Logs:Lending a Hand

Lending a Hand
Dramatis Personae DJ, Jax, Matt
In Absentia	2021-10-27 "If they are not complete and utter fools, I should not think it unlikely they are expecting you to do exactly what you are doing."
Location <NYC> Riverdale - The Bronx
This little niche of a neighborhood has been growing in size -- and growing in appetite as he does. Perhaps Jax is in here out of some sense of obligation after dumping so many new people on Riverdale or perhaps he'd just have been here regardless -- either way, he's set himself up in one of the communal kitchens, an enormous pot of stroganoff underway for which he's currently frying a huge skillet of seitan. He's brightly dressed, purple skinny jeans and chunky rainbowy platform sneakers paired with an enormous and extremely soft Care Bears sweater whose fluffy sleeves he's rolled up above his elbow as he works."--hafta make him some extra special cake when he gets back. I mean the mood wasn't exactly festive right 'fore we left and now he's got birthday two stuck in there." Though his brows scrunch after this; he chews on his lower lip slowly, scraping the bottom of his skillet with the metal spatula. "-- d'you know what kinda cake Joshua likes best?" Matt, a masterful kitchen loiterer, has parked himself out of the way on a stool at the end of the counter now that there's unlikely to be any need for sou-chefing. He's still in his work clothes, today a gray twill dress shirt with a subtle green-and-black floral brocade vest and matching tie, black slacks, and black derby shoes. "Mm, I'm afraid I do not." His mouth tugs to one side fleetingly. "I'm afraid there's a great deal I do not know about him. Tag might know." He raises his mug for a sip of tea, then settles his chin in the palm of one hand. "Probably he would appreciate any kind of cake that he can eat when he gets back." His pause here is so minute it could easily be missed, and when he resumes it's softer. "I pray he is with the others, at least, festivity or no." DJ is just getting in from outside, dressed warmly in lined flannel, heavy jeans, sturdy workboots. He starts into the kitchen but stops short when he sees the other men there, freezing for just a heartbeat by the doorway before -- slower than before -- continuing toward the fridge. "Sorry," he offers quietly, his head dipping as he gets a cup and a bottle of orange juice out. Pours himself some. Starts to head back out but hesitates uncertainly to offer: "Do you need a hand with anything?" "You think they'd keep 'em together? I guess maybe the newbies don't got such a track record with us..." Jax doesn't look particularly confident in this assessment, though. He's scraping the browned bits off his pan again, frowning as he looks up at DJ. "Oh! Oh, no, I --" His hand flutters out over the stove burners dismissively, and he doesn't finish his thought. Just sets the spatula down, picks up a wooden spoon to stir the other pot where the gravy is slowly reducing. He leans up against the counter when this is done, looking DJ over for a moment. "Y'don't gotta apologize for taking up space here, y'know." "Just so," Matt's agreement isn't all that enthusiastic. "And I think it not impossible they might do it as leverage to secure cooperation." His eyes dart to the door well before it admits DJ, then close very briefly to open again when the man actually opens the door. He seems content to let Jax make the overture before he chimes in with, "That would apply even if you weren't cranking out Fully Manual Mutant Communism every time you're here, but you may certainly consider this effete city boy impressed." A blush spreads up DJ's neck into his cheeks. His head bows further. "Sometimes it feels like I should. People have mostly stopped looking at me like they've seen a ghost and now it's more like --" He stops here, lips pressing together. Takes another swig of juice. "I don't know about Communism but it does feel good to keep my -- to stay busy." He hesitates, then adds, "-- it doesn't just have to be with the cooking. I mean. It sounded like you all were kind of short-handed for getting your friends back, if -- well. I could help, that's all." Jax's eye goes wider at this offer. He glances to Matt, then down to his pot. He stirs, quietly. He looks uncertainly back up at DJ. Back down at his pot. What he finally does answer isn't helpful at all: "Did you know him?" Once again his hand flutters in the air, this time more of a flail. "The -- the -- other one. In your world. Another me." Matt doesn't actually straighten up at DJ's offer, but the way he comes suddenly more alert gives the impression he has. He arches one eyebrow fractionally when he makes eye contact with Jax. Then he relaxes, though never quite back to his previous languid slouch, hand curling so that his chin rests on his knuckles. "Well, that escalated quickly." He studies DJ with frank curiosity, then bows his head to gaze at his tea instead. "I don't suppose you've heard that they designed strategies specifically designed to exploit--powers like yours." DJ does straighten at Jax's question, just that much more upright as he looks the other man back over. "-- You know, I think you're the first person all year --" His words hitch here, stumble, his brow furrowing. "-- to ask me that," he continues, head shaking slightly. "But I did. He was a good man." His grip on the glass of juice tightens at Matt's information. "-- I heard their security was -- learning to adapt. I didn't know the specifics." "You just seemed awful willing to follow me into potential death. Imagine it's best if you got a few more details 'fore makin' that choice." Jax is stirring his stroganoff again, slowly. "Flicker'n'Hive was kinda the lynchpin of our team. They trained up guards just for 'em." Matt nods, slow and meditative. "Always two there are: a telepath and a telekinetic armed with...shrapnel dispensers, essentially." His free hand lifts and turns palm-up in an elegant manual shrug. "But even before that, they knew if they could keep the heavy hitters out of the cell blocks long enough, they could wear Flicker down by filling his travel path with bullets." "Well, that sounds horrible." DJ sounds oddly casual about it, all the same. He leans against the counter, lowering the glass. "But Flicker's been dead for over a year and it sounds like they steamrolled you last time so possibly those teams will be on to other assignments for the moment at least for this one next run." He shrugs, small, then frowns. "And I'm not allowed to kill them. If you tell me there's a no maiming policy I'm going to have to really rethink -- everything." Jax opens his mouth, closes it again. Adds more wine to his pot, stirs it, scrapes the other skillet and turns the flames off beneath it. "Some day," he says pensively, "if it don't pain you too much, I sorely want to hear more about the life you done left behind for this. But no, we -- l no maiming would be a tricky one to pull off. I think we aim for a judicious use of maiming, if s'possible." His sigh is very small. "You free after supper? Gonna have to see you practice with us if you're really gonna do this." "Mm." Matt's face twitches and then settles into a somewhat flat look of concern that Jax can probably recognize as a substitute for the cackle that he just suppressed. "Gods willing, they'll have mothballed those strategies, but..." He does straighten up now and drains his tea. It's hard to say whether the tightness in his expression pertains to contents of the conversation or his cup. "...they absolutely know you exist. If they are not complete and utter fools, I should not think it unlikely they are expecting you to do exactly what you are doing." "Been -- kind of painful never talking about it, to be honest." Something in DJ's posture seems a little more relaxed as he leans against the counter. Sips at his juice, watches Jax stir at his cooking. His eyes flick to Matt, though only briefly. "Gosh," he says, quietly, "they've got -- how many of your team locked up, now? If they're not complete and utter fools, I think it's likely they expect you to do exactly what you're doing. Are you going to let that stop you?"