sort of adults. And Boston is only a bus ride away." His lips press together at the mention of visiting. "Perhaps." He doesn't sound /entirely/ certain. "I think," he admits softly, "some times he gets somewhat -- shaken, seeing you." He is looking to Jax, with this, more than Micah. He steps up to a curb, tucking his hands into his pockets as he waits for a lull in traffic, crossing against the light. "-- How are things in your – home?" Jax's head bows, fingers squeezing around Micah's again. "I'll send along some cookies," he offers, soft and a little wistful. "An' things are -- it's been safe enough. Kinda just added /security/ detail to our regular chore roster. The buildings, though," now he /definitely/ sounds wistful, "they're built /good/ an' strong." He forces a little more perk into his step, trotting across the street after Lucien. "They're adults who was never children t'/begin/ with. But Shane an' Aly have the shop t'think of an' -- an' /gosh/ if B /could/ go t'school that'd be /brilliant/ so -- I think they'll make it work. /Lotsa/ video calls," he agrees with Micah. "Lotta weekend trips." "/Twin/ adults with rather visible genetic enhancements as've always been kinda...them against the /world/. It's not /terrible/ far, but once y'go gettin' into another state it's always harder t'arrange those visits than it sounds in theory an' it's just not the /same/ as...Jax, make me stop talkin' I'm bein' my momma again." Micah's cheeks suddenly flush a lively cherry red. "I can bring Spence by for a playdate with the little ones soon, then. With cookies," he concedes. "It won't be forever, honey. S'just gotta replace the associations with more positive ones again, over time. Ain't...nothin' personal." Micah frowns at the sudden against-light crossing, trying to pick up his own speed, as well. The mention of the buildings does nothing to lighten the expression, the slightest hint of misting about the eyes even yet. "It's a /good/ place. An' Spence is a wonder, as always." The clouding of his features clears, smile returning at this. "The kinda science experiments we've worked up to, it's a blessin' for our kitchen that the workshop exists. An'...ohgosh, school for B on top of this /project/ for Shane would be. Perfect other than the constant security needs an' the distance issue." "It is dearly impressive what they have /made/ of their lives now, given what they began them with. I think all your children are a bit of a wonder." Lucien drops back to a slower speed once they have finished their jaywalking, offering Micah a quick smile. "That sounds perfect. And he will certainly never say no to your baking, Jackson. I do not think anyone with tastebuds ever does. -- I will have to request no science experiments in /my/ kitchen, though." He says this wryly, but there is some fond amusement there. "It only barely recovered from the last time." "They're -- somethin' special." Jackson's smile returns, and he nudges Lucien gently in the side with an elbow. "Luci-honey, they sure ain't the only ones y'could say that 'bout. /Oh/. Oh gosh." His cheeks flush deep-dark. "What'd they /do/ las' time -- gosh I /tell/ him he ain't supposed to be /cookin'/ nothin' without adults around, tell me there was no fire at least?" His fingers press to his lips, but he might be stifling a giggle. "It is impressive. All three of 'em," Micah echoes with an emphatic nod. "Don't know /how/ it is we managed a whole passel of genius children. Jax knows how t'pick 'em, I guess." He chuckles, trying to look a bit more solemn at the news of Lucien's kitchen but coming somewhat short. "Oh...ohgoodness, I don't think I've /heard/ this story yet. Spence's elected not t'tell it...hm. I hope it wasn't anythin' too outrageous? An' yeah, y'will have t'/request/ it. Or order it. Or /somethin'/ explicit. Spence somehow got this 'better t'ask forgiveness than permission' streak in 'im, an' it's strongest when it comes t'science an' related activities." Jackson's statement actually brings a small flush to Lucien's cheeks; his head bows, slightly, a very small smile curling at his lips. He doesn't answer it, though, sliding along to the next topic with a short breath of laughter. "Only a very /small/ fire. I believe he was -- trying to demonstrate measuring the calories stored in food. It involved burning quite a bit of food, apparently. And a homemade calorimeter. And, ultimately, a small helping of burning my kitchen. Thankfully, my fire alarms are quite sensitive." He stops outside Dogtown, pulling the door open for the others with a sweep of hand to gesture them inside. "I admit his strategy with regards to /permission/ has always been a favoured one of mine. I can hardly find fault." The fingers that Jax has been pressing to his lips turns into an outright smoosh of palm against cheek, fingers curled over one of the lenses of his sunglasses. "Oh /gosh/," he says again, brilliant-deep red still. "Okay-okay, I suppose I'll hafta be /explicit/ that no /cookin'/ nothin' /also/ means no just outright lightin' things on fire." His shoulder bumps lightly up against Micah's. "M'totally shamelessly blamin' /you/ for all science-related mishaps, though. He's your son when he's lightin' things on fire in the name'a science." Though this blaming comes with a light peck on the cheek, Jax's hand squeezing lightly at Micah's as he happily bounces inward towards warmth and food.