ArchivedLogs:House Crashing

House Crashing
Thomas Wolfe was sort of right....
Dramatis Personae Doug, Joshua, Mirror, Parley
In Absentia	2013-03-09 Doug gets surprise visitors and new roommates!
Location <NYC> 503 {Doug} - Village Lofts - East Village
This apartment is, for the most part, laid out like most of the others in the building. A small entryway opens up into a living area occupied by a worn-looking leather sofa covered in a multi-colored afghan. In front of that, a low cost-effective coffee table is generallly littered with tech and gaming magazines, post-it flags stuck to various pages. The kitchen is separated from the living area by a bar-island with two high stools. Down a small hallway, two doors stand face to face, vigilant in keeping the bedrooms beyond secure, while a third, facing the living room, leads to the bathroom. Throughout the apartment, various gaming posters have been framed and hung carefully, most of them classic arcade titles. Saturdays are all right for...cleaning. Especially if you're a big computer geek who takes care of his stuff. Doug is currently in the midst of what looks to be Spring Cleaning, with cushions pulled from the couch, and stuff pulled out of closets to be gone through. A couple of boxes near the door are simply labeled 'give to Jax', although they appear to belong more to Alt and Delete, who swat and pounce at each other from the varying levels offered. Doug himself is in the middle of vacuuming out the couch, dressed in a pair of snug-fitting sweatpants and a blue mid-riff t-shirt that reads 'I'm BIG in Japan' across the chest. The blonde works industriously, pushing the vacuum hose into the crack of the sofa and wincing as rattling indicates the location of loose change. On the iPod dock, his phone offers some sort of...well, it's /technically/ music. Brian Eno's 'Music for Airports', to be exact. It'd be peaceful, save for the vacuuming. And the pouncing. It's about to get less peaceful. There is a voice coming down the hallway, a neighbor, perhaps, talking: "-- be /nice/ to finally be back, and, hey, if you guys want to --" And then there is little warning before suddenly that voice is /inside/ Doug's apartment. "-- crash for a -- wooooah." The man recently arrived is tall, tan-skinned, dark hair cropped close to his head, athletic. Dressed blandly in sweatpands and a black t-shirt, and he brings two others in tow. Also he's /staring/ at Doug in startled confusion. Together with Joshua is a young woman, dark-skinned, dark-haired, short and bone-thin. She is looking around the apartment curiously, stopping to focus on the cats. Then on Doug. She edges towards the door, slightly. "What's he doing here?" The third member of the spontaneous party is a short Japanese man, dressed in similar t-shirt and sweatpants. Maybe they're all part of a yoga team. He fixes his eyes on Doug, instantly falling into... default... blankness? Staring? FIXED GAZE? The tawny-spotty fur lining up the back of his neck stands up partially. This is when a cat's tail would be half-bushed. Not full poof. "Do you not -- know him?" It is kismet that Doug is shutting off the vacuum just as the trio appears in the living room and Alt takes off in a calico streak for the bedroom. Delete, however, is content to STARE at the interlopers, blinking owlishly first at the woman, then at the...cousin? There's a clench of fear in Doug's chest as he leaps up ripping the pipe from the hose and rounding on the invaders, wielding anodized, chrome-plated aluminum like a samurai sword. "Who -- " he raises the pipe a bit higher, making it more club-like. He's not going down without a good showing, no matter how many of them there are, it's clear. "Explanations," he offers in his best New Yorker growl. "Fast. Or I start making like Jeter up in here." Startled, Joshua lifts a hand, the pipe pulled suddenly out of Doug's hand to just hover in the air between them instead. "Sorry, uh, this is 503, yeah?" He's looking around the apartment. Still confused. "What's Jeter?" Mirror asks, eying the pipe as it is yanked and edging back towards the door another step. Not so much nervous as just exhaustedly uninterested in /confrontation/. "I don't think they know each other," she offers so-helpfully. "Maybe he's in the wrong place." "We'll leave," Parley is backing up with Mirror now, his head slightly ducked to break up the direct eye contact, though not so far that he can't keep an eye on that pipe. "--Joshua." It's not quite a plea, but it's slightly tense from his own stone-washed and tired features. What. The fuck. When the pipe is wrested from Doug's hand, his eyes go wide, and he yelps as he scrambles towards the iPod dock. He pulls short, when the apartment number is mentioned, jerking like a marionette having its strings pulled suddenly, and turns slowly, gaze focusing on each of the three carefully before sliding back to the taller man. There's a twitch of recognition that fades almost immediately. "It is," he says carefully, clenching his fists and visibly (and mentally) steeling himself. "And the door was locked." He glances at the other two, frowning. "Who /are/ you guys?" "I'm /not/ in the wrong place, I /live/ here." Joshua doesn't sound confrontational now so much as just tired and -- almost a little petulant. I want to go /hooome/. He rubs a hand against his face, and turns towards the door. "Sorry," he at least remembers to say, "I think I -- maybe I --" These thoughts don't finish, just suffused with a slow dragging exhaustion. "C'mon." "We don't want trouble." Parley leans in nearer Joshua as he begins to come along, touching his arm gently as they withdraw. He asks quietly, leaning his head nearer, "--how long exactly have you been gone?" "He doesn't seem to think so," Mirror says, frowning at Doug and moving to open the door. "You know," she says, as if this is only just dawning on her with Parley's question, "The world does change." "Wait." Doug holds up a hand to stop the egress, his brain struggling to sift through /something/; the effort is visible on his face. "/Joshua/?" he repeats, finally, as if hearing the name /just now/. He blinks, and steps forward. "Joshua who used to live here, /Joshua/? Who disappeared last year? Jackson's friend?" /Now/ things are starting to fall into place, and the change is immediate as Doug gives a whoop, and leaps forward, arms flung out as if to grab the man in a big hug. "Holy /shit/! You're /alive/!" He does not hug, to his credit, instead latching on to Joshua's arm and attempting to drag him back. "Fuck leaving. Come in. I've been hoping to meet you!" He waves at the other two. "Come on, you too. I've got...well, not as much food as Jax, but I've got stuff to eat." He's already heading back towards the kitchen, dragging Joshua along if he doesn't pull away. "Thank Zeus they found you," he says as he goes. "Are you guys okay? Do you need anything?" Joshua turns back to face Doug, tensing immediately when his arm is latched onto. His eye widens, startled expression skipping between Doug and the door, but what he latches onto in all this is: "You know Jax?" He's reticent to be dragged, not pulling away but only moving very slowly, throwing his companions a look mingled bemused and apologetic. "We're -- no, we don't -- I mean, there's been food -- who are you? I mean, this is my a-- was my apartment." Only now does he frown at Mirror. "I -- don't know," he admits. "Since -- July? Maybe." Parley's hand falls off Joshua's arm when Doug jumps forward, curling it against his abdomen and stepping /back/ another step when Joshua is pulled forward. He falls in ranks beside Mirror, casting her an uncertain look, then swallowing and looking back again. He licks his lips, head still slightly ducked down. "-um." "When is it /now/?" Mirror asks, glancing at the window. "Winter." She doesn't head farther into the apartment, just staying by the door, very still. "How long," she asks Doug, quiet and a little hesitant, "have /you/ been here?" "It's March 9th," Doug answers the woman first, releasing Joshua's arm once it's apparent he isn't leaving. "And I'm Doug Ramsey. I've been living here since the start of the spring semester." He moves into the kitchen, rummaging in cabinets and producing glasses -- all four with various cartoon characters on them -- to set on the counter. "I've known Jackson about that long," he says, closing one eye. "Maybe since February? I was kind of busy that first month." Opening the fridge produces a pitcher of what appears to be kool-aid. Purple kool-aid. "I actually helped find you guys," he says. "Though we weren't sure..." he trails off, and lifts a shoulder, smiling as he pours out. "But you're here now!" Joshua stops moving once he's released, standing a little awkwardly in the center of the apartment. For a moment, at least, and then he's drifting, almost without thinking, around the perimeter of the apartment, examining walls, examining furniture, examining posters. "You helped?" This sounds uncertain. "Weren't what?" He looks back to the pair towards the door. "Sorry, guys. We can -- there's space upstairs." Lurking by the door for a moment longer in carefully neutral posture, Parley glances a final peek from Mirror to Joshua while murmuring, "March..." He takes in a slow breath, and then, crossing his arms, he directs his eyes downwards at his bare feet to watch them take a few slow steps forward. It directs in the straightest vector to lurk near Joshua awkwardly. "Mh-." He looks at the windows as well, then at the drinks Doug is pouring, venturing carefully, "-- what is that?" Mirror stares at the drink. She does not move from her position by the door, backing up against it when Parley steps away. "March what?" She eyes the drink like she is highly suspicious of it. "This, my friend," Doug says to the Japanese man, offering him a glass, "Is a wondrous beverage known as grape-apple juice. I only recently discovered it when I grabbed the wrong bottle at the market." The other glass is offered to the woman with a wide smile as he answers Joshua. "Yeah. Part of my abilities is that I'm like a computer ninja? So I was able to do some snooping for Jax, to see if we could figure out what happened to you." His mouth pulls tight to one side. "They disappeared you pretty good, but not /that/ good." The woman gets a sympathetic press of lips. "March 9th. Might not look like it's almost Spring, but the weather's been /crazy the last couple of months." "Like a computer ninja." Joshua echoes this quietly. Still drifting. Exploring this not-his-apartment shamelessly. "Useful." He glances to Parley, to Mirror, "-- How long were you --?" This trails off. He goes back to drifting. "Doug. What do you do?" Perfectly calm, his free hand remaining curled against his abdomen, Parley closes fingers loosely around the outheld glass, and supports its weight when Doug releases his grip. And then just stands there, holding it silently and with a blank expectation on his face. Relaxed, in its own way, but seeming to be waiting for something else. His eyes slowly rotate towards Joshua, face and body remaining forward and directed towards Doug, "--how long?" "No, I mean, March --" Mirror's hand gestures vaguely in the air. She just eyes the glass for a long moment, and takes it. Doesn't sip. Her hand clenches around it tight. "Your abilities. You're one, too?" The apartment holds many clues to the level of tech nerd Doug is: an iPad, an open laptop that reveals a weird-looking spreadsheet and some function clearly running in a little clock box in the corner. An X-Box and a stack of video games...a stack of books that's primarily computer coding and language books...comic books mixed into the usual magazines. Doug frowns at Joshua's question, returning for his own glass of juice. "How long was I what?" he asks, picking up the glass and sipping at the juice. This may or may not be to prove its safety on top of slaking his thirst. "As to what I do...it depends on what you mean? For a living? I'm a full-time student who occasionally does some web design or IT work." He nods at Mirror. "Yep. I can understand and communicate in any language, including computer languages. If it's got a rudimentary syntax, I comprehend it." "Not you, them," Joshua murmurs, half to himself. Half to the stack of video games. "Oh. Not a technopath. A polyglot. Also useful." He's examining the video games with a frown. "There used to be a table here --" He shakes his head abruptly. "Sorry," he says to Doug, with a crooked smile. "I didn't mean to just drop in. I guess I didn't realize how long it had -- I didn't realize there'd be -- sorry." "Probably if you are studying languages." Mirror sounds a little wistful. "Or working on computers. I'd love to --" She considers Doug for a moment and then, suddenly, is shifting, taller, paler, a little more muscled. And then /Doug/ is standing there in Mirror's sweatpands and t-shirt, by the door, considering the apartent thoughtfully. "I don't know," she answers Joshua. "A while." "Not a technopath, technically," Doug says, "but when I get into a computer system, it's less typing than, say, you would normally need. It's like I can rearrange the stuff just by convincing the computer that it's always been like that." He lifts a shoulder at Parley, scrunching his nose. "It really does," he admits. "Studies are always helped by practical experience." He waves a hand at the apology. "Hey, it's no worries. You couldn't have known. I'm sorry I got all 'not in my house' on you." He frowns, mildly, and looks down the hall. "There's a bed in the spare room, if you want it. It's big enough for two." Another hand wave at the couch. "And the couch is very comfortable, as I've been informed by my friend Shelby. You guys are welcome to stay here as long as you nee--" he breaks off as his attention comes back to the room, and he's...there? There's a slow blink. "Wow. That's...both impressive and unsettling," he says, then looks a bit dismayed. "Does my mouth /really/ look like that?" Parley consults Joshua with a quick side-glance for the invication, and then drops his head, watching the room through his eyebrows. He withdraws with slow, liquid steps to stands nearer to Mirror, an unconscious disintegration of his presence settling him further to the edges of peripheral awareness. "What's it like?" he whisper-asks, both hands folded around the glass now, fingers lacing. "You're like that exactly," Joshua says, and if he's impressed by the change it doesn't show. "It's okay. It's --" He's looking at one of the bedrooms, his shoulders stiffening. "It's your house now." Though this comes with a sharp pang of something hollow and aching beneath his words. He swallows it back down. "I should have known. It had been a long time. I should get back to -- there's a lot of people who -- sorry. To interrupt your Saturday." "Clearer," Mirror answers, in Doug's voice, and then, with the first smile she -- he? -- has had since arriving: "-- So, I guess, like talking to you. I imagine your mouth looks like mine. Are we interrupting your weekend? We should let you to your --" He eyes the vacuum. "Plans." "I'm serious, Joshua. You should stay." Doug lifts his eyebrows at the taller man, and puts his hands on his hips. "You've been through...a lot, and you used to live here. I think it's important that you stay somewhere that's familiar." He presses his lips tight as he looks around the place, his gaze coming back to rest on Mirror-Doug. "I mean, it doesn't look like your place, /now/, but --" He breaks off, pointing at the boxes. "Hey! It can look /kind/ of like your place! I found that stuff in the back of the closet. I bet it's yours." Because the super is exactly the sort of person who'd leave boxes in a closet for someone else to get rid of. "You're all welcome to stay," he continues, grinning at Mirror. "I'm just glad I /did/ clean up! Imagine how embarassed I'd have been if you'd found dirty clothes everywhere or something." "Thank you," Joshua says, stopped near one of the windows to look out at the city. He turns away to look towards the boxes, surprised, and moves towards one, looking down into it but not actually touching any of the things. "Clearer?" He glances over towards Mirror and Parley, a curious look in his eyes. "Oh, wow. Yeah. I -- it's weird, those are very different, but they'd both -- clarify. That's --" He looks back down to the boxes. "Interesting." "{Do you want to test it?}" murmuring in Japanese, Parley studies Mirror-Doug's face, his empathy making small, thoughtful nudges at the parts that are steadily Mirror, sunken beneath the new parts that are /not/. The DougBits. His eyes raise to Joshua when he speaks, and then lower again, to the glass's grapey contents, "Clarity can be a valuable commodity. It must give you an advantage in your field, Doug."" The DougBits are forefront, as they generally are when changing shape, but Mirror's mind is familiar underneath, cautious, curious, thoughtful. "Test -- yes. {Yes. This -- strange.}" It doesn't quite come fluidly, slow and a little hesitant. "{You -- are understandable. Always, though. Bad -- test,}" Mirror answers, with a slight curl of a smile. And then, in English, those DougBits surfacing higher: "But -- Saturday. I -- uh, you. Have a -- plans. Date. We're interfering. We should," back away towards the door. Except Mirror's already there. He rests a hand on the doorknob, his untouched juice still in his hand. "Oh, gosh," Doug says, his tone fascinated when Mirror mimicks his ability, as well. He actually leans forward curiously, wrinkling his nose with a small grin. "It's like reading a book under water, right? At first?" He nods. "It gets more clear, the more of it you hear, until it's just /flowing/." The revelation of his plans causes his ears to pinken, and he wrinkles his nose. "Wow. You get it all, don't you?" He doesn't seem overly embarassed, otherwise. Parley gets a grin, and he lifts a shoulder. "{Clarity and comprehension are not always the same thing,}" he replies in Japanese. "{It helps as much as it can.}" He waves a hand at the apartment, switching to English. "I've got a couple of hours. You guys really don't have to go. You need a place to crash, and I've got the room. Really, it'll be no bother." The Japanese flows over Joshua without comprehension, but he does offer a smile at the offer. "Do you guys -- I mean, you have to be beat," he says, to Joshua and Mirror. And silently: << If he's Jax's friend and helped him find us he's gotta be safe. >> He at least is exhausted, rather tempted by the thought of a bed in a familiar apartment that is not surrounded by people who imminently need his help. "--'as much as it can'." Parley translates Doug's words reflex, his eyes still lowered and, while he speaks in a quiet, unassuming tone, the sentiment is rich with Doug's own, overshadowing his obfuscated presence until Doug may as well /be/ speaking English, and Parley were not involved at all. His eyes travel from Joshua to Mirror to Doug again, and, ducking his head just slightly lower, "-- I. Think I would still like to explore the building, still. If that's alright. I haven't seen the roof yet." Though he doesn't rush out the door, only slowly extending the glass of juice towards Doug. "I need sleep," Mirror says uncertainly -- almost apologetically, with a look to Parley. << You'll be back? >> "If you're sure it's no trouble --?" "Wow!" Doug is just as impressed with Parley's talent, and he grins widely. "That is an /amazing/ ability." This is said with all the admiration it appears to carry, and he reaches for the glass. "Should be all right to poke around," he says. "The people in this building are pretty cool, and the garden area on the roof is kind of cool." When it looks like people will be staying, he grins widely. "Awesome. There are spare blankets and pillows in the closet in the sp...other bedroom," he says helpfully, waving a hand. "For whoever gets the couch. And you guys are welcome to anything you'd like to eat. And there's clean towels under the sink in the bathroom...." It goes on like that for some time, Doug seeing that each roomie is settled before he disappears into his room to prepare for his date. Poor Micah. Logan's Run and Planet of the Apes have /nothing/ on this afternoon. "-- I've had a lot of practice," Parley answers gently. << In a little while. >> Is said to Mirror, and, relieved of his glassy burden, he slips out the door and into the quiet all. Leaning a shoulder nearly against the wall, he creeps off on padding bare feet towards the stairs.