Logs:Unscripted
| Unscripted | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2022-04-11 "Well...I'm pretty good at avoiding people." |
| Location
<PRV> Black House - Ridgewood | |
This stately townhouse has a cheerful yellow brick exterior, its front entrance spectacularly inaccessible but affording residents a commanding view of the quiet street below. Inside it's bright and airy and almost entirely empty of furniture. It has the pristine, sterile look that comes with professional renovation, but here and there the obvious custom touches -- whether from the previous residents or at the new owner's request -- shine through. The first floor is expansive, with a longish open floor plan that's quickly falling out of fashion. One entire wall of the living room consists of tessellated geometric mirrors, reflecting the truly massive and functional fireplace and even larger mosaic stone hearth. Beyond this the dining room and kitchen are conjoined; the space left for the as yet absent dining table looks vast and strange. A small half bath is tucked at the rear of this space, beside which the back door leads down into a small backyard with a patio sheltered by a quaint little pavilion and a strip of a garden along one side. The staircase winding through the heart of the house is lit by a generous skylight, and runs parallel the main hallway of the second floor, which joins two comfortably sized bedrooms room, with an expansive and luxurious full bath in between and not one but two hallway closets. On the top floor is a massive bedroom with as much glass as wall and its own full, if smallish, bathroom. French doors one one side of this attic room lead out onto a roof deck, whose stairs lead down into the backyard far below. The materials spread across the breakfast table will probably produce enough kalsonnes to feed Black House and the Tessiers, and then some, without even accounting for the large pot of soup simmering on the stove. Spencer is methodically folding spinach-and-cashew filling into circles of dough cut out of a rolled sheet. His most recent growth spurt has left him looking thinner than is probably entirely healthy and his limb proportions somewhat ungainly. He's wearing a blue t-shirt that reads "The Spice Must Flow" above a picture of an adorable large-eared rodent shaking an oversized jar of brownish-orange powder into a large pot of bubbling soup, gray jeans, mismatched socks, and a kippah styled after Captain America's shield. "I did not get enough miso last year, but I learned my lesson. The roast vegetables are delicious all on their own so it'll be great to have extra." He does not sound as enthusiastic about his matzah ball soup plans as his words might imply. The sleeves of Lucien's grey button-down are rolled neatly up above his elbows. He's at the sink, scrubbing clean the trays that until recently held the roast vegetables in question. "I have no doubt it will be delicious." A faint furrow creases his brows as he glances to Spencer. "With luck everyone here will even eat some. I do not mean to sound too much like your father, but you and Ryan are both wasting away here." "Oh yeah, it'll be great! I had help." Spencer drops the finished kalsonne in a bowl with the others and cuts out another disc of dough, scoops up another spoonful of filling. "I'm not wasting away, I'm just getting taller," he retorts, and when his brows furrow it's somewhat exaggerated. "Ryan is wasting away, though." "I have noticed that." Lucien sets the trays on the drying rack, flicking water sharply from his fingertips into the sink before he reaches for a towel. "You are meant to also get heavier, when that happens. Admittedly --" His lips compress, a brief tightness around his eyes. He looks down towards his hands -- which are wringing the towel a bit harder than necessary to dry them. "You are still welcome at our home, you know. Whatever transpired between you and Gae, that -- has not changed." "I'll get there." Spencer doesn't sound too concerned on that count. "Daiki was way tall and skinny when he was my age, and he turned out great! Well, he's still tall and skinny but not like a stick. I mean," he adds hastily, pausing wide-eyed mid-dumpling to glance at Lucien, "not that he would be any less great if he still looked like a stick Dai is the best I wish he..." He trails off and fixes his eyes back on his task with a will, bony shoulders curling inward. "Yeah. I just don't wanna make Gae uncomfortable, you know? It's his home, too. Maybe he wouldn't even care, but I doubt that." "'Beanpole' is certainly a look some people pull off with aplomb," Lucien concedes. He finishes drying his hands slowly, folding the towel precisely and hanging it back up. "I think Gaétan would be --" There's a brief hesitation as he moves to stir the soup. "This past few years have been so very full of disruptions. I think that the both of you could do with just a little more support in your lives." Spencer chews on his lower lip, gaze still trained on a task so familiar he could probably do it with his eyes closed. "Yeah, I mean. The last couple of years have sucked. But I got lots of support." There's something flat and heavy in this declaration that belies its aim of reassurance. "Gae...well, I don't think he wants it from me." He hunches a little tighter, presses the edges of the dough together just a little harder than necessary. "Not anymore. I can't blame him. I messed up bad." "Mmm." Lucien sets the spoon back on the spoonrest, joining Spencer at the dumplings counter. He's methodical, less deft than Spencer in his careful filling and crimping. "I feel as though half of your support needs support of their own," is a little dry, his eyes flicking up toward the ceiling. He doesn't look back to Spencer, just focusing down on the dough he is filling. "I do not think any relationship is without its mistakes. Have you tried making it up to him?" Spence shrugs tightly, his head ducking lower. "I try to be there for them, too, but I don't think I'm doing enough." He stops, fingers fluttering restlessly along the edge of the kalsonne in his hands. "I wanted to, but I was also just -- mad at him. And then there was all the Prometheus stuff and I didn't wanna just dump on him." Lucien is quiet for a moment, neatly crimping the edge of his dumpling. "Do you think it is a relationship worth salvaging?" "Yeah!" Spence's reply is immediate. Then, after a very brief consideration, "Yeah, definitely. I dunno if I have any scripts for something this serious." "Some space and then an apology is rarely a bad way to begin. You've already done the first." Lucien drops his next kalsonne carefully into the bowl. "Alternately, you could simply avoid him until you graduate, but I expect the nature of your school makes that a tad awkward." "Well...I'm pretty good at avoiding people," Spencer hedges, considering the slightly mangled dumpling in his hands. "But I don't want to. And I miss him, and everything's --" He bites down on his lower lip. Blinks hard. Sniffles. Gently pats the kalsonne back into some semblance of a proper shape and places it with the others. "I'll try." Lucien's eyes are fixed steadily on the dough. He picks up the spoon to start to fill it. Doesn't -- just gently sets the spoon back down and turns to Spencer. He folds the boy into a firm hug, fingers carefully curled in to avoid getting flour on Spencer's shirt. "I wish I could promise you things would get easier. I can only promise I will still be here, even when they are not." | |
