Logs:Jingle Jangle

Jingle Jangle
Dramatis Personae Jax, Sarah, Tag
In Absentia	2020-08-06 “There is so much ridiculous dialogue for the actors to chew. You’d have plenty to be impressed at.”
Location <NYC> Village Lofts Roof - East Village
It tends to be windy, up here, but the presence of plastic table and folding chairs suggests that nevertheless building residents occasionally make their way out to this rooftop. With a good view of Tompkins Square Park less than a block away it's a good spot for city-watching. There's a railing around the edge, though it might be possible (if unwise) to climb over it to the narrow concrete ledges beyond and from there to the fire escape. Centrally, someone has broken down crates and constructed a small raised-bed garden up here, barren in winter but filled in three other seasons with a small assortment of herbs and vegetables. The sun has set, bringing with it a blissful -- not-quite-as-swelteringness that settles muggily over the city. Still warm -- and it's still bright up here, too, courtesy of a number of sparkling star- and flower- and dragonfly-shaped fairy lights swaying gently in the breeze where they're strung around the rooftop, currently illuminating the plastic table where it's been pulled over near the fruit-heavy garden. It's laden with finger foods (half depleted already) -- scallion pancakes, rice-paper-wrapped summer rolls, barbecue seitan "spare ribs", fluffy soft bao stuffed with leek and mushrooms or vegetarian cha siu, edamame dumplings, fresh mango lemonade, a number of little ramekins full of sauce. Jax is tucked into one of the plastic chairs, barefoot, dressed plainly (for him); a tight silvery muscle shirt and black cutoffs embroidered with curling vines that seem to be faintly luminescent. So is his hair, right now, a tall black-tipped purple crest whose glittering silver highlights are slightly radiant in the shifting lights. "-- and they got the gay cruisin' woods? I know from small towns and we didn't have no gay cruisin' woods we had the two queers that everyone done beat up and the one queer who mostly avoid it cuz he can beat up anyone what comes at him and they've all dated and hate each other now," he's telling Tag, very earnestly as he waggles a half-finished scallion pancake to punctuate his point. "... but, you know, come to think, I ain't sure realism is high on the writers' priorities." Tag is draped sideways in his own chair, legs hooked over one arm and back against the other. This posture would be very perilous if he were not so small and light, but even so he'll probably have a time getting out of it. He's wearing a loose cropped t-shirt with a sleepy-looking sun "setting" into the hem, the background a glorious sunset ombre that fades to night black dotted with stars on his back where a moon is just rising, and a gauzy black midi skirt also festooned with stars. He's got a bao held in both hands and is giggling hysterically. "Maybe it's just an extremely queer small town? Considering how high the per capita murder rate is, they're pretty comfortable with being statistical outliers!" The door to the roof opens just enough to let Sarah squeeze through, adding just a Bit more color to the rooftop. Currently dressed in a baby blue romper with a repeating pattern of small red tulips, galaxy-print leggings are worn with it as some kind of hopeful defense against mosquitoes, with sunshine yellow hi-top Converse finishing the outfit off. There is some surprise when she catches sight of the other two, though it is not unpleasant. “Oh, hi!” she chirps to both of them, waving shortly before her eyes find Jax. “Am I interrupting? I can go and come back later!” "In a refreshing twist the straight people do seem real likely to get killed off so -- oh gosh maybe the next big twist secret's about the nefarious gay plot to rid the world of dramatic heterosexuals so we can keep the monopoly on Drama." Jax spoons some sauce on top of his remaining piece of pancake, popping it into his mouth -- which leaves it quite full when Sarah arrives. "Mmph mmph," is his reply, covering his mouth with one hand and waving his other in invitation toward an empty chair. He licks sauce off his fingers, swallows. "We got plenty, I think." "Oh no, it's the darkdest of Riverdale's dark secrets!" Tag's feet kick lightly in the air. His mouth is free to answer when Sarah arrives, though. "Oh, please, do join us!" he says with a bright quicksilver smile. "There is zero way we are finishing all of this anyway, if you're hungry--it's all delicious. We're talking," he adds, helpfully, "about that grimdark Archie show. It's amazing." His long hair is pale blue tonight, shot through with iridescent glitter that makes it look unearthly in the low lighting. "I might be working too much if it feels like I see my own neighbor more often at Chimaera than, like--where we both live." “Jaxfood!” Sarah gasps delightedly, and beelines for the offered seat. “Thank you! I can always eat.” Delicately taking a summer roll with two fingers, she pulls her legs up to cross loosely in front of her. “To be fair, there is a good chance I spend more time at Chimaera than where we both live,” she cheerfully says while examining sauces. “So you would not be the only one doing too much. Jax, which of these do you recommend? And before I say anything about The Edgiest Little Town in the Northeast, how much have you seen? Any musical episodes?” "The food ain't that exciting." Jax's cheeks flush slightly, his knee pulling up to his chest. "Um -- any of them? But some of them go better with some'a the things than others. Maybe I should color-code." The plates and ramekins are changing, soft colorful glows illuminating the different foods with matching colors beneath their respective sauce pots. "Not that I'm a the arbiter of sauce or nothin', you can mix it up how you like. We've kinda been havin' sauce anarchy up here." One pierced eyebrow hikes up, a quick smile darting across his face. "Tag? Work too much? Who coulda told you that except -- oh, everyone." His hand flutters briefly in the air. "I ain't seen much but I have like -- too many actual problems in life to care about spoilers. Besides does anybody really watch Riverdale for the plot?" "Guess we're just too excitable?" Tag flashes a grin at Sarah. "I don't even watch the show, actually. I've seen a few episodes but mostly I just follow it via Jax, and I think it's actually a much better experience that way. I'm not sure there is a plot so much as just like, a series of catastrophes strung together with...more catastrophes?" He crosses his legs. "What can I say, I'm in demand and there's always people and stuff to make more colorful." "Amazing food is always exciting," Sarah casually argues, smiling with glee as the dishware starts to morph and glow. "Even more when you’re eating with good people." Dipping her summer roll into it’s color-coded sauce, she looks up at the fairy lights while chewing. Flashes Jax an enthusiastic thumbs up. Good! "That’s really not a bad summary," she says once the summer roll is gone. "It’s forgotten, never-spoken-of-again catastrophes and Jingle Jangle all the way down." Her gazes drops curiously to Tag, lightens with comprehension a moment later. "Oh, yeah! You do the art on Dusk’s wings, right?" She motions with a hand to the empty air behind her shoulder. "Like, painless tattoos?" The odd flux of light that constantly surrounds Jax is not normally visible to most eyes, but to Tag's perception it is detectable -- shifting in sudden tightening clench during the exchange about the food. His smile comes easily enough, fingers lacing on his stomach and his head tipping back to watch a nearby string of multicolored stars sway above them. The not-quite-visible shift of light pulls in tighter, for a moment nearly disappearing entirely. "Oh gosh, Tag does so much arts. Often with people as a canvas." His fingers flutter towards his vivid fringe of hair carefully cemented upright on his head. "Not just skin neither. Brilliant in many medi... a? Mediums?" His nose wrinkles uncertainly. Tag's eyes flick to Jax for a moment, then back to Sarah. "Jingle jangle," he guffaws. "Sorry, I sometimes feel like I should just watch this show to see how the actors say that with a straight face, because that's kind of impressive." He ducks his head, blushing at the praise. When he looks back up his eyes are a striking shade of fluorescent violet where they had been dark brown before. "I can't actually do tattoos. The work I do on skin lasts a month or two at best, but it's not permanent. Really great for people who want to try out tattoos, though! Or who just want rotating body art, like Dusk. But yeah, like..." He props himself up a little straighter in his chair and gestures at his own hair grandly. Vivid purple creeps up from the tips as if in the act of being dip-dyed. "I do a lot of hair, actually. Jax is great advertisement." Oblivious to any possible turmoil, Sarah goes for one of the remaining pancakes next. “There’s also fizzle rocks,” she informs Tag with an impish grin. “There is so much ridiculous dialogue for the actors to chew. You’d have plenty to be impressed at.” Confusion bleeds into her expression when she looks to Jax’s hair at his motion, mixes with surprise when Tag looks up with stunning new eyes. “Oh!” Repeats herself as clarity dawns. “Ohhh. Oh, wow! I always thought—I thought you illusioned your hair,” she says to Jax, pancake forgotten in her hand. “But I guess that would be a lot, to do all the time!" "So Pixy Stix and Pop Rocks are Riverdale's drug of choice? Oh my gosh." Jax tips his head down with a chuckle, his head shaking. "Oh!" His hand lifts to touch his fingertips lightly to his heavily gelled hair. "I do sometimes, but usually just -- not for long? Like yeah it's kind of a pain to keep it up all day or anything. Way better to just have Tag make sure it's properly matchin' my outfits. If I'd had access to his kinda wizardry in high school, I'd --" Here he stops, frowns, his nose crinkling up. "-- Okay, still have been a total dork with no friends but I'd have looked much cooler doin' it." "Fizzle rocks," Tag echoes. "Fizzle rocks, oh my God, that's amazing." He giggles, delighted. "But yeah, I can do some stuff with hair that conventional dyes can't, and it doesn't fry your hair because no chemicals. So if you ever want really rockin' hair, I've got friend rates!" His smile softens a touch, impossibly purple eyes flicking back to Jax. "C'mon, I know you had some friends in high school, but if you'd known me then you would have at least had one more. But honestly, even I would have loved to have been able to do this in high school. I would have gotten a lot fewer burns from leaving bleach on my head for two hours. And gotten yelled at less when I can just do this before I get home." His hair abruptly returns to its natural black. It takes sauce dripping onto her hand for Sarah to remember there is food available to eat. The pancake gets shoved into her mouth, cheeks bulging some as she hurriedly chews and swallows. “I’m sorry, Jax, it’s just.” She coughs lightly into her elbow to clear her throat some. Maybe should have chewed more. Oops. “It’s hard to picture you without many friends. You just—seem to have so many! I would have been your friend too, if I had went.” Her gaze returns to Tag as the color seems to drop from his hair, one hand reaching up brush through her own hair. Vibrant pink that is losing it’s vibrancy with cornsilk showing at the roots. “I’ve actually had a certain idea for a while...” she murmurs thoughtfully, before her expression brightens. “So, how much does it cost to be a canvas?”