ArchivedLogs:In the Loop

In the Loop
Dramatis Personae Hanna, Hive, Jayna
In Absentia	2013-08-07 After Tag delivery, before fear.
Location <NYC> 715 {Hanna} - Village Lofts - East Village
A modestly sized two bedroom appartment, well furnished in a decidedly ecclectic style, as though a gret deal of time had been taken to pick just the right pieces from thrift and antique shops. The room is neat, without too much clutter, aside from the occasional photo or unusual lamp, but it feels warm and lived in - the entire place seems to have an aura of relaxation and general good cheer, almost tangibley so. The colors of the furnishings don't match, per se, but the mix of rich jewel tones, wood, leather, and pops of brilliant day-glo colors seem to compliment each other well enough. On the far side of the room, a curtainless window looks out on the city below, although the massive collection of plants lining the sill and hanging from the curtain rod obscure the view slightly, though still allowing ample amounts of natural light to fill the room. The open kitchenette is quite modern, with gleaming chrome appliances and a dyed butcherblock counter top in muted rainbow shades. Rippling blue glass panels front the cabinets, giving a slightly distorted view of the contents within, and adding to the odd charm of the room. Knock! Knockknockknock! There is a rather firm knocking coming on Hanna's door. Rapraprap! Outside, there is one TELEPATH, kind of surly-looking in his general Oscar the Grouch fashion. Slouched shoulders, eyes narrowed either in irritation or just in a perpetual /half-asleep/ squint, his non-knocking hand shoved into the pocket of his heavy jeans. In work-clothes, still; dusty jeans, dusty construction-heavy boots, a black t-shirt reading 'resistance is futile (if <1 ohm)'. There's a faint /glassiness/ to Hive's eyes, an odd vacant distance that is belied by the sharp-keen awareness of his mind. "Just a minute!" comes the response from within the apartment, accompanied by the sounds of a chair scooting away from the table and heavy footsteps making their way towards the door. A series of lock clicks and chain slides later, along with a touch of mental confusion after looking through the peephole, and Hanna swings the door open partially, leaning herself against the door frame. She's dressed in casual loungewear, a pair of loose black yoga pants, striped up the sides with neon pink, and matched with a bright blue short sleeved tunic top, fluffy yellow bunny slippers on her feet. As the door opens, there's a sense of comforting warm happiness and homeyness, not necessarily coming from Hanna, but from the apartment beyond, as though it would not be out of the question that there were a batch of cookies fresh from the oven waiting for those visiting. "Hello, uh," Hanna starts, a wash of confusion clouding her mind for a moment before being pushed below the not-so placid blanket of calm she seems to be shaking back into place as she greets, "I'm afraid I didn't catch your name the last time. Everything ok?" There's a tinge of concern to her voice and her thoughts, tugging at the edges of the calm, flashes of recent conversations and news stories peeking through the haze as she looks past Hive into the hallway. "Did you want to come in? We've got dinner on the table if you're hungry. Or desserts if you already ate," Hanna offers, looking over Hive curiously, before stepping back slightly to let him into the apartment if he so wishes. "Jegus Christ," is Hive's initial answer to this, though it comes with a small twitch of smile curling up the corners of his mouth, "between you and Jax it's a wonder anyone else in this building ever has to cook. -- I've had your desserts. I'd be dumb to say no." Even with this, it takes a moment of delay before he actually /enters/, a little bit oddly mechanical in his motions. He stops just inside the door, eyes slowly managing a bit more focus as they drift over the apartment. "-- Maaan, you guys fixed this place up nice. You should see our shithole downstairs. Same basic layout minus all the --" His fingers flick towards the furniture. "Pretty. -- It's Hive, by the way." After a beat he tacks on, "-- My name is. Hive," with a reflexive sort of habit that suggests he gets /questioned/ on this nonstandard moniker not infrequently. Chuckling at the response to the apartment, Hanna lets Hive the rest of the way through, before shutting and locking the door - only engaging one of the locks, instead of the whole host that is typically used to secure the entry way. "I brought a lot of stuff with me from Hawaii, so I can't take all the credit - I have my mother's taste in decor, and Jayna is kind enough to tolerate it," she explains with a gesture towards one of the seats at the counter, an invitation to sit. She heads into the kitchenette, bustling about like a perfectly cheery host - mentally humming 'Be Our Guest' to herself. Jayna, also dressed down in a pair of lime green exercise shorts and a tank top, is currently boxing up dinner at the small table off the kitchen, putting away the leftovers and humming quietly to herself. The leafy haired woman offers a gentle smile and a wave to Hive, before continuing in her work with the leftovers and clean up, staying mostly out of the way, although her mind is a series of flashes of confusion, curiosity, and questioning why Hive had stopped by tonight so randomly. The concerns are not, however, voiced aloud, simply expressed to Hanna with a confused look and a shrug. "Do you have any dietary restrictions or preferences? I've got pretty much one of everything from the bakery today," Hanna offers, producing a pristine white box with the Happy Cakes logo on it, filled with cupcakes and a few cookies, and setting it on the counter. "Would you like something to drink, too?" she asks with a smile, genuinely trying to be helpful, her eyes having taken on a warm golden tinged brown color, "And I enjoy sharing food. It's what I've known to do since I was just a little thing. Apologies if I'm a bit overboard at times." "Nah, I eat pretty much anything. I tend to /buy/ the vegan stuff just 'cuz we usually share it with Jax and Dusk is wicked allergic to dairy anyway but. /I'm/ pretty much just the house garbage disposal." For a moment as Hive looks at the box his eyes unfocus again, a faint brief tension cording up the lean muscles in his arms. It relaxes as he reaches to open it, peeking inside. "S'cool, /I'm/ certainly not going to complain about being flooded with delicious food. -- no drink, though, that's alright. How've things been at the bakery, anyway?" He glances up towards Jayna, offering her a jerky upward lift of his head. "Hey, Jayna." Rather than sit, he leans his arms against the back of the offered seat, his lips quirking faintly at Jayna's confusion. "Sorry," he apologizes to unvoiced questioning rather than anything said, "I would've texted or something but I don't know your numbers. Uh -- Jax mentioned running into you and you'd been worried about Tag. I just dropped him off down at Jax's place. We figured you'd probably want to know." "The bakery is doing well enough - the occasional scuffle or disgruntled customer - thankfully nothing worse than a broken dish or two of late," she smiles and nods with a shrug. "There's a triple chocolate one that did very well today, as well as a raspberry amaretto in there too. Have your pick of the lot - there's almost always a surplus of sugary sweets in this place," Hanna explains, gesturing at the box and its contents - a look of slight guilt flashes over her face and mind at the tension at the sight of the box. The mental image of the abandoned box by the brick wall flashes for just a brief moment, and she grimaces visibly, eyes dipping to a pale blue-green color for a second. Immediately hiding the mental image and chastising herself in what must apparently be Hawaiian, before all of it vanishes once again below the blanket of calm, her eyes returning to their golden brown color. When Tag is mentioned however, Hanna looks up from what she was doing, and she blinks repeatedly, "Oh! Thank heavens, he's safe? Do you need anything? Does he need anything? Thank you for letting me know. I really do appreciate it." The wave of relief that washes off of Hanna at the news is almost tangible in the immediate area, albeit very, very brief as she smothers everything in the calming mental image again. She takes a deep breath, "He had started to do freelance designs for me on occasion. He... stopped answering his phone, or texts, and I hadn't even seen any changes on the mural. I was worried something had happened, after the last time I saw him. I'm so glad he's safe." At this point, Hanna settles herself against a corner of the countertop, "Let me know if y'all need anything to help out with him. Is he ok? Did he say what happened?" Hive's breath catches, at that quick mental image, just a tiny indrawn gasp. For a second his hand hesitates en route to the box, but then he picks out one of the extra-chocolatey treats to take a quick bite. "-- Not your fault," he says, after he swallows, his eyes fixed somewhere down on a blank stretch of counter. "Sorry. I can hear --" One hand lifts, a finger tapping at his temple. "What you're thinking." He follows this statement with another slower bite, closing his eyes and just savoring the chocolate. "Safe -- ngh. I don't know. He's here, now. Wasn't safe before. Safer, I guess. I'm fine. Jax and Micah might -- I don't know. They've already got three fucking kids to look after, Jax is /pretty much/ the shittiest at asking for help but I can't imagine three kids and three /jobs/ makes looking after an extra person all that /easy/. Could probably check in down there. /Sneak/ some food in. Kidnap Tag to your --" He glances around the apartment with a slight furrow of brow. "Couch. He --" Hive hesitates, then shrugs. "Sorry. I know what happened, but it's probably up to him to tell." "Oh," Hanna responds, to the explanation, nodding her head slightly, "Oh. I am so, so sorry." She doesn't explain if that is for the mental images she occasionally pops up with, or the other potential infractions, or for the loss of his friend - quite possibly all of the above. Unconsciously, she smoothes a stray hair back behind her ear, falling quiet for a moment as she seems to rearrange her thoughts, smoothing out the placid fog that fills most of her mind, although it does actually lighten ever so slightly, rather than clamp down further. "I'll check in with Jax and Micah about what I can do to help. And, wow. That sounds like a rather crowded apartment, actually," she says, glancing around her own living space as Hive does, "And we have a spare bedroom. It, um, was mine, but," there's a slight cough, "Yeah. If Tag needs a place to sleep, or hide, or recover, or anything, the door is open, so to speak. Well, usually locked pretty heavily, but, right." There's a curt nod, and Hanna glances around, as though trying to figure out what variety of casserole like dish she could throw together to sneakily send to the neighbors downstairs. "Thank you, again, for letting me know. I can write down my number for you, if you wanted to pass it along, in case you need to reach me? Granted, phone calls typically don't come with cupcakes, but, it is faster usually." "S'ok. I mean I don't want you to feel bad or anything it's just." Hive shrugs a shoulder, studying his cupcake intently. "I just like to let people know. I feel like a fucking voyeur if I'm just listening /silently/." He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his cellphone and swiping it unlocked. "Apartment's not so bad, the twins moved into a place right next door? But I think that might only be for the summer. Not sure. Still a lot of /work/. Here." He offers the phone out to Hanna to let her enter her own number in, screen opened to a new entry in progress in his address book already. "Though I'll probably just end up coming by anyway. Cuz -- cupcakes. Might steal one for my roommate. Two, if there's any non-dairy." "I only get the vaguest general emotions, anymore, if I'm not in physical contact," Hanna explains with a vague gesture at the air, "But I get the idea. It always feels like an you're intruding, even if you don't mean to do it, or can't help it." She sighs and shakes her head, flashes of remembered emotions surfacing in the fog; they are muted, cataloged, and controlled, but still there beneath the surface. She accepts the phone, and quickly types out two numbers - the first one being hers, the second being the direct line to the bakery, in the 'work' field. "I can give you Jayna's too, in case you can't reach me. Or just try the bakery - usually one of us will answer from there," Hanna says with a smile, handing the phone back to Hive. "And you are welcome to stop by anytime you feel like cupcakes. I've usually got a batch of them here in the evenings, once we get home from work. Let me get a container - the vegan ones are separated off to the side to keep the icings from mingling. Chocolate, strawberry-lemon, and a spiced vanilla-orange, along the side there," she says over her shoulder, opening a cabinet and pulling out a pair of cupcake shaped containers, specifically made for holding cupcakes - one with a bright pink lid, the other with a pale blue lid. "Here you go. Just bring the containers back eventually, and we're good." "Yeah. For a while I just told people pretty much up front. With how fucking messed up the city is lately though that's -- probably just a quick ticket to getting /shot/. Even other /mutants/ hate psionics." Hive's smile is thin, cutting across his face quickly and then vanishing back into a general morass of /tired/ that is, currently, the predominant thing he is feeling -- though from him emotions seem oddly /mingled/, a lot of dissonant feelings muted beneath the fatigue in a blend that does not seem so much like /his/ jumbled emotions as a lot of disparate people's mixed together. He takes the phone, slipping it back into his pocket and then snorting. "Holy shit. You have containers. Just for cupcakes." For a moment he just /eyes/ them. "Jax has like a -- carrier. For two dozen at a time but this wins on the --" He winces, then, like perhaps the cuteness is /burning/ him. "-- I don't even know what scale this wins on." He takes the containers, tucking a raspberry amaretto into one and then eying the vegan ones. "Strawberry lemon and vanilla orange both sound like the Most Delicious Thing. Shit. Now I have to make decisions. I ran out of decision-making already, it's been a longass day." Hanna snorts, "Same. Although, I almost never tell people. Unless I touch them, which I try not to do. Hell, half the time at the bakery I've got contacts in so my eyes don't betray the shit out of me. Again." She shakes her head, looking at Hive with concern telegraphed on her features, but not voicing the concern at how tired and out of it he seems - generally seems impolite, and she tucks those thoughts neatly beneath the placid blanket of fog, too. "I have a carrier - shaped like a giant pink cupcake. And if you can't decide, I have a whole rainbow of those little containers - I can send more of them home with you. Decisions are hard, and it's been a long day," she says, reaching up to pull a purple container out of the same cabinet, setting it on the counter. "Restaurant supply store, if you're wondering. Cheap, reusable, and always a good thing to have around when you bake cupcakes as much as I do. Makes them far less squished when sent along in lunches." "Can you control it? If you touch people? That's gotta be -- tiring," Hive says, wryly. "Kinda makes me wonder what sort of giant fucking headache it'd be touching me." He snorts again at the new purple container, but reaches to place one of the vanilla-orange in it, tucking a strawberry-lemon cupcake into the last. "Restaurant supply. Huh. /Well/. Now I know what I'm getting Jax for Christmas." He lines the three containers up neatly, closing the box of sweets. "Thanks. For this. They're 303, by the way. Jax and Micah both have weirdass fucking schedules but I guess Tag might be around plenty." He scoops all three cupcake containers up, holding them against his chest in the crook of one arm. "-- We're 403. I don't usually have food to offer. Just a lot of booze and, uh, video games." "Yes and no," Hanna responds about the touching question, "No, in that I will always get at least something more detailed, unless they are spectacularly good at controlling it. Yes in that I don't always have to dump my emotions in return. Thankfully. Pretty sure I'd be rather despised if I did that." She looks idly at her hands, smirking slightly at a memory of a break up and the resulting overly emotional fallout, "This made dating awkward as hell in high school. And most of college." A slight sigh and a shake of her head, "Thank you again for letting me know Tag is at least safer. I'll stop by with food and supplies later - seems like it has been a bit of a hectic time, and I'll let everyone have some space for now. Hope your roomies enjoy the cupcakes - and I'll grab a card for the kitchen shop next time I'm over there, and pass it along." Standing from her spot in the kitchen, she moves to let Hive out of the apartment, her mind once more back to a pleasantly cheerful, if slightly less foggy, expanse. "Oh, Jegus, dating. I think I /still/ haven't quite worked that one out," Hive answers wryly. "-- Cool. I think they'll appreciate it. And Dusk and Flicker are /definitely/ going to enjoy the cupcakes." His free hand returns to his pocket, posture settling down into habitual slouch as he trudges back out. "-- Later," is just a little bit louder to project to Jayna as well, and then he is heading towards the stairs to make his way home.