Logs:Good Parents

Good Parents
Dramatis Personae Ion, Tian-shin
In Absentia	2019-06-17 "Fuck 'em then. We his parents now."
Location <NYC> BoM Safehouse - Lower East Side
Tucked away off a little-used side street in the Lower East Side, sandwiched between a youth drop-in center and a taqueria, this narrow three-story townhouse has very little to catch the eye. Boarded-up windows, a door peeling its paint, shabby grubby brickface; from the outside it does not look like much. Inside someone has gone to great lengths to renovate the building into something more habitable. It isn't glamorous but it is comfortable, old furniture dragged in, the place generally swept clean. The first floor holds a large living room, a smaller dining room, a spacious kitchen, a half-bathroom. There are three bedrooms and a full bathroom on the second floor; the attic is just a large empty space crammed full of boxes with a window out to the large flat roof. The basement, much like the attic, consists of a lot of empty space. A bare concrete floor, no windows, occasional poles running up to the ceiling. A tiny half-bathroom down here, too. Not a whole lot else. Ion's arms are laden heavily as he pushes open the door of the safehouse, paint cans in hand, rollers and plastic trays tape and brushes and drop cloth jumbled in bags dangling from his wrists. "I don't think the rain it coming some long time yet," he's saying with enthusiastic optimism, "we open up the windows, put some fan in, I think we'll be all good. Room ain't a big room. You know, when I got out the labs I did this some while? I mean I done any damn thing that would pay me. Lotta construction. Painted lotta houses, too." Trailing in Ion's wake, Tian-shin is also laden with house painting supplies. It's not clear whether she dressed for this activity, revelling in her temporary freedom from school, or just borrowing her older brother's clothes, but she's wearing a cropped t-shirt that seems to consist entirely of colorful swirls, gray lightweight cargo pants, and old, comfortable-looking lace-up boots. Her hair is down, held back from her face by a black batik bandana covered with rainbow flowers. "I didn't know about that specifically, but I'm not surprised." She's smiling broadly, though her tone is earnest. "You have so many skills that you just don't talk about." Here a thoughtful pause as she closes the door behind them. "Probably some you don't even think about. Which room is it?" "What? That's some nonsense, I don't ever shut up." Ion hauls his armload towards the stairs. His steps are thumping, heavy, the paint can slosh-bumping against his leg as he makes his way up. "Is just up on the right. They s'posed to be down the Clinic today, you know that's gonna take all the damn day long." The door stands open, indeed, the small bedroom currently empty. Ion drops his things in a corner, getting to work moving the sparse furniture towards the center of the room. "You do a lot of painting through lawyer school?" The question doesn't -- actually sound sarcastic, at all. Tian-shin huffs a soft laugh. "Well, then, shame on me for not knowing about that particular skill. I mean, how long have we been dating?" She follows Ion's example, depositing their supplies and relocating the furniture. "I didn't do a lot of painting in law school, but I helped out around the neighborhood back home, so..." She considers. "Probably about the same amount of painting I did when I was a kid. Same quality, too. Certainly no one would have--or should have--paid me to do it." Looking back at the cans of paint, she smiles. "Not usually anything this bright, though. It is just going to be like, one color on each wall...?" Ion stops in the middle of shaking out a drop cloth, turning a bright hook of a grin to Tian-shin. "Huhwhat? What was it, New Year when we was tryna get your mama off your back, yeah? That's coming on six month now. Shit! I maybe should get you some bigass half... half-a... half a verse..." He shakes his head, shakes the cloth again. "Half year present, right? That's a good boyfriend of thing to do?" Another shake and he spreads the cloth out and over the collection gathered in the room's center. "Good then, nobody gonna pay you now so this, it should feel familiar. We make this bright bright bright. This boy, he say his folks they never let him have no bright colors for his room? Fuck 'em then. We his parents now. His room gonna be bright as hell." Tian-shin blushes, and hides it by busying herself with the bags. "You don't have to do anything like that. I mean, you wouldn't have to even if we were actually dating." Finally she catches Ion's grin, though. "It is sweet of you to think of it, though." She picks up a can of lime green paint and studies the instructions on its label. The looks up at Ion, blinking. "I don't think we're old enough to be his parents. He might actually be older than you." "Yeah-okay. I find this great new Mexican place though. You'll love it." The look Ion gives Tian-shin after this is completely blank. "His parents was shitbags," he explains, earnest, picking up a roll of blue tape and bouncing it restlessly in one hand. "He need better ones till he find a place to go." "That's..." Tian-shin struggles for a moment, drumming her pink fingernails on the side of the paint can. "...surprisingly persuasive, actually. I just wasn't quite expecting to go from half-a-versery to adopting. Then again..." She smiles brightly again. "... unexpected things have a way of happening around you. And I think that's pretty great." She sets down the paint can and cracks her knuckles. "Alright, then--let's be good parents. Where do we start?" "Hey you can tell your ma, huh? Bet she weren't expecting no baby so soon. Definitely not a full grown one." There's a deep rumble of laughter that accompanies this cheerful suggestion. Ion tosses Tian-shin the tape that he's holding, and stoops to swipe another roll from his bag. "First we tape up. Then we gonna brighten this whole damn place."