ArchivedLogs:Birth Announcements

Birth Announcements
Dramatis Personae Micah, Jax
In Absentia	4 January 2015 '
Location <NYC> Candyland - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
The stairs lead up into a landing hall, bright as well with a set of bay windows and a wide cushion-strewn ledge beneath them at its far end. To the right of the landing the first doorway opens into the bathroom, warmly coloured in yellows and reds and sandy tiles; its large bathtub-shower also holds a mosaic on one wall, strange fire-creatures and manticores echoed in the small fiery faeries sprinkled at sporadic intervals around the rest of the room. Past the bathroom on the right-hand side is a smaller door into a linen closet before the actual door into Spencer's bedroom. Spencer's sturdy furniture set has been designed with rambunctious children in mind, most of its structure climbable with a loft-bed connected by a short tunnel to an also-lofted reading nook with a sliding door to turn it into its own private cave; the desk and dresser sit beneath the bed and there is a shelving unit beneath the platform that serves also as steps up into it. A slide down off the bed falls down into large squishy beanbag and the whole of the structure has been designed and painted reminiscent of a spaceship, a theme echoed in the way the closet doors have been painted to look like the TARDIS. On the left-hand side the first door leads into the master bedroom, bright-lit not just from its huge windows and skylight but from a rather exorbitant overabundance of lamps. It's colourful in here, the hand-crafted wood furniture (king bed against the left-hand wall, pair of small nightstands to either side of it, a pair of dressers flanking the closet on the right, a large desk with a multitude of drawers and shelves along the back) cheerfully painted, the walls home to plentiful artwork, brightly coloured glass figurines scattered around the shelves and stained-glass suncatchers hanging in the windows. One set of windows leads out onto a balcony, stretching out to share with the guest bedroom adjacent; it's set up for /lounging/, a large hammock at one side, a pair of hanging net chairs flanking the table on the other. Next to the master bedroom is the smaller guest bedroom, sunny-yellow and furnished with queen bed, dresser, a small desk of its own; doors here lead out into the balcony as well. At the end of the hallway shortly before the window nook, a hatch in the ceiling drops down a rope-ladder that leads up into the tiny attic-space; not so much a proper /floor/ as it is a sloped-ceiling nook of space beneath the roof, it nevertheless has its own circular window and skylights and rather than left unfinished it's been furnished with beanbag and folded futon-mattress and a tiny low table with drawers tucked beneath it. Sunday afternoon and laundry day is in full swing! Though a tedious enough task, it does fill the house with warmth and citrus-herbal scents to combat the dismal, grey rain outdoors. Things have been settling into a bit of a rhythm, learning to time chores, showers, and naps during the two and three hour windows afforded by the baby being asleep. Which they are, just now, letting things get folded and tucked away. Micah is also dressed warmly: Firefly hoodie over forest green henley and kelly green tee (on which a jubilant T-rex wielding a pair of adaptive reaching aids jumps under the heading 'UNSTOPPABLE!"), lined jeans, and soot sprite slippers. His hair is the sort of spiky-mussed that implies a lack of tending after showering, though it is long since dried. He sets aside a small stack of baby clothes to move into the dresser in the spare room (which is /slowly/ starting to look more nursery like), all modified with elastic or snap openings where appropriate for the sake of Tail and Wings. The varied approaches imply experimenting with what will work best where. Jax is just coming up from downstairs -- he's still dressed from church, slacks and a dress shirt, tie loosened but his blazer still on. He looks pale, kind of shaky, his magenta-streaked black hair damp. Quietly, he crawls up onto the bed, doing his best to avoid toppling over folded laundry (though he /does/ settle himself /atop/ some of the unfolded pile), curling up on his side without bothering to undress. His eye closes. Then opens again. "I went to a butcher. Picked up some..." His brow creases briefly. "Cow. Blood. Dusk gets sick if he drinks too much a time'a the packets from the Clinic." "Hi, hon. Eri's been asleep for a little bit. Thought I'd get some laundry foldin' in while the chance was there." Micah reaches up to run a hand along Jax's back as he makes his way in. "Y'need some juice? Lookin' a little pale there." He switches the sunlamp on, angling it at the bed a little better. "Thanks, sugar. Yeah, we're gonna hafta come up with alternative food sources. 'Specially as Eri gets bigger. I think if we warm it an' can put it into a source with a mock heartbeat, maybe we can convince 'em t'take from it. That's where I was thinkin' t'adapt a Tribble or somethin' like it. The purrin' an' all might help. Add the guts out of a heartbeat pillow...a little chamber for changin' out bags? Would hafta come up with a dif'rent exterior, though. Not all fur, at least. Would be hard t'sanitise..." He quickly finds homes for the folded clothes still on the bed to give Jax more space. "B didn't seem -- real keen on helpin'." Jax reflexively turns towards the light, his eye closing again. "Or bein' in the same room. Or talkin' to us. Or --" He exhales softly, curling knees up towards his chest. "As Eri gets bigger." This echo comes with a small frown. "Yeah. I mean not even that long. S'bite feels /way/ more potent than Dusk's an' -- I don't want t'think what takin' that kinda drug that often would do to -- we jus' can't. Keep. This." "If ze don't mind, I think I could handle it m'self. The modifications. Just...wanted t'see if ze might wanna help first." Micah's words tighten a little with this last as he nods at the observation. "I meant alternative as in...non-human. Even with gettin' packets from the Clinic an' havin' donors outside the Clinic, we're prob'ly gonna be talkin' volumes as ain't really sustainable eventually. Of course we wanna minimise the feedin' straight from people as quick as possible. For our health /an'/ theirs. An'...discouragin' bitin' folks at random. If there's a particular thing that is the one thing that food comes from--or small collection of 'em, which seems more likely--that'll help, maybe." He chews on his lip, watching Jax's tired expression. "I'll get juice an' cookies. Back in a second." Which holds true. He returns with a plate of ninjabread men and a tall glass of cranberry-peach juice in short order. "Yeah. I just -- just. I don't think. That ze..." Jax trails off again, head shaking. "Yeah. Hopefully that'll help." His tone is mostly flat. When Micah returns he's still curled up; he doesn't open his eye at the food delivery. "... are we s'posed t'make some kinda. Announcement. Or somethin'. About Goblin bein' -- born. Hatched. Thing. I feel like people usually make announcements about this kinda thing but nobody -- knows. Except -- well. Some people know. Horus an' Joshua an' Isra an'. Ryan an' the pups an' -- that's a lotta folks. Flicker found out from Hive. Says he'll build furniture. For us." "Ze doesn't like the fact that Dusk an' Isra didn't just...do away with the egg. As soon as it happened." Micah frowns at this a moment before forcing his mouth out of that configuration. He has less success with the little worry lines in his brow. "Usually folks send out little...ugh. Those 'It's A Boy'/It's a Girl!' cards with a picture an' a birthdate an' a weight an' length on it. I just haven't known what t'do with this. It's been so /hard/ for so many people I haven't felt...right. Doin' the usual baby things. Baby showers an' announcements an' all that. Usually new babies come pre-set with this...celebratory feelin', y'know? I just feel like /doin'/ that'd be insensitive t'Dusk an' Isra an' the pups... I've got a Skype set up with m'momma t'night. Was gonna introduce 'em then. To m'parents. It /so/ doesn't help that this all happened so fast." Micah settles on the bed next to Jax, moving the juice glass close to his husband's hand for ease of access. "Oh, bless 'im. I'll hafta have some brainstormin' sessions 'bout how t'make...stronger an' better containin' cribs an' playpens without makin' 'em just look like cages. I don't want...that. Been thinkin' on it for a bit." "Pups don't like that but. I don't think it's just that. I mean they're talkin' to Dusk an' Isra more'n they're talkin' to /us/. I think they're mad that we --" Jax shakes his head again, uncurling just enough to slide a little closer to his husband, resting his cheek against Micah's thigh. "I wouldn't know who t'tell. Or how. Or. Gosh. I should call m'folks. I jus'. Kinda glad they don't got no idea how to Skype. I ain't -- entirely sure they could handle seein' --" He rolls over onto his back, head still resting on Micah's leg. "Yeah. I don't know nothin' 'bout -- what kinda designs -- but somethin'. Secure." "I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean t'make such a mess of things with the pups. I just...didn't want t'leave Dusk an' Isra with...an' if there was a chance for this kid t'have a life that wasn't like /theirs/ was..." Micah's head shakes, cutting off the litany of reasons from spilling out again. "I love you. An' them. An'...I feel like I ruined this good thing that you had with 'em an' it weren't..." His head shakes again. "I don't regret sayin' that /I'd/ take Eri, but I feel like I messed everythin' up for the rest of you an' I'm sorry." His eyes press closed for a moment before looking down at Jax, returning to the rest of the conversation. "M'momma's a softer touch than I am, even. She'll just be upset I didn't tell 'er sooner...but things were so up in the air I never found a good time to. Prob'ly Pops won't talk at me for a month or two while he's processin'. Then he'll remember I'm up here an' he don't hafta deal with me hardly ever, so it'll be okay." "It wasn't /you/, honey-honey. Was a decision we made t'gether." Jax's arm curls across his chest, fingers pressing down against his ribs. "I jus'. Feel like I'm losin' my kids an'." His head shakes again. "-- An' if /you'd/ said you'd take 'em an' I hadn't where would we have --" But this cuts off, too, with a hard swallow. "I already told 'em that we /was/ gonna adopt 'em, I jus'. Don't think knowin' that in the abstract'll really prepare." “We wouldn't've, honey. If you didn't want. But I can't help but feel like I pushed you into this somehow. I just meant I didn't...regret for /me/. But I hate what it's doin' t'everyone else. I feel like I...took your kids from you or somethin'.” Micah sets the plate and glass on the bedside table, since they aren't being touched. It frees up his hand to drag its back quickly across his eyes. “I don't know how t'make any of it any better. So I'm just...sorry. I don't know.” Jax shakes his head, hand lifting to press cold fingers to Micah's cheek. His thumb brushes beneath his husband's eyes. "You didn't -- it weren't. I should've." He exhales shakily, shifting in a little bit closer to nuzzle against Micah's stomach. "I don't know what to do, either. I'm just. Scared. The pups, I. They need --" He bites down on his lip, hard. "An' even if they /was/ okay with it even jus' tryin' to think what -- what all the road ahead is gonna look like for us an' Goblin is -- I guess all new parents feel kinda overwhelmed, though." “You're sure? I'm always...hesitant. T'ask you for somethin' big 'cause I know you're so eager t'do for me an' please me an' I try. Not t'let that enter into big things. But it prob'ly does.” Micah pulls Jax half into his lap, tugging him close to wrap in his arms. “I love you. I love you an' them an' I just never imagined that they'd...react like this. I guess I don't know them as well as I should. Which is also my fault, but I'd... I knew there was a pretty good chance that Eri would be difficult. That they'd have a lot of special needs. An'...they came out way at the far end of the scale of what I expected. But /that/ I was prepared for, much as I /could/ be. That was what /I/ could do. I wasn't prepared for losin' folks over it.” His shoulders sag a little. “An' I love Eri. They're mine an' they need me an' I just melt when that little tail wraps 'round my hand. An' when they purr an' chew on m'glove. An' I feel like I shouldn't /say/ that out loud because people're so upset. An' that's hard, too. I just didn't expect everyone. T'be so upset. Or that they wouldn't talk to us anymore. I just missed it. I missed that whole variable in the equation. An' that /is/ my fault.” "I'm --" Jax starts to answer, but then stops. He sags in against Micah, a little bit shivery, a little bit drooping. "Not sure of much right now. /I/ did -- imagine. That the pups might -- /I/ should've. I jus' went about this all /wrong/ an' I should've talked t'them /first/ an' I didn't. An' this after Shane -- he already got so upset with us afore. After Tola was born. 'bout puttin' everyone else's needs in front of theirs an' I jus' done that in the biggest way an' I don't know how to --" He quiets, tears squeezing out to slip down his cheek when he closes his eye again. "I /knowed/ we'd lose folks over it. After what Mel went through with Tola? I jus'. This ain't 'folks' this is. Our /kids/ an'." He drops off into quiet again. There's a small flutter of lights at Micah's talk of loving Eridani, his own shoulders the tiniest bit tenser in counterpoint to Micah's sagging ones. The tiny inclination of his head in answer to this is maybe a nod, though it is accompanied by only silence. "I know they got upset 'bout Tola. But I thought...that was just 'cause Mel didn't decide t'get an abortion. Which wasn't fair, neither. An' they seem okay with her /now/. This was...that was... We was just offerin' a place for this kid t'be if Dusk an' Isra couldn't bring themselves to...but then couldn't raise 'em. It wasn't the same at all." Micah struggles to keep his tone more even as the words just keep spilling out. "We should've talked to 'em first. I just...didn't know when. In figurin' things out with Dusk an' Isra an'...it just never...got t'be a good time 'til it did an' I'd definitely go back an' change /that/ if I could." He starts chewing on his lip again as Jax quiets and tenses. "I know I shouldn't've said it. Apologies, I knew it'd... I'm just tryin' not to upset anyone anymore but it's hard 'cause Eri also deserves t'be... They should feel loved. An' like they're welcome. An' good. Maybe we should just send out a name announcement, then. Just...that the egg hatched on January 2nd and that they have a name. We just won't...send one t'the twins maybe. They already know." He chews a small, ruby bead of blood loose on his lip before realising and stopping the worrying at it. "We should sit down with the twins. Sometime while Eri isn't there, I think. First. We'd been meanin' t'do that b'fore but then they hatched /so/ quickly..." "Sweetie there ain't no /just/ about this, this ain't -- ain't like offerin' someone a /couch/ for a --" Jax struggles upright, sliding off Micah's lap to sit beside him. He scrubs the back of his hand beneath his eye, this time. "No, no, you shouldn't. Feel like you gotta be quiet about -- you /should/. They /should/ feel loved an'. An' all that, you. Don't hafta -- be quiet about." He bites down on his lip again, sitting back at the head of the bed and curling his knees up against his chest. "S'on me to deal with. You don't gotta feel bad about -- lovin' your own. Kid." "I know. I know. I didn't mean it like that. Just that we didn't /make/ this baby. That part...if someone's gonna feel blamey. I'd think people'd feel blamey on that part. But we didn't. Do that." Micah's brow furrows as Jax pulls away, a hand reaching out to pet at his husband's arm. "I don't feel guilty for feelin' it. Just that maybe I shouldn't be makin' a big deal about it when everyone's nerves're so frayed on the topic. I'll just...tell Eri. An' maybe m'momma. An' try t'keep a sock in it the rest of the time." He lifts a stripy purple sock off of the bed to illustrate, even going so far as to pretend he's going to stuff it into his mouth. There's got to be some attempt at levity /sometime/. "I ain't talkin' about people, m'talkin' about our kids. Who got every right t'blame /us/ for bringin' this into /our/ family without even a word to them beforehand." Jax leans against Micah's side, head drooping to rest on Micah's shoulder. His shoulders just shake at the sock-joking, further tears squeezing out as he scrunches his eye tightly closed. "Sorry," he whispers. "Sorry, I think I. Am. Tired maybe. Sorry." Micah ditches the sock back to the laundry pile. "Okay. Okay, honey...I get it. An' it's...all really kinda awful. But I don't know what t'/do/ short of arrangin' that...talk again. An' hopin'." He reaches up to pet at Jax's hair, his other arm curling around his shoulders. "How 'bout I dump what washin' hasn't been folded yet back into the basket. Then we get you outta the uncomfortable formal clothes an' I give you a shoulder rub 'til you fall asleep? Look like y'could use a nap, maybe." He leans in a little closer to place a kiss to Jax's temple. "Love you, honey." "I don't. Know what t'do neither." Jax's words are a little hitched, his cheek pressing to Micah's shirt. "I don't. Know I. My head's been too busy to --" His palms scrub against his face, and he swings his legs off the side of the bed. "I should go check on Spence, feel like now /he's/ gettin' the short end of. Of." Another shake of his head, fingers raking through is hair to comb it back into order. Micah hugs Jax closer with that press, then slowly lets him go when he moves away. “Yeah, it's...older sibling syndrome on steroids. New babies're time sinks /usually/. I been poppin' in here an' there. He was buried in the world's deepest pile of K'nex last I checked.” He just nods, staying where he is. “I'll..finish up here an' join you if Eri's still sleepin' by the time I'm done. Rain check on the shoulder rub, though, okay? An' you let me know whenever y'need a nap. Still winter out there. Gotta take care of yourself, too.” "Right -- right." Jax sounds a little distracted with this acknowledgment of the reminder to take care of himself. When he turns back to look at Micah his expression is brighter -- more colour in his pale cheeks, the shadows missing beneath his eyes, tear-streaks gone, bright makeup dusted back on his skin. "OK. Right. K'nex. Maybe we'll build something great." The quick smile that flits across his face is bright and warm as ever before he turns to head out. The made-up happy face and less-than-stellar agreement to /actually/ take care of himself don't brighten Micah any. He summons a little smile to send his husband off, however. "Mmn. Eager t'see it. Hopefully be there in a bit m'self. Give 'im kisses for me 'til I make it." "Sure thing, sugar." Jax's head bows as he turns away, slipping out and closing the door behind him quietly.