ArchivedLogs:Should

Should
Dramatis Personae Flicker, Jax, Shane
In Absentia	2015-04-14 "I'll become a doctor and you become a virtuoso violinist, okay?"
Location <NYC> {Geekhaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
There's an open airy feel to the floorplan of this unit. The door opens up into a wide expanse of common space that is not so much divided up into rooms as it is simply multipurposed. Ash-grey resin flooring underfoot runs up against the paler grey of the exposed stone in the walls; between the stone support there are wide floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the river on one side of the home and the Commons' central yard on the other. Half of the space has a ceiling at one-floor height, though half of the space is left open with a balcony up on the second floor overlooking the living space below. A slatted stairway heads up to the second floor balcony; on the other side of the room, a fireman's pole running straight down to the basement provides a quicker way /down/. The wide open space here is combination living and dining room; in a recessed pit near the windows there are a pair of couches and large armchair around a wide coffeetable; further off a steel-and-glass dining table is surrounded by eight tall black chairs. A full bathroom behind the stairway is done up in dark granite; the glass-doored bathtub/shower is rather expansively large. The kitchen is tucked off in back, beneath the half-height ceiling; in here the appliances and cabinets and shelving recessed into the wall are in brushed steel, wide grey sweeps of tempered glass countertops running around the edge of the room and a large central island holding stoves and oven and deep double sink. Adjacent to the kitchen, beneath the ceiling as well, is a sitting area structured largely around the enormous television against one wall, a wealth of video games for a number of consoles held on the shelves around the television. Crates and beanbags and one low futon folded against the floor are arranged in good viewing distance; opposite the television, a sturdy large pen built out of wood shrines a couch amid a sea of brightly colorful playpen balls. A door in one wall opens up to the apartment next door; a door opposite leads down to the basement. Game nights, lately, have been a pretty small and low-key affair, when they happen at all. With Hive out of commission Flicker kind of over-taxed between recovering from surgery and rehab and schoolwork it's mostly been hit or miss if Geekhaus is really /up/ for the partying from week to week. Flicker is definitely up for the company this week, though -- but maybe a little bit less on top of actually being any sort of organized. It's nearing gaming hour, at least, and he's only just even getting /home/, still in his Clinic uniform though he's been to therapy after his shift. He looks a little tired. A little bit frazzled. A little bit -- "... was supposed to pick up dinner," he is muttering to himself with a small grimace as he flits in the door, dropping his backpack on the floor. Flicker might be kind of a Frazzled Mess, but inside Geekhaus it is spotless-clean. Shane is in the dining room just busy finishing up sweeping the floor into a dustpan. The surfaces have all been cleaned off and wiped down, the rooms arranged, the kitchen scrubbed. "Think my pa's got that handled," he says with a toothy-bright grin. /Pretty/ well handled, sure enough. The (neatly wiped down!) kitchen counters have been set out with foods, chili and baked ziti and a large bowl of fruit salad, a huge plate of chocolate-cherry cookies, salsa and bean dip and home-baked pita chips. "Oh, yeah, sweetie, you're set," Jax calls cheerfully from the kitchen. "How 'bout you just sit down and actually-maybe relax some? You look beat." Flicker's fingers move to his lips. There's a very brief hitch of breath. This and the tight squeeze of his eyes don't really /match/ the sudden warm-happy smile that spreads across his face but -- well. He stoops to nab his pack back up, blipping over to drop into a seat at the counter. Drop his backpack to the floor. Scoop himself up a chip, load it with bean dip. Chomp. "Oh. Oh man. Have I mentioned I love you guys?" "Nope. Don't think I've ever heard that?" Shane finishes brushing his dirt-pile into the dustpan and walks it over to the trash to empty it in. "You could tell us though. Just about how /much/ would you say you love us?" A small flush dusts itself across Jax's cheeks. "Maybe jus' once or twice." His own smile is a match for Flicker's. Easy, warm, happy. "Don't think Shane's gonna complain 'bout hearin' it again, though. We ain't expectin' no sorta /crowd/ t'night, are we? Cuz I only cooked --" "-- for an army?" Flicker interrupts this thought, eyes skipping over the food already laid out. "Nah, it's gonna be small. We'll have leftovers to spare. And I love you guys," he reiterates for Shane's benefit, "even more than this /entire/ plate of cookies." His mechanical arm kind of -- half-twitches. Towards the cookies. Possibly this was supposed to be more of a gesture, though it ends up mostly just truncated. "Mmm." Shane snaps the dustpan onto the broom, leaning the broom up against the counter and wriggling his way up under Flicker's arm. He snakes his own arm around the other man, squeezing for a tight hug. "That's a lot. I've had one of the cookies. They're goddamn amazing." Speaking of which he reaches his other arm out to nab a cookie, though he only nibbles at it. Smalllll bites. His head bops lightly at the prosthetic. "How'd therapy go?" Jax's blush deepens. "A /tiny/ army. C'mon you guys all eat like one /anyway/." He leans up against the counter, flashing a crooked grin at the others. His eye flits to the arm, though, then up to Flicker's face in curiosity. Flicker's arm doesn't tighten around Shane in response. He does lean into the hug. Drop his head. Nestle chin down against spiky hair. "'bout the same." His tone is light. Smile still there, lopsided, easy. His jaw tightens against the top of Shane's head. "It'll get better. Just hopefully before I --" His eyes flick over to Jax. Briefly. Then drop back to the bowl of dip. "It'll be hard starting school." "You're already /in/ school, dude. -- Oh, wait. Fucking /more/ school. Crazy-ass bastard." Shane isn't letting go, even if his tone is flip; his arm tightens just a little, fingers squeezing against Flicker's bio-arm. "Or maybe just a damn masochist -- have you heard yet? When'd you be starting? There'll have to be some progress by the /fall/, right?" "When does that start?" Jax has a little bit of an excited bounce to his toes at this, that he tries to press down. A small shiver of glow lights around him and fades, though. "I mean, /do/ that start? Y'done heard back? Did I miss out on bakin' you congratulations-cupcakes?" Flicker bites down on his lip. His cheeks darken to match Jax's. He gives his head one -- small -- shake. "Yeah. No. Yeah. I'm still waiting on some places. I have heard but --" There's a small wrinkle in his brows. He shoots Jax a kind of guilty look. "... only from Washington." Quickly, he reaches for another chip. More dip. More chomp. "Hopefully I'll have made /some/ progress before school starts but -- so far it's just --" One of his arms shrugs. The other, less so. "/Washington/? What like. The D.C. one or the -- one that's far." Shane pulls back, his eyes /narrowing/ on Flicker in sudden suspicion. There's another flicker around Jax. His brows lift. "Oh! -- Oh. That's -- that's." On a delay, a quick smile. "But that's good, right? I mean, that's a good school. That's good for you, ain't it?" Flicker dips his head. Small nod. Quiet nod. "For me." Shane's head turns, eyes shifting briefly to fix on the basement door before returning to Flicker. "... ah." There's a small flutter of his gills as he looks back at his dad. Then at Flicker. Then at his dad. Then at Flicker. "But that's good. If it's important to you, then you should -- I mean, people'll still be here. /Home/'ll still be here. When you're -- done." Jax pulls in a small breath, and leans further across the table to curl his hand around Flicker's, his own fingers fiercely warm. "You deserve t'do things for you sometimes, y'know. It's your life. An' if it's what's best for you --" "Home might still be here." Flicker doesn't exactly say it heavily. Pretty wry. Lips twitching up, crooked and a little amused. His fingers curl through Jax's, squeezing tight. "Maybe. But with everything going on it might not, too. And I'll just be --" He shrugs. "You should go." Shane sounds oddly fierce about this. "We can take care of the fucking world. You should take care of your own damn self." He pulls away, leaning a little bit fidget-y up against the counter. "Besides, being a doctor, that's -- like, wow, right. School is the Thing To Do." Jax's brow furrows at this. His eye slips from Flicker to Shane, though he doesn't let go of Flicker's hand. "School's the thing t'do if that's what you /want/. Not just on account'a everyone sayin' so. Ain't like you /gotta/ go if you don't feel no need for it." His teeth scrape against his lower lip, clicking at his lip rings. "... but if you do. This opportunity's big, honey-honey. Y'shouldn't pass it up on account'a thinkin' you owe everyone else your life." Flicker's shoulders sag, just slightly. "Maybe." The smile on his face relaxes. Widens, a little. "Yeah, maybe. I just -- just wish the world would settle down some. May make it easier to feel like --" Another shrug. /He/ looks to Shane, too. "I don't really doubt you guys can take care of things. Still doesn't stop me wanting to stay and help take care of /you/." Shane snorts, head dipping. Slumping. He crosses his arms on the counter, lowering his head into them. "... I got into Juilliard," he says, quiet and flat. "I don't know what the thing to do is." His gills flutter. Quick. Just once. But then it's back to a grin, quick and toothy: "For /me/. For /you/ it's become a goddamn doctor, obviously." "You --" Jax's eye widens. Around him there's another flutter of light, brighter, warmer than before. "Oh. /Oh/! Shane, that's -- ohgoshwow. You -- but y'don't want to go? You don't seem --" His brows crease again. "Feel like there's way too much'a should in all this conversation. Not near enough'a jus' do whatever's good." "You /did/? Shane that's fantastic! Are you going? That's -- amazing." There's no hesitation now in Flicker's smile. Only bright exuberance. "I'll become a doctor and you become a virtuoso violinist, okay?" Shane's gills just flutter again. He doesn't return all the smiling. Just shrugs once, uncertain. "S'aright. I might go. I don't know. I have to tell them soon, I guess." He pushes up away from the counter. "I'mm'a find Spence. People will be here soon." This response dims the glow around Jax, light winking out. "... y'... okay." He slips around the counter, wrapping his arms around Shane's shoulders. His hand lifts, brushing down against Shane's gills. Just: "Okay. You know I'm gonna stand behind you any way y'choose, right? What's it you /want/ t'do with yourself?" "Shane, that's like. One of the best conservatories -- ever. You're not even a little excited?" There's a trace of worry in Flicker's expression. Shane shrugs again, though he leans into Jax's hug. "Guess I should be." Though he doesn't sound it. His face mooshes up into Jax's chest, gills calming under the stroking. "I /want/ -- to make sure there's a world still here," he replies, very quietly. "... for when Flicker's a fucking amazing doctor. You guys have given up so much for it already. I'm old enough to help now, you know." There's a greater firmness to his voice when he steps back, tipping his chin up to look his father in the eye. "And you know your team can use good people." At this, there's a very small catch of Jax's breath. He gathers Shane back close -- maybe to stop the flutter of shadow threatening to grow around him. The fluttering doesn't last long, though. He presses his face down against Shane's spiky hair. "Oh -- oh. Shane -- honey." He doesn't say anything else. Flicker's hand lifts. The side of his fist presses against his lips. His face is just a little paler than it had been a moment before. "Well." He swallows once, hard. "You certainly are /that/."