ArchivedLogs:Ironic
| Ironic | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia
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2016-07-14 "I think it's the kind of sick you get from prolonged radiation exposure." |
| Location
<NYC> {Funhaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side | |
The house might have started out looking capacious and respectable, but it has since moved through various incarnations, always colorful, but never colorful the same way for longer than a few days. There is little in the way of what most people would call furniture: a sectional couch buried in fluffy cushions, three bean bags of varying sizes, a scattering of bookshelves, what looks like a human-scale cat tree in one corner, and a low, square table surrounded by zafus. The floor plan is largely open, criss-crossed by rope bridges linking small elevated platforms to the landing of the second storey, beyond which lie the bedrooms. The kitchen is separated from the living room only by a long counter, lined with stools. Even the appliances are decked out in unexpected hues, edged with designs that change on a daily basis. A row of tins and jars runs the length of the breakfast counter, none of which match and all of which bear brightly colored text describing their contents: teas, coffees, mates, and various herbal blends. This week, Funhaus is a vibrant tropical rain forest: the walls verdant with flowering epiphytes and vines that cover the trunks of the towering trees. Upon closer examination, a startling number of animals are hidden in the tangled growth: a troop of spider monkeys high up, a tucan perched by the bookshelf, a herd of peccaries rooting through the undergrowth, a sleepy jaguar draped along the top of the cat tree, and a potoo staring down at the living room from the second story balcony. The verdant canopy painted on the ceiling gives a truly impressive and persistent illusion of depth, and the floor is a mosaic of leaf litter. The front door opens, letting in a spill of sunlight and an attending wave of hot air. Tian-shin is dressed for work, though she didn't have court today. Her pale pink blouse is light and breathable despite the conservative neckline and long sleeves, and her gray linen pencil skirt only looks a little rumpled from her outing. The coil of hair at the back of her head has begun to come unravelled, and she reaches up to let it loose even while kicking off her sensible gray shoes. She tosses her purse onto the couch before collapsing onto it herself face-first. Joshua is dressed for Definitely Done With Work -- hair still damp from a shower, he's in a sleeveless undershirt and black plaid boxers. He ambles out of the kitchen soon after Tian-shin's collapse, a bowl of cereal in one hand and a mug in the other. He sets the latter down on the floor near Tian-shin's head (it's full of iced strawberry oolong) before dropping onto a beanbag, himself. Crunching a quiet mouthful of Frosted Flakes. Tag follows his sister in and closes the door behind them. His shaggy shoulder-length hair is bright pink hair with deep purple tips that match his irises. He wears a loose-fitting t-shirt segmented into irregular geometric blocks of bright rainbow colors, like the inside of some impossibly colorful geode, and his shorts are a deep black dotted with shimmering iridescent stars. He takes off his neon pink sandals a bit more conscientiously and puts them away along with his sister's shoes. Padding into the living room, he offers Joshua a tired wave before dropping down to sit on the floor beside the couch, leaning back to use Tian-shin's shoulder for a pillow. He picks up the tea and takes a sip, then nudges his sister with it. "Well," he says at last. "That kinda sucked." Tian-shin turns her head just far enough to squint one critical eye at the cold mug. Then she leans her cheek against it with a small, relieved sigh. "/Kind/ of, yeah," she echoes noncomittally. It takes her several long moments to lever herself up onto one elbow and accept the tea from Tag. "How was your day?" to Joshua, over the rim of the mug. Joshua's one-shouldered shrug is equally noncommittal. "Got pissed on." If he is particularly bothered by this it doesn't make it through to his bland tone. He crunches another mouthful of cereal, dark eyes sweeping over his roommates and then lifting to study the leafy ceiling. "How is she?" Tag pushes a fall of pink hair away from his face (the purple on the tips begin spreading upward, blending into a rich magenta). "Cranky. Pushy. Not responding to treatment." Tian-shin's shoulders sag and she wraps both hands around the mug. "/She/ responded to the chemo. The /cancer/ just didn't seem much fazed by it." She takes a long sip. "They're going to try a different drug on the next cycle. It'll probably be worse on her WBC count than the last, but..." She never finishes the sentence save with a small shake of her head, long black hair falling down over her shoulders as it uncoils. Joshua continues munching on his cereal, quiet except for the steady crunch-crunch-crunch. He shifts in the beanbag, tucking one leg up beneath himself as he nestles back to squish out a deeper hollow for himself. "I could help." Quiet, too. As is: "... but even if I did it'd probably come back." Tag hugs his knees to his chest. "She's ironically super prejudiced against mutants, but would probably still accept your help over more chemo." He cocks his head to the side, magenta hair obscuring half his face again. "Why do you think it'll come back, though?" Tian-shin has finally levered herself up into a sitting position, if a somewhat sloppy one, legs still curled on the couch cushion. "She'd probably get over her misgivings about freaks pretty fast, but I can just imagine /Tian-yi's/ reaction." She reaches down and absently tucks Tag's hair behind his ear. "Either way, remission is always a risk, and one she's well aware of." "... ironically." Joshua echoes this word with a small furrow of brow, a small huff of breath. "Mmm." He drags his spoon through his bowl, toes scrunching in against the beanbag with a quiet rustling shift of pellets. "I think Tian-yi is making her sick." Tag's mouth twists to one side. If it's a smile, it's a profoundly unhappy one. "I mean, he's /pretty/ intolerable, but I don't think this is the kind of sick you usually get from stress." Tian-shin lowers her mug and raises her eyebrows. "You're not joking." Quiet. Concerned. Not a question. She studies Joshua closely. "Tian-yi--is /he/ a mutant, too?" "I think it's the kind of sick you get from prolonged radiation exposure," Joshua replies evenly. His gaze pulls away from the ceiling, lowering back to Tag and Tian-shin. "... which is a /sort/ of intolerable, I guess." His shrug now is -- semi -- apologetic. "I knew he was a mutant forever ago but. Figuring out what he /did/ took some --" There's a beat of hesitation, another small furrow that creases his brow and then evens out. "Time." Tag sits up straighter, his eyes wide. "{Fuck}." The expletive comes out in Mandarin, almost devoid of inflection. "Tian-yi is...what? /Radioactive?/ Why the everloving fuck would he do that to her?!" His hair is fading to stark, snowy white, starting at the roots. Tian-shin seems to take the news more in stride. She frowns and looks down into her mug, waiting for her brother to pause for breath. "Because he doesn't know what he's doing." She squeezes Tag's shoulder with one hand. "Or--well, he had /better/ not know what he's doing." Her eyes stray to Joshua. "He /doesn't/ know, does he? We have to talk to him, have to--do /something./" Joshua shakes his head, lips twisting slightly to one side as the color begins to leech out of Tag's hair. "If he knew, I'd have figured it out much sooner. I think it just -- happens. Kind of low-grade -- all the time -- uh --" He pauses again. Looks down at his bowl, back up at his roommates. "... doesn't seem likely he'll take it well, huh?" Tag leans back into Tian-shin's grip. "That's a really unfortunate power to be...you know. /Always on./" His hair has gone mostly white but for the tips, fading to a silvery lavender even now. "No, he'll fucking lose it, which is doubleplus unforunate, I mean...if he's irradiating stuff constantly when he's /not/ freaking out..." Tian-shin is chewing on her lower lip, her brows still deeply furrowed. "I don't know that he'll /lose it/, but he won't take it well. He has very complicated feelings about mutants /in general/, but finding out /he's/ responsible for mom getting sick?" She closes her eyes, shakes her head slowly. "We'd better have someone on hand who can shut him down." "I didn't experiment enough to know /exactly/ what he could be capable of but I wouldn't -- really want to /test/ it." Joshua finishes the last of his cereal, lifting the bowl to his mouth to slurp down some of the sugary milk. His brows lift slightly as he lowers the bowl again. "Yeah. 'Someone'." | |
