ArchivedLogs:Dreamy

Dreamy
Dramatis Personae Micah, Jax, Flicker
In Absentia	16 December 2014 Part of the Future Past TP.
Location <NYC> {Lighthaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
Bright and sunny-light, this house lives up to its name. With a plethora of enormous windows flooding the place with light and an open layout, the ground floor feels more spacious than it is. The small entryway has a closet space for shoes and coats, and doors at either side leading to the neighboring apartments. Past this it opens straight into the living room, a wide expanse of space bordered on one side by a curved set of stairs leading up (with colourful glass tiling on the risers between each stair) and next to these, the half-wall into the kitchen. Cool pale tile underfoot and many dark cabinets with a small walk-in pantry, plentiful custom granite countertops, black and speckled faintly with rainbowy flecks, lots of hanging space overhead for cookware, a large double-oven. There's a strip of rather detailed mosaic-work in the kitchen backsplash, colourful glass tiling depicting strange fantastical herbs and small faeries and firelizards darting among them. In back of the kitchen, a door opens up to a small sunroom, wide and two-stories high with a balcony overlook from the second floor; two of the windows here have cushioned windowseats, and there's a wealth of herbs growing in hanging pots and small window-boxes. The back wall of the living room is nearly entirely dominated by windows, huge and allowing a view of the river beyond with bench windowseats lining the sills. There are plentiful paintings on the wall, surreal and fantasy-inspired, mostly in shades of blacks greys with bright bursts of colour that are mirrored in the decor -- monochrome upholstery on the couch and armchair but colourful throw-pillows, black and white huge corduroy beanbags (and one large red doggie-bed,) soft throw rugs also in mostly black and white with splashes of rainbow woven in. The hand-built furniture -- tall chairs by the kitchen/living room counter, dining table and chairs in the kitchen, low coffeetable in the living room -- has been hand-painted as well, black with bursts of colourful abstract designs. Along the living room's other wall, doors branch off to a full bathroom -- in white and deep blue with one wall of the shower done in colourful intricate mosaic too, an underwater scene full of strange mythical water-creatures; tiny water-sprites have been interspersed at random points in the rest of the wall tiles, as well. There's a small studio space beside the bathroom, large windows as well and a gratuitous amount of shelving and cabinets along the walls; this room has very /little/ colour in it, just white walls and black furnishing. There has been some cooking going on in the Lighthaus kitchen, adding quite a bit of warmth to the grey-rainy evening. The table is already laden with casserole and serving dishes full of candied yams, collards, and roasted seitan with cranberry dressing. Glasses of cranberry-peach juice accompany the place settings. Last but not least, a white pastry box full of pumpkin chocolate chip cupcakes has been hidden away for consumption /after/ the main meal. Micah has been humming along through food preparation and table setting, clearly showered and changed between arriving home and starting the cooking. His hair is post-shower spiky, though long since dried. His clothing is simple and not overly layered now that it is consistently above freezing outside: jeans and a charcoal henley under a black tee depicting a reproduction parchment page bearing sketches of Toothless and prosthetic designs. The redhead dries his hands on a kitchen towel before seeking Jax out, moving behind the other man and resting his hand gently on the back of his neck. "Hey, sugar. Got all kindsa dinner ready. Should recharge the batteries a fair sight, I'd hope." Jax has resumed a position on the couch, tucked under a blanket in black skinny jeans (embroidered with many multicolured metallic dragonflies) and a black fishnet shirt under a purple tee that reads 'I'm one of the bravest girls alive'. His shoulders shiver upwards at Micah's touch, head lifting from the drawing he's been working on -- half-finished on his screen, there's some sort of faery procession riding through a forest, a pregnant figure racing up to the column of riders to drag one of them down off his horse. "Smells delicious, honey-honey. You're kinda a doll." He isn't immediately getting up, cheek nuzzling to the side to rub beard-fuzz against Micah's arm. "Kinda make these crazy-long nights tolerable. With /delicious/." Flicker is still stifling a yawn as he wanders in -- he hasn't /quite/ made good on sleeping straight through till his /next/ exam, but it looks like he maybe did take a nap after Evolve. Hair a little more tousled than it was, clothes a little bit slept-in-rumpled. His fingers are kneading at his chest, lips pressing together like biting back /another/ yawn. "... have extra?" Hopeful. Sniff? He can smell the delicious from his room. Micah's fingers massage into the muscles of Jax's neck as he leans in to press a kiss to his husband's temple. "Mmn, s'nice. A commission or just somethin' y'felt moved t'draw?" His other hand sends fingertips to scritch at Jax's chin-scruff. "Hopefully's plenty delicious. Y'was lookin' a little worn. I already got the sunlamps on by your chair at the table. /Bonus/ is that the solstice's comin' up soon enough. Big party an' only longer days t'be had there on out." For a time, he just nuzzles up close. "Y'wanna walk or should I get the wheels?" Flicker's entrance stands him up a bit, turning to face the new voice. A slow smile spreads across his lips. "We ain't even started eatin' yet, you're in luck. Well, not s'much luck as...we always make way too much food. How's things?" "Mmm." Jax's head rolls forward, tensed muscles relaxing slightly at the massaging. "Had a song in my head. Couldn't get it out, thought I'd draw it some." His expression lights with Flicker's arrival. "This'n's already said he wants t'buy a print off me, though. -- I was kinda worn. I turned Evolve into sorta a -- /revel/ t'day. Bonfire an' satyrs dancin' everywhere. Oh /gosh/ I can't wait t'decorate. You get good sleep, sug'?" "Napped." Flicker has a small smile at this, though his tone is noncommittal. "His fauns were pretty excellent." /Another/ yawn, and he heads further in, slouching down into a beanbag to curl up in a small ball. "Things..." This trails off. His eyes lock up on the ceiling. His hand kneads harder at his chest. When he sits up it's abrupt; the /firmer/ set of his smile is abrupt, too. "Don't think I've failed out of school yet. You?" "Sounds pretty. But exhaustin', short'n rainy day as it's been." Both hands move to his husband's neck and shoulders, continuing to rub there when Jax's head tips. "Should be a party. An' all kindsa pretty. I can only imagine what the lights're gonna be like, the way the kids took to the /wheelchairs/ alone." Micah's head tips this time, chin indicating Flicker's rubbing hand. "You're prob'ly doin' better'n y'think, sugar. Harness botherin' you?" He chuckles as everyone only seems more set in the living room. "Food's on the table. Could make plates an' bring 'em in here if ev'rybody's needin' t'flop, though." "Oh. Oh gosh. No look I'm okay. Gettin' up." Jax saves his work, but then -- promptly doesn't move. Just quiet-moans. Sags a little more forward. "Y'ain't makin' it easy oh /gosh/ your hands feel good.” He tips his glance up, nose wrinkling at Flicker. "You're brilliant, m'sure you're -- doin' brilliant. Things aright, sweetie? That smile's a little -- /too/ smile." "Kind of a rough week," Flicker admits. He sucks his cheeks inward, teeth scraping at the insides of them. His hand drops when Micah asks after his harness, cheeks flushing pinker. "Oh -- apologies, I -- it's fine. Just in my head, I think. Do you -- have a. Contact info for that -- woman who -- the nurse. Who helps out. After raids." The color in his cheeks is deepening. He sits up slowly, resting an elbow on a knee. Micah doesn't press the issue further, fingers continuing their slow-steady kneading. Food is a necessity, but not the only one. "That good, huh?" His head shakes at Flicker's dismissal. "Honey, prostheses take a lot of adjustin'. Frequent adjustin'. 'Specially when you're new to 'em. An' they can /hurt/. If it's hurtin', prob'ly it ain't in your head. B'lieve me, I know well enough from experience." His posture straightens in alarm at that question. "Kate? I do...I think. Usually Corey'd been fetchin' 'er for us. Is somebody hurt? Bad?" "Joshua's got her healing, he -- when they were fixin' Dusk, I think, or -- after one'a the raids --" Jax frowns, biting down on his lip, head tilting at Flicker more in curiosity than alarm. /Concern/, certainly, A definite note of /fret/ creeping in at the edges. "Sweetie, you're lookin' a little. Stress-face. -- Also you should listen t'Micah jus' cuz you're /used/ to a giant world'a pain always --" He bites harder at his lip, shaking his head briefly. "... doesn't sound like this is the kinda thing you're supposed t'just muscle through the pain on." "Yeah, but Joshua doesn't know as much about it as --" Flicker shakes his head, lifting a hand to forestall further panic. "No. No, nobody's --" Head turns. Eyes shift over towards the open door to his own house. "... no more than he has been. Joshua just. Doesn't know. If it -- works. On cancer." A small shiver ripples through him. He gets to his feet, blipping over to reappear by the windows, head tipping down against the glass. Eyes fixed on the river outside. "I think it hurts," he finally admits. "Hive? We're talkin' 'bout Hive here, right? He changed his mind? /What/ changed his mind?" Micah looks positively baffled and not entirely certain how to react, confusion and long-lingering loss warring with an odd flare of hope. "I'd been tellin' 'im b'fore. I had theories on how healin' abilities could be used. Cuttin' off blood flow t'the tumour. Restorin' the damaged tissues. Any number of... He shut me down. He wants this now?" His head shakes back and forth slowly. Flicker's admission finally pulls him back to the moment, one last little squeeze given to Jax's shoulders before attending to the other man. "Y'want I should look? Y'can tell me 'bout what's been happenin'. Would give me a better idea what's wrong." Jax sits up straighter -- sharp and fast enough that it drains colour from his face, pulls a small gasp out of him, body still not really ready for /abrupt/ motions. "Wait, for Hive? But --" A small glow flutters around him, his eye darting over towards Geekhaus as well. "/Really/? Really really?" He can't keep the bright-spark hope out of his tone, though afterwards his teeth go back to gnawing at his lip. "But -- but what -- but he -- oh, wow. I -- okay. That's -- wow. Um -- I got. Kate's number, if -- he wants that. Now." Flicker dips his head. Slow-nod. Against the glass. "Changed his mind," he agrees, his voice just a little unsteady. "Yeah. Her number would be good. See what options he -- might have. Now." His hand lifts, the sleeve of his sweater rubbing against one eye and then the other before he turns back. "Thanks." His arm shifts, moving slow and testing. "Maybe food first. Look after. It -- smells really good." Small and quick, his smile emerges again. Jax's gasp draws Micah back before he can reach Flicker, anyhow. He sits beside Jax on the couch, a supportive arm around his shoulders. "Okay. Okay, we can get y'that number, for sure. Did somethin' happen? It seems...sudden. After so long goin' against it. I mean, I'm not /complainin'/. I'm just...even a couple days ago he still sounded like he wanted nothin' more'n /out/." He nods at this last request. "Right. After food. I meant it when I said I'd bring plates in, if gettin' up is too much for y'all. I don't mind." "No, m'okay, look, m'gettin' up." Jax curls an arm around Micah, leaning into his husband for support as he stands. The look he gives Flicker is worried, though. His teeth wiggle at his lip ring again. "Sweetie, you -- you're cryin'." His brows furrow with that dab of eyes. "Jus' -- let us know if. We can do nothin', alright? For either of you. I can't -- imagine how stressy any of this has gotta be." Flicker circles a hand over his heart, pulling away from the window and starting toward the kitchen. "Just been a week," he says, apologetic. "He's been having a rough time and. I had a -- nother of those dreams and. I just kind of wish it had waited till winter break had started because exams are killing me." His smile is a little crooked. He gets himself a glass of water, setting it down and then adding another plate to the table. "Just a lot to process." Micah settles in close to Jax, an arm around him to help support him over to the table following Flicker, albeit slower. His expression tightens a moment, though this passes with a heavy breath. "Yeah, he's been...havin' a time of it lately." The mention of the dreams draws a legitimate /shiver/ from the redhead, as if the room had suddenly drawn a draft. "Exams're almost over for you, yeah?" And that's about how far he manages to go without asking after the dream. "S'a future dream? D'you mind...tellin' me what happened? I been tryin' t'piece things t'gether. /An'/ get in contact with that Doctor Strange. An' find Maya. An' I'm fair sure it's all connected, but it's hard gettin' it all piecemeal an' patchwork an' only what I have or others tell me about." He bites his lip to stop further pressing on the topic. "An' you're allowed t'talk about things that're troublin' you, too, y'know? S'a lot of us with a lotta trouble an' a lotta weary. All talkin' it at you an' everyone else. You get t'talk, too, y'know? We're here for you, too." "Oh." Jax's shoulders tighten at the mention of the dreams, a flutter of light briefly around him. "Kinda /rude/ intrusive future dreams, ain't they? Could at least've waited till you was done with test time. Future ain't goin' nowhere, what's another day or three." He settles in at the table, reaching over to squeeze lightly at Flicker's arm when the other man returns. "Don't got to process it all on your own." "Sit my last one Thursday morning. Then I have a whole month till classes again." Which Flicker looks immensely relieved about. He quiets as he starts to get food. Slow and deliberate with each bit that he puts on his plate. "Doctor Strange was in -- my dream." Quiet, slow. "He's definitely involved. I -- think Maya might be helping. Sending the dreams. From the future. I was with him. Waiting for her. Seemed like we'd all been working together a while." "Oh, that'll be a well-needed rest, then. Good." Micah also starts serving food from opposite containers than Flicker chooses, getting large helpings of everything on /Jax's/ plate. "He was in it more'n the videos of 'im rantin', I'm takin' it. The rest is...pretty much what I've been suspectin'. Did y'see Maya? Was there any indication where she done vanished to? What was y'all doin'?" Once Jax's plate is filled, he begins working on his own. He looks suddenly thoughtful. "He spoke with y'all in the dream? Would he recognise your voice? Or name? Maybe addin' that t'me leavin' 'im messages might actually get 'im t'respond. I /hate/ waitin'. With Maya bein' missin' first of all, but also with this...figurin' out what t'/do/ 'bout these horrordreams." "With him with him? With him like y'think he prob'ly shared your dreamin' too?" A discomfited expression crosses Jax's face, but he nods. "If Maya was there, though, that's -- I mean, 'least that means she's -- if she's alive in horrible years-from-now apocalypse she's alive now, gotta be." He quiets long enough to say a blessing over his food before picking up his fork. "Yeah. /In/ it. We were in a -- the sewers, I guess. Hiding. I don't know where she's vanished to, no. It was -- you know, the future. Years from now. I don't know what's happened /now/. /Then/, we were --" Flicker blushes, deeply, looking down at his plate. Then back up at the other man. It's kind of self-conscious, sheepish, when he answers: "... trying to save the world." He picks up his fork, spearing a yam. "Strange and --" His cheeks suck inward again. "They'd been working. To change everything. Change what -- ever made the world so terrible. I mean, it was pretty clear. We were -- specifically talking about changing timelines. About how we'd already done it before and we needed to find the right thing to change. To make all that -- better. If he had the dream too, I guess he'd know my face, at least." "Yeah, she's gotta be alive. I never really...considered maybe she weren't. Just figured it had t'do with all this dream stuff an' maybe she got kidnapped or disappeared or sucked into a dream an' can't get out. I dunno how all this works." Micah coats his seitan liberally with the cranberry relish before breaking a bite free to chew on. "So y'didn't just talk with 'im. Y'were workin' with 'im. On...just what we thought. Sendin' information back in order to affect the timelines? Already changed one...yeah. You an' Hive. That was the biggest thing we done changed." He chews another bite, nodding thoughtfully. "We should have you try t'get in contact with 'im, then. He keeps ignorin' me. I mean...I wanted the /both/ of us t'go talk with 'im regardless. You've seemed t'have the most dreams with him in. An' I've had the most contact with an' information about Maya. See if we can't get a /lotta/ questions answered." "Sucked into a dream?" Jax scoops some casserole and seitan together in a mouthful, brows furrowing. His hand lifts to cover his mouth while he works on swallowing. "Can that happen? An'," he swallows, dropping his hand and picking up his juice for a sip. "How'd you fit in to -- I mean, what was /you/ doin' with Strange? S'not like /you're/ dreamy." Flicker's mouth opens. Closes again. There's a sudden deep blush in his cheeks. A sudden burst of laugh at something Jax says. He smothers it in a bite of food. Shakes his head quick. "Working with him," he confirms. "I -- think I was just. Kind of protection. Bodyguard. Get them out quick when the robots show up. Do you know how to contact him? I can try. There was something. Keeps coming up. In these dreams, over and over. He said it -- he said. 'Should you find yourself in a place and time before all of this, find me -- and tell me: 'The days of future past are upon us.' I -- guess we're in a place and time before all this." "Well, she done walked /through/ one of Dusk's b'fore, tryin' t'figure who was behind alla this. Figure...maybe y'can get stuck doin' that kinda thing?" Micah shrugs in a very this-is-so-far-out-of-my-field-of-knowledge way. "Pssh, Flicker's /totally/ dreamy." Eyelash bat. There is still room for humour here, after all. "Sure it's why they recruited 'im." He 'huhs' softly at the additional information from Flicker. "Well, a secret pass-phrase. Maybe /that's/ what a body needs t'get 'is attention. Yeah, I got all of his publicly available information off the internet an' I've been leavin' messages, but it ain't like he's callin' me back so far." Now /Jax/ joins in the blushing, cheeks darkening red as the unintentional pun in his words catches up to him. He bows his head, cheeks burning. "Well -- I mean, Flicker's /dreamy/ as anything, he's just --" He shoves another bite of food into his mouth to shut himself up. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, writing down the phrase Flicker recites. "... days of future past? S'good an'. Cryptic soundin'. So these creepy dreams an' all, he's /named/ 'em. Guess at least -- we got somethin' to go on, now. Hopefully he listens." This isn't helping Flicker's blush. Deeper, redder. He scrunches up an eye, his smile twitching crooked. "... In my dream. He told me to talk to him. Past-him. But he said he was a dick. He said it might be hard. That him-now is a giant -- did you know he went to Xavier's? I looked for him, when I woke up. Couldn't find a trace. They must have hated him. He got /expelled/. Do you /know/ how hard it is to get /expelled/ from Xavier's? I knew at least three kids who /attacked/ teachers and two didn't even get suspended. -- so, um." Shoulder twitches up. "If we do get in touch. May be in for fun." Micah's lips twitch to one side in amusement, though a faint echo of the others' blushing ruddies his own cheeks a few shades. He spears a yam together with some collards to munch on. "So we gotta get a gigantic jerkface t'talk to us. If he won't answer your secret phrase on messages, maybe we'll hafta find 'im in /person/. Be a little insistent. An' hope he wasn't expelled for bein' a danger. Ohgosh. This just keeps gettin' better." "Expelled? Wow, that's -- Max actually tried t'kill me once --" Though here Jax grins, a /little/ crooked, "-- okay, /Shane/ actually tried t'kill me too but that was -- different. Jus', uh, we got some /pretty/ -- lenient standards on /forgiveness/ 'round there so." His cheeks puff out. He blows out a heavy breath, and nods. "Aright. I'll say a prayer your magic words work. An' if not -- well. I happen t'know my husband is stubborn as /all/ get-out."