ArchivedLogs:Furry Friends

Furry Friends
Dramatis Personae Jax, Billy, Micah, Lucien
In Absentia	2 February 2015 '
Location <NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side
Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to plentiful artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse. It's cold outside but that isn't touching the pleasant warmth in here -- it is touching the crowds, though, quiet and pretty empty inside the cafe. Probably equal parts because it's a Monday evening and because of the snowy-icy weather outside. There are only a few occupied tables, the barista using the quiet to catch up on some reading behind the counter. Jax hasn't actually put in an order, yet. With no line he's not in any rush to get to the counter -- he's at a table, standing, slowly peeling down out of his outerwear. Draping his shiny rainbow-star-dotted jacket over the back of his chair (the stars fade off it, leaving it just silver-metallic, once it's hanging there), unwinding his scarf, shucking hat and mittens to tuck all these things into various jacket pockets. Underneath he's in a sweater, gradient-faded from pale to dark blue, black skinny jeans embroidered in shiny peacock feathers, tall stompy black and silver boots. His hair is dyed in brilliant blue-green-purple peacock shades, too, and he's still wearing large mirrored sunglasses despite the nighttime. Once the layers are shed he slumps slightly against the table, one hand propped on its surface, the other rubbing fingertips lightly at his temples. Despite the chill and by large being affected by almost every negative (and neutral) influence of his environment, Billy isn't rosy cheeked or red nosed as he passes into Evolve. Unraveling himself from the long, white knitted scarf wrapped over his face and neck, the bleach-blonde queues up trustingly behind someone he assumes is in line, but is not, before ever surveying his surroundings. Waiting, he methodically unbuttons the front of the cream-colored peacoat he wears, revealing more off-white tones of the smart little outfit beneath. Under his shoulder, Billy holds tightly to a clean, white briefcase with the corners and edges of papers sticking out. On the same side, gripped tightly by a white leather glove is the handle of the smallest of animal carriers. It's brand new by the looks of it. With innocent, expressive eyes, he half-dips to check inside but is spooked when he nearly loses his glasses. Once he realizes he isn't at the register... ...he scurries over in that direction. Micah is later than anticipated in his arrival. He is equipped with a pair of neon orange forearm crutches with ice attachments to assist with navigating the weather. Even so, it takes him a bit longer to get from A to B than on a balmy summer day. Hazel eyes busy themselves with scanning in search of one colourful photokinetic while he strips out of (ridiculous) layers of outerwear. Jayne hat, Fourth Doctor scarf, candy corn striped convertible mittens, olive puffy coat...all find themselves bundled together and hung on a single hook by the door. He is left in a zipped-up Batsignal hoodie and jeans, hair sticking up comically from being under the wool hat. Micah also bundles his crutches into a black neoprene carrier and tops the bunch off with that. The mat at the door receives one last swiping of his boots to clear them of snow and moisture before he heads to Jax's table with a growing smile. And woosh, there is a Billy scurrying by. Micah offers a small wave to the young man but isn't certain if it is spotted. Jax leans a little bit more heavily against the table, straightening reflexively when the door opens -- a half-smile that suggests he's anticipating someone. It starts to fade when that Someone doesn't show, but spreads back wide and warm anyway when Billy turns out to be a familiar face /regardless/. He's just pushing away from his table, rubbing again at his temple but then dropping his arm to his side, when Micah comes in. One arm hooks casual-familiar around his husband, a quick squeeze, a quick peck on the cheek. "Hiii, honey-honey." And a little bit more projected, towards the register: "Hey Billy! Ohgosh, what d'you got there?" He's bouncing away from Micah already, dropping a little bit lower so that he can PEER. Into the animal carrier. Pale lips spreading to reveal an even whiter smile, Billy half-bounces in response to Jax. BUT HE DOESN'T BOUNCE THE CARRIER. "Hey!" He bubbles up in a hushed tone as he saddles up to the couple, "It's a puppy! Oh my God!" Billy wets his lips nervously, holding out a hand to correct himself, "Gosh." You can never be too safe. Struggling to juggle his belongings he slowly raises the carrier to be eye level with the two men. Of course, with all the plush, baby-blue fluff inside it might be hard to make out the white tribble-like fist-sized ball sleeping in the corner. “Hey, sugar.” Micah catches Jax up in a tight hug, releasing him in time to go bouncing off. Chuckling, he follows along at a slower pace. “Oh. Oh, that's not just a bag. That's like a critter case. For a tiny critter.” Leaning over Jax's shoulder, he peers right along with him. “S'that one'a B's Tribbles?” comes out before he realises that it might be awkward if the answer is /no/. "Oh oh my gosh oh my /gosh/." Even kind of crouched down Jax manages to bounce on his toes, a small flutter of colourful light dancing around him in his sudden burst of excitement. He straightens when Billy hefts the carrier, his smile bright too. "It's jus' a /fluffball/ -- no no I think it's a /real/ puppy." Though suddenly as he peers in at the furball he seems uncertain: "It /is/ a real puppy right? Not jus' a /fuzz/?" From inside the lush crate, the ball of white fluff peers over at Jax with a pair of cold beady, black eyes. Roughly the size of a large hamster, the creature inside stomps forward and lets out an intimidating, "G'ruff!" Craning up his neck, the teacup puppy proudly sports a crisp baby-blue bowtie...that was probably made to fit a ferret. "My father surprised me with an early birthday present," Billy gushes, "He got one and I got one! And he's not supposed to shed or something! I have no idea what to do with him! I've never had a pet in my life!" There's a lot of gesturing going on with Billy's free hand. The guy is excited. "Do you want to take him out??" He side-steps and smiles to the barista and orders his coffee, turning over his shoulder before the girl leaves to pour it, "Are you two already all set or?" The door opens again, quiet this time to admit Lucien. Not really all that bundled for the cold, he's only in a slim-fit dark peacoat and a deep green scarf already unwound and draped loosely around his neck. He's unbuttoning the coat with one hand as he slips over towards the line, a very small smile tugging at his lips. An equally small tip of his head given to the others. "My goodness. Did your luggage just -- woof." He seems rather charmed by this, moreso than put out. "Honey, y'sound like Dashie," Micah giggles at Jax's excitement. "Oh, s'a puppy! Gotcha. All I could see was the fuzz at first. Didn't know they /came/ that small away from a momma-pup." His eyes widen at the description of gifts and first-time pet experience. "Oh...oh wow. S'a lotta gift if you've never had no animals b'fore. Did your dad get you a puppy care guide or recommend a vet or anythin'?" Lucien's arrival utterly steals his attention, though. "Luci!" He bounces to his feet, closing the few steps between them quickly before...all but /audibly/ putting on brakes to keep from pounce-hugging the other man. It's a much smaller half-hug, carefully avoiding skin contact, that is finally delivered. "S'been a minute." "No I ain't ordered yet we was jus' waitin' on a -- oh gosh /can/ I?" There's another bounce at the offer to /hold/ the fluffball. "Birthday-puppy, oh /gosh/. Y'done -- never had a pet afore /ever/? D'you -- know what --" His teeth scrape over his lip briefly. "Do you -- /did/ you get guides or nothin' cuz if y'need a crash-course in Puppy I've had a few. -- /Luci/. Luci there's a /puppy/ in there he's only about as big as a seedpuff. -- Ain't you half froze you look half froze." Billy is all too happy to grin and answer, "No," to Micah's very reasonable questions, "Do you think I could download one on like, my kindle?" He blink-blinks his own TOTALLY REASONABLE question to the whole group before turning to Lucien, whose appearance causes him to pale and regain some decorum. "Oh. Yes. It. Woof'd. Sorry," he looks around to see if anyone is bothered by the "dog." Spaghetti-like, the blonde's arm arches to accommodate his former classmate, should Jax want to remove the tiny bishon-poo from his, let's just call it what it is, purse. "Ah --" Whatever Lucien may have been about to say is curtailed by Hug. He was likely expecting Hug, given present company. He reacts to Hug with a minimum of stiffening; only a faint ripple of tensed muscles, a small back-pat of return affection. Brief. Prim. "I only saw your husband just Saturday. That should count for something." Perhaps he is teasing. His expression is deadpan, though. He disengages from the encounter, taking a half-step back to a safer distance from which to examine both Friends and Dog alike. There's still a small curl of smile touching his lips. "It does seem like some sort of instruction manual might be -- handy. As surprise presents go, living creatures --" For a moment his eyes settle on the fluffball. "Well. /They/ likely appreciate some planning." “Y'sure can download things. An', like, the ASPCA an' other places'll give you a basic adoption guide kinda run-down. D'you have all the...foods an' dishes an' leashes an' material needs kinda things worked out? Y'can run internet searches t'find the closest vet an' emergency vet t'your apartment with good reviews, too.” Micah's lips twitch over to one side in amused mock-offense at Lucien's comment. “B'lieve it or not, we're /actually/ two separate people. I know. Surprises most folks.” "Totally could download one, are you all set up with --" Jax's question trails off when Micah asks just what he was about to. His cheeks flush deep red, nose crinkling up. "... kinda givin' a lie t'this two-separate-people charade." He reaches out happily to scoop the puppy into his arms, cradling Dog carefully against his chest. "Oh /gosh/ he's teeny. Do you got a name yet? Luci, you totally should get a dog. Somethin' snuggly. Fluffy. S'impossible not t'smile around dogs." Billy beams as the palm-sized puppy is lifted into view, chest pressing against his shirt, "Oh, we went shopping for everything before he had to drive back to Connecticut." His head nods and shakes in a circle motion, obviously somewhat overwhelmed, "He's so little, though-" He points in the puppy's direction. How much trouble could he be? In true teacup fashion, the snow-white puppy's soulless charcoal eyes settle on Lucien's gaze, meeting him without even the tiniest showing of fear. "I think I'm going to name him Taylor." ... "Swift." Billy bounces, biting his bottom lip, "I promise, I'm totally going to look up stuff about dogs." Someone should probably confirm that he doesn't just mean 'outfits' when he says 'stuff.' "Little or no, he will pee on your things and chew them up all the same." Lucien's nostrils flare, a very small breath exhaled. He reaches out, fingers scritching lightly at the puppy's head. "Mmm," is his response to the suggestion of getting a dog of his /own/. "Matt thinks the same thing." His quietly-accented voice is mild, not much inflection there to say what /he/ thinks of this idea. "Tea?" He nods towards the counter. "And perhaps a croissant. Matt wants a chocolate one." "Shoot, sugar. We couldn't be the same person for a minute. You'd hafta wear /my/ clothes even /sometimes/. I'd hafta figure out how t'paint. An' you'd hafta help Spence with his science projects. Just ain't workin'." Micah chuckles as he leans in to bop his shoulder fondly against Jax's. "So y'got chew toys an' housebreakin' pads an' doggy bags an' beds an' a toothbrushin' kit an' shampoo an' a brush an' a bed an' all those things, too?" Honestly, he's trying not to sound /too/ worried about the animal's well-being. "An' all set up for when t'start vaccinations an' heart worm medications an' other pest prevention?" His head tilts in Luci's direction. "D'you like dogs? I mean. I'm sure Matt'n the kids'd get on well with one. But you'd hafta, too." Micah's eyes widen, suddenly remembering that there is food and drink to be had here. "Ohgosh, I need a chocolate croissant now. I am entirely too suggestible. An' a chocolate chai. With cashew cream. I'm in a dessert mood." "Findin' a vet'sgonna be important, too. An' d'you know how t'go about trainin' him? There's books on it but findin' obedience classes might be useful if y'ain't never done it afore. Cuz tiny or no you /an'/ him is gonna have a way happier life if he's proper behaved an' proper socialized." Jax's fingers curl in against the puppy's fur, his shoulder bumping back up against his husband's. He scritches lightly against the dog's side, eying the menu. "Raspberry mocha. Almond milk. Pleeease. An' a cookie if anything's vegan. -- Taylor Swift is pretty much fantastic so that's -- solid. S'hard t'not love Taylor Swift." Billy apologizes and takes his own coffee, side-stepping out of the way for Lucien as he brings the mug haphazardly to his mouth. His saliva turns the top level of dark, hot coffee to crystal clear. Micah and Jax's list makes the blonde's head spin, "I got a bed. Toothbrush-?" He turns his head, as if to toss his hair would but he had long enough hair to toss, "May I please get a chocolate croissant, too? Actually?" He turns back to the conversation, patting his suitcase with a gloved hand, "I feel as if I should be writing this down. You sure know a lot about dogs." He peeks over to Lucien, joking, "Not gonna lie. It maybe sounds as if they're trying to convince me not to keep this and for you to take him." He turns back away bashfully, expecting the comment to fall flat. Taylor Swift starts to lick and later, attempts to test-chew the Jax's fingers. The creature's tail wags like a hummingbird's wing, probably at the promise of causing pain. Lucien's lips press together at Jax's order of coffee, but the look of disappointment is brief. He steps up to the counter, offering the barista a small smile, a brief exchange of pleasantries before the order. Mocha, chai, two chocolate croissants, one plain croissant, a vegan chai-spice snickerdoodle, a blue mountain oolong for himself. "He comes from some sort of hill country -- I am fairly certain animal husbandry is written into the bones of his people." He doesn't specify /which/ of the two Southerners he means by this. They come as a unit anyway, right? A small tug of smile curls his lips after he has paid. "I can appreciate dogs." His eyes slip back to Taylor Swift as he reclaims his credit card and steps aside from the counter. "But that is not a dog. It is a loofah with legs. You needn't worry, I have no designs on your birthday present." Micah can't help but snicker a little at the image of Luci with the tiny doglike creature. Definite 'no' there. "Ohgosh, honey, no. I'm sure y'all will get along swimmin'ly. S'just that there's a lot that goes into takin' care of an animal an' it's not somethin' t'take on lightly. I mean, even figurin' out who's gonna take care of 'em durin' the day if y'gotta be out for hours is a big deal for puppies. Y'might wanna...just study up a lot an' prepare once y'get home." Pausing from the conversation for a moment, he puts in his actual order for his chocolatey goodness at the counter. "Me'n Jax both come from farmin' folks. Lotsa critters, on top'a the usual cats an' dogs an' whatnot." His cheeks light up a pleasant enough shade of pink at what he /assumes/ is Luci's teasing. "Oh gosh no. Ain't that at all, it's jus' -- can get a bit overwhelmin' if y'don't even know where t'/start/ with a new critter --" Jax scrapes his teeth against his lip, thoughtfully. "If y'like I could write this all in a email? Send it t'you so s'all writ down? -- No." Lower and firmer, this last is to the puppy and not to the others, presumably, as Jax pries his fingers away from TSwift's mouth. Further reinforcement of this comes in the form of an end to petting, for now, just holding the dog quietly for the moment with his fingers out of tiny-toothy-reach. "Yup, beasthandlin'. It's the way of our folk. S'kinda like a Disney movie out there, m'ma sings from the window an' birds swoop in t'do the chores." In slow motion and quite theatrically, Taylor Swift opens his tiny mouth wide and arches around to try and get flesh, but can't. As a result, the puppy just looks rather derpy. "You don't have to go through all that trouble," Billy laughs at the dog, holding up the carrier for Jax to replace him, "I can always wrack one of your brains tomorrow. I'm sure I'll see one of you. I have a class first bell, anyway." The Disney image described does pop into Billy's mind, but instead of little birds, he imagines sharks swooping in. He tremors. Retreating a step, he nods to Lucien and then, smiles to the two shirefolk, "I should probably get him home, though. It's been a big day." "If you told me, Jackson, that you sang doves down each morning to pick your wardrobe and do your hair, I would almost believe it." Lucien lifts two fingers to his forehead, a casual-lazy salute as Billy says he has to go. "Good luck with him." His attention shifts back to the others. He leans back against the counter, elbow propped against it. "We would get something -- /doggier/. Perhaps a working dog. Or a sporting one." “Our chickens wander right up t'the back porch an' present eggs for breakfast. No lie.” Micah manages not to grin as he plays along with Jax's story-telling, though the corners of his lips do twitch a bit. “Of course we can have a chat 'fore first class t'morrow. Ain't no trouble for us t'write things down if y'want, though. I type 'bout as fast as I talk anymore.” He nods as Billy takes his leave. “Have a good night, sugar. Just take a look at some basics on a reputable website when y'get in, maybe. Get the two of you through the night okay.” Tapping his fingertips to his lips, Micah 'hmms' softly. “Y'got a favourite breed?” "'course. Don't want t'overwhelm the tiny-one." Jax nods, reaching out to carefully tuck Taylor Swift back into his -- purse. "Have a good night, honey-honey, I'll see y'tomorrow." He smiles bright up at Lucien. "The dogs go in in the mornin's an' milk the cows, too. Then bring us the buckets." He trots off to pick up the food when it arrives, slipping off to the table with it. "For you, I'd definitely think somethin' smart. Maybe a pinscher or a collie -- though I don't know how much you'd love all the /sheddin'/ on everything. Collies is /all/ over fluff." Billy re-adjusts his belongings to allow for holding his coffee, "See you tomorrow. Bright and early," he waggles his blonde eyebrows, nodding again before slipping out into a gust of bitter-cold wind. Lucien shakes his head, straightening to turn and claim their drinks from the counter to help Jax move them to the table. "Something smart," he agrees, mildly. "Honestly, Matt would not countenance buying a dog from a breeder regardless. If we /did/ end up with one I am sure it would be a shelter mongrel of indeterminate origin." His lips thin. "And likely some fluff." “Got squirrels plantin' an' weedin' now, too.” Micah leans against the counter to wait for foodthings to arrive. “Yeah, I ain't never had a breeder-pet afore, neither. Seems like an odd process, 'less you're needin' a real good huntin' dog or herder. Somethin' specific. S'enough critters out there already need adoptin' if y'just want a companion animal.” His grin spreads wide and lopsided. “Of course. Can't do without some fluff. Just makes life better.” "Good on Matt, then." Jax settles in at the table with their food, snagging his mocha from Lucien and curling his fingers around it gratefully. "Oh gosh that reminds me ain't so long now 'fore we're gonna hafta get garden-things started again." /This/ prompts an excited bounce in his chair. "Even jus' /thinkin'/ about that makes the world seem brighter." Lucien's smile returns, small and brief, but decidedly pleased. "Spring is coming. Soon enough. It is getting to be time to prepare for it. Even if some of us have to do it /ourselves/." He eases into a chair, himself, pulling his own mug in front of him and his croissant as well. "... I suppose I could put covers. On the furniture." Micah collects what remaining goods there are to tote over to the table, plunking down into a chair and claiming his own tea and pastry. "Mmn, spring. Always seems like it's never gonna happen again, come dead'a winter. Can't wait t'get out in the gardens again. Can't let the squirrels have /all/ the fun, after all." His tongue curls into the cashew cream, stealing small dollops of it while he waits for the chai to cool. "Could do. An' if y'get a not-puppy, they'd be outta the worst of the chewin' an' housebreakin' an' all that, most likely." "S'comin'." Jax's cup is starting to blossom, gently glowing petals unfolding from the steam, curling vines draping themselves down over the side of the mug. Spreading out onto the table to unfold new flowers, bright and vivid, new feathery fronds of leaves. They're not really any flowers found in nature, fantastic shapes and glowing neon colours highlighted in dusting of glitter or metallic sheen. "Not soon enough. I can't hardly wait."