ArchivedLogs:(Brief) Relief

(Brief) Relief
Dramatis Personae Hercules, Jax, Tag
In Absentia	2015-10-24 "I know, it's a bit uh, rose coloured glasses, right?"
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. Saturday afternoon, and the Cafe is pack, which is probably expected by regular customers. The crowd is boisterous, with many chatting to each other, even across multiple tables. One table, however, has but as single customer. Tall and broad-chested, he sits hunched over at his table, sipping something hot from a really large mug and reading through a large and colourful book. His complexion seems a bit wan, and every so often he pauses in his reading to cough politely into a handkerchief. "-- like /entire world/'s jus' gone an' all there is is mud an' water an' more mud --!" The door to the cafe has just opened with a loud jangle of bell, a spill of cool wind from the overcast but mild day outside -- and a /torrent/ of rain that comes with no accompanying /wetness/. Just a rush of stormclouds, driving downpour, a /river/ of muddy water /gushing/ in the door to flood the entry-way chest-deep in swirling-rushing mess that leaves many of the patrons nearest the door scrambling to push their tables back, gather their things, before they realize there is no substance to the storm. Then, just as sudden as it started, the mess vanishes into nothingness, the cafe returned to its earlier peace. "-- an' so terrible," Jax is continuing as though he didn't even notice the illusionary chaos he brought with him, "houses jus' swept away --" His head shakes, hand scuffing through his hair. He lets the cafe door close behind him, shedding his jacket -- a heavy black canvas one with a smiling yellow sun beadazzled onto its back, the jacket is damp and heavily mudstained. His boots and cargo pants are similarly mudspattered, though dry; underneath the jacket he wears a plain grey tee. His hair, at least, is bright; vividly dyed in bright peacock-hues of purple and blue and green. Large mirrored sunglasses shade his eyes, his face oddly lacking its usual adornment of myriad piercings. Still bright glittering makeup, though. Chipped oilslick-rainbowy nailpolish on his nails. Much, much quieter, a mutter only loud enough for his companion beside him: "... an' leavin' Shane jus' feels -- /nngh/. I mean I /know/ t'ain't for long an' I /know/ he can take care'a himself I jus' -- /nnnngh/. Okay right. /Food/. Right." At Jax's side, Tag does not look much alarmed by the storm that just swept into the cafe with them. The smaller man is dressed in a pale blue jacket with Rainbow Dash's cutie mark patched onto the shoulders, scuff-kneed black jeans with bold yellow lightning bolts along the outseams, and boots a swirl of many-colored paints not yet mixed into oblivion. His shoulder-length hair is electric purple with metallic pink tips, the rear half gathered into a ponytail but the front and sides hanging loose in his face. "It sure sounds like he's needed out there," he says, shrugging out of his own jacket (underneath, he wears a red shirt with a big yellow cartoon star on the chest). "...like a lot more people than just you all are needed out there, honestly. I hope he's doing okay. I hope *Joshua's* doing okay." When he arrives at the counter he gives the black-clad (also purple-haired!) barista a friendly smile and wave before rattling off his order without even looking at the menu. "...and whatever Jax wants." Hercules did look alarmed at the torrent of stormclouds and water rushing through the door. He was far enough away that he hesitated, watching in awe even as others began to scatter away. The second look of surprise is reserved for the sudden disappearance of the storm and waves. Coughing, he settles back down into his seat, grinning at the two colourful men who walk in through the 'wake' of the storm. "You owe some of us clean pairs of shorts!", Hercules calls out as the din begins to return to its previous volume. Jax ducks his head in a sheepish cringe of semi-apology at the people scattering from the door, throwing a lopsided smile back towards the counter; the purple-haired barista is giving the entering pair a /smirk/, while the taller be-tentacled teen currently in the middle of crafting a drink has paused, one hand scuffing against his face and brows lifted at Jax. Jax just shrugs, helpless, following Tag up towards the counter: "-- Oh, gosh, I need a lentil soup an' some'a those coconut tofu bites an', um. Like a half-dozen chocolate-walnut cookies? /Oh/ an' a big --" His hands indicate the size, "beef chili an' a beans an' rice, um, t'go, Joshua's gonna need -- mmph. An' a hazelnut mocha with cashew milk. /That's/ for me." After /his/ order he slides around the counter, disappearing into the back and returning soon after with a roll of paper towels and a spray bottle. Heading over towards one recently-evacuated table, he starts cleaning up a coffee, spilled in the mild wash of panic when he came in. "I can't help your shorts," he finally answers Hercules brightly, "s'your drink aright?" "Oh, sorry, can I have some of those tofu bites, too!" Tag chews on his lower lip as he digs a rainbow canvas wallet from one over-full pocket. "Otherwise I'll just be stealing his..." He looks faintly triumphant when Ravenna gives him a total only slightly less than the bills he had extracted. "Thank you!" The change and another fiver go into the tip jar. He wends his way over to Jax's (smaller, more local) rescue operation, gathering trash and emptied cups. When he deposits the latter into the black plastic bus bin, it suddenly bursts into a riot of color, wildflowers blossoming along its side walls as though painted on in realtime by an invisible hand. "Never a dull day at Evolve, right?" This is not directed solely at Hercules, though he is looking at the large teen as he says so, grin flashing bright. Hercules snorts and nods to Jax. "Yeah, my drink was the thing I was taking with me had those waves been real. I might have ended up drenched, but at least I had coffee." He gestures at the empty chairs at his table. "Saved you a spot, Jax. And one for your friend, too." The large teen offers a wave to Tag, smiling back at the man. "If that was just a small sample of what goes on here, I can understand the place's popularity now. I can't imagine the hilarity during Halloween." "Saved me a spot?" Jax's brows raise in startled confusion at this, his tone shifting into sudden bemusement. "Wait, did you know I was comin'?" His tone sounds genuinely curious, now, his motions halting in the middle of cleaning up the coffee spill as his sunglass-shaded gaze levels onto Hercules. It takes a moment for his thoughts to get back on track. A quiet laugh bubbles out of him when they finally do. "Oh gosh, I feel like this place is popular -- not cuz of -- I mean, this place is popular like Xavier's is popular." Juuust a little wry, his smile crooked. "When you got all of one option, people'll drink their coffee where they can an' be glad of it." "Uh, thanks!" Tag pipes cheerfully at Hercules before returning to the counter to claim his blueberry muffin, the only item he ordered that required no prep. "I'm Tag," he adds as he returns to the spot saved for him. "Who're you?" He hangs sideways over the back of his chair to answer Jax, "Sure, but it probably doesn't hurt that the food and drink and people and decor is all *spectacular* here." Turning back to Hercules, his magenta eyes sparkle with mischief. "Even when it's *not* Halloween." "I really didn't, it's just no one wanted to sit here." Hercules grins and nods to Tag. "Name's Hercules, nice to meet you, Tag." He pauses a moment and coughs into his handkerchief. "I would normally offer to shake hands, but I've got a nasty cold. So take a raincheck on that, yeah?" Looking back to Jax, the large teen nods, "I suppose if it's the only place where mutants can sit, drink coffee and hang out without having to look over their shoulders, it'd be naturally popular. But you need places like this, if we're to have more mutant friendly places. It all starts somewhere, right?" Hercules chuckles and leans back in his seat a little, nodding to Tag. "It is a well designed layout and decor. Even without the Jax enhancements." "Well, it ain't the /only/ place that won't actively kick people out but it's the only one explicitly -- /for/ us, by us --" Jax shrugs. "Kind of geared towards a specific niche." His brows furrow at the mention of nasty cold, a very brief crinkle in his nose. He returns to mopping up the spill, spraying down the table after he's sopped up the worst of it. "Oh, gosh, seems like a few folks 'round the school's been gettin' all sniffly. You sure wanderin' round downtown's the best -- seems like a good weekend t'be curlin' up with tea an' soup an' blankets." There's a slight smile that crosses his face at the mention of 'well designed layout and decor'. Just slight. "Shane's got a big party planned here for Halloween. Oh /gosh/ an' a bigger one planned back home too -- I'm tired jus' thinkin' 'bout it. Or maybe I'm jus' already tired anyway, oh goodness." "Nice to meet you, Hercules, and raincheck accepted." Tag bounces up and down in his seat, devouring his muffin in a few hurried bites before jumping up to claim their drinks and food as the baristas bring them up. He starts in on his chai well before it's really cool enough to drink, and winces. "Oh man, so good!" He pulls a folded up nylon grocery bag from one pocket and unfolds it to carry the food items. "Thanks so much, I think that's all of it!" Arms full, he wanders back to Hercules' table. "Don't mean to sweep in and out of here in such a hurry, but we have foods to deliver. I hope you feel better soon!" Somewhere in the interim, his hair has started turning more pink than purple, and he heads back toward the door, bumping Jax's shoulder with his head. "You finished your disaster relief here?" Hercules shakes his head, "Oh heck no, I don't want to be cooped up while the plague roams the halls. I am not feeling a hundred percent, but I think a bit of fresh air is helping. I don't feel as poorly as I did this morning." He grins to Jack, "As for this cafe, if it remains successful, others will be emboldened to make their own places, by us, for us, yeah? So it's not only stylish, it's worth copying." The large teen raises his eyebrows a little. "Wish I could go to one of Shane's parties, they do sound like they're going to be awesome." He grins at Tag's rush food delivery, and offers the men a wave, "Take care then! See you 'round." "If it remains successful an' safe, I hope so," Jax answers with a bright smile. He wrinkles his nose, looking down at his goopy pile of paper towels. "-- Jus' about," he tells Tag, "I'll catch you up soon." He scoops the pile off the table, carting it over to a nearby trash can. "Well, hopefully your cold won't last till next weekend! Sorely doubt this place is gonna be filled past capacity or nothin'. Or d'you got Halloween plans already elsewhere? The school /is/ throwin' a big dance -- though the club here's gonna be open much later'n that'n." Hercules nods, "Oh, I hope it doesn't last that long either. That would be terrible. And I do have plans to go to Xavier's Halloween dance. I've a date, even. Pretty pleased about that." He rubs a cheek and hmms. "It will be on a Saturday, so I don't have a curfew, yeah? My date does, so I'd be on my own if I did come out. A bit of a downer, that. But I will keep that in mind. I would love to see how this place is on Halloween." The large teen pauses a moment to cough into that hankie, before continuing. "I think this place would have to do something terrible in order to fail. Like, you'd have to fail on purpose." There's a very faint lift of Jax's eyebrows at the mention of Hercules's date having a curfew, though the expression is fleeting. His smile is warm, regardless. "D'you need a date t'have a good time? Feel hundred-percent positive a good number'a your classmates'll be around, anyway. Here, if not upstairs. Dependin' on how old --" Shrug. The mention of needing to do something terrible in order to fail just prompts an /actual/ laugh, though, a shake of his head that spills shaggy colourful hair down over his glasses. "Oh. Oh /gosh/. That's -- a real -- real idealistic, uh, way of thinkin' about the restaurant business, um." His knuckles press against his lips, not really hiding the brighter broader grin that's curved there. "I /wish/ that was true, for Shane's sake." Hercules rubs his chin, "Yeah, Tay's fifteen. So no clubbing for her, at least not after curfew." He nods to Jax. "Well, no I don't need a date to have a good time, you're right there. I just, well, I know so few people so far. I feel a bit like an outsider, still. I think I'll be feeling a bit out of place. With a date, at least I would have company in that. Dating, and uh, clubbing, both brand new things for me." The large teen shrugs and grins. "I know, it's a bit uh, rose coloured glasses, right? But in my little experience in things Shane, I think he's got the drive to make it work. Definitely the personality for it." "Fifteen," Jax echoes; his tongue pokes, out of habit, at the corner of his lip, though at the moment there's no lip ring there where normally there would be. He frowns at the unfamiliar sensation, the tip of his tongue prodding a moment before he gives up. "Ah -- yeah, I mean, no clubbing, curfew or not for. Several -- years." His hand scuffs against the back of his neck. "Kinda wish personality was all it took t'keep a business afloat. Think Shane's barely slept since this place opened an' it's still been in the red as many months as not." His smile has tipped a little crooked, now, but it returns to its previous warmth soon enough. "But he don't keep it open for money. S'been a blessin' for so many folks havin' a community spot. Drink coffee or have a space t'meet if they need." Shrug. Hercules nods and shrugs. "It's a school dance, I don't have any alterior motives, if that's what you were thinking. If I were going anywhere like a club or bar, I'd be going with someone my own age." He looks around the Cafe and then back to Jax. "The place is in the red? Like, losing money? Did you guys want some help? I mean, I can't do much during the week, but I could help out on weekends." Jax's hands both lift, palms outward towards Hercules. "Oh, gosh. T'ain't /my/ business, I couldn't possibly answer that for you. I'm fair sure," now his smile is /definitely/ crooked, "that if Shane /wanted/ help he'd say so, though." He pulls back on his jacket, now, damp and mud-caked and all. "Think I'm in fair desperate need'a food an' a nap. I should go get my lunch from Tag. I do hope y'shake that cold soon, huh?" His hand lifts to his head, a large black Stetson appearing there briefly for him to tip it to Hercules. "Y'take care, now." Hercules grins and offers Jax a wave, "Alright, enjoy your meal and your nap." He blinks at the stetson and laughs as it's tipped to him. "Man, you have to be an absolute hit at Halloween parties. See you around."