ArchivedLogs:Aiding And Abetting

From X-Men: rEvolution
Aiding And Abetting
Dramatis Personae

Micah, Jax, Dusk

10 September 2014


The hits just keep on coming.

Location

<NYC> {Lighthaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side


Bright and sunny-light, this house lives up to its name. With a plethora of enormous windows flooding the place with light and an open layout, the ground floor feels more spacious than it is.

The small entryway has a closet space for shoes and coats, and doors at either side leading to the neighboring apartments. Past this it opens straight into the living room, a wide expanse of space bordered on one side by a curved set of stairs leading up (with colourful glass tiling on the risers between each stair) and next to these, the half-wall into the kitchen. Cool pale tile underfoot and many dark cabinets with a small walk-in pantry, plentiful custom granite countertops, black and speckled faintly with rainbowy flecks, lots of hanging space overhead for cookware, a large double-oven. There's a strip of rather detailed mosaic-work in the kitchen backsplash, colourful glass tiling depicting strange fantastical herbs and small faeries and firelizards darting among them. In back of the kitchen, a door opens up to a small sunroom, wide and two-stories high with a balcony overlook from the second floor; two of the windows here have cushioned windowseats, and there's a wealth of herbs growing in hanging pots and small window-boxes.

The back wall of the living room is nearly entirely dominated by windows, huge and allowing a view of the river beyond with bench windowseats lining the sills. There are plentiful paintings on the wall, surreal and fantasy-inspired, mostly in shades of blacks greys with bright bursts of colour that are mirrored in the decor -- monochrome upholstery on the couch and armchair but colourful throw-pillows, black and white huge corduroy beanbags (and one large red doggie-bed,) soft throw rugs also in mostly black and white with splashes of rainbow woven in. The hand-built furniture -- tall chairs by the kitchen/living room counter, dining table and chairs in the kitchen, low coffeetable in the living room -- has been hand-painted as well, black with bursts of colourful abstract designs.

Along the living room's other wall, doors branch off to a full bathroom -- in white and deep blue with one wall of the shower done in colourful intricate mosaic too, an underwater scene full of strange mythical water-creatures; tiny water-sprites have been interspersed at random points in the rest of the wall tiles, as well. There's a small studio space beside the bathroom, large windows as well and a gratuitous amount of shelving and cabinets along the walls; this room has very /little/ colour in it, just white walls and black furnishing.

It is a lovely late-summer afternoon, if a shade on the humid side, sunny and clear with a gentle breeze tickling at through the leaves in the Commons' gardens. Micah slides in through the front door, depositing his shoes in their space near the entryway. Though he has been rather /busy/ at work all morning, he is dressed simply in cartoon frog socks, jeans, and his Reading Rainbow-dash T-shirt. There are some perks to a stay-home workday, at least. Since his van repairs were completed, he has spent most of his time /in/ the van remaking and repairing items that were damaged in the police search. His tousled hair and clothes still have the strong scent of heated thermoplastics and adhesives clinging to them to tell the tale. Micah's first stop is to the refrigerator, from which he fetches a large glass of lemonade.

Jax hasn't been home all that long, only recently in from teaching; it's been long enough, though, to start in on lunch-prep, black bean and corn and sweet potato quesadillas toasting on the stove. There's music playing from his laptop, Kacey Musgraves's "Follow Your Arrow"; tiny brightly-coloured hummingbirds flit around near the ceiling in time with his humming along to the music. He is brightly dressed, lime-green capris, a purple cap-sleeved fishnet shirt over a silver tank, mismatched My Little Pony socks (one has Pinkie Pie, the other DJ Pon-3.) He's started growing his hair back out, a short scruff of fuzz that matches the short scruff of fuzzy beard he has been (maybe ill-advisedly) slowly also growing.

At the moment he is cutting open an avocado to drop it into a bowl for guacamole, though he looks up from this when Micah enters, beckoning with one slightly squishy-green finger towards his husband. Not for a /kiss/, no, he has priorities, like Micah's glass of lemonade.

Jax's beckoning catches Micah mid-drink of his lemonade. He pulls the glass away to offer a smile, moving close and...holding the glass even further away from Jax. Kisses /first/. Priorities, after all. "Lemonade delivery fee," he informs playfully, other hand moving to pet over Jax's scruffy scalp. "Smells amazin' in here."

Jax's nose wrinkles up in feigned disappointment, but there is definitely only warm affection in the soft kiss he offers his husband, nuzzling up afterwards into the petting. "Be done in a few. You want to grab some plates? I got time 'fore my first appointment maybe I'll actually sit /down/ an' eat like a /real/ boy. -- I'm so not used t'havin' free time during the school year I don't think this being-graduated thing is gonna get old no time soon."

In contrast to playful-affection, when Dusk emerges from the doorway into Geekhaus he brings with him only a dark glower, wings wrapped tight against his hunched shoulders. Barefoot, shirtless, in shorts as usual, he climbs up to kneel on a tall seat at the counter, reaching over to the stove to /pluck/ a toasty-hot sweet potato right out from inside its quesadilla. He blows on it to cool his kind of burning fingers, propping elbows on the counter as he finally takes a bite. "What do you think are the chances," he wonders, "that all those pigs left bugs around here?"

Kisses appropriately received, Micah pulls away to hold the lemonade glass up to Jax's lips for him, since his hands are all avocado-y. “I'll get the table all set. Not gonna complain 'bout havin' y'home more, certainly.” The lemonade glass comes with him to the table along with plates (there's a third one added to the top after the door opens, even before Dusk makes it over) and cloth napkins. He returns to the kitchen to pour a second glass of lemonade, raising an eyebrow at Dusk. “Y'wanna glass?” The question sets his hazel eyes to roaming the room, as if the listening devices could be detected with a simple once-over. “Seems like they might've. Y'can sweep for those or somethin' with the right equipment...”

"Mmm." Maybe for the kiss or maybe for the lemonade; either way Jax has a pleased hum by the time Micah moves away. His brows lift at Dusk's question, lips pursing. He is quiet at first, flipping the quesadillas to their other sides and returning to his avocado-mashing, all the guacamole add-ins already chopped and easily mixed in. "I don't know, 'spose they could've but it woulda required a whole different permission than jus' a arrest warrant."

"They came back this morning with a search warrant." There's an irritable grumble in Dusk's tone that is very faintly mollified by the offer of lemonade; he tips his head in acceptance of this. "Took /all/ my fucking computers." He may have an excessive number of them. "They even took my goddamn /phone/, I don't know when I'm getting any of this shit back. But if they're allowed to just come in and take whatever-the-hell they want I -- don't know what else they might've been allowed."

“Sure they wouldn't've been required to /tell/ us if they had permission t'plant listenin' devices or whatever.” Micah frowns at Dusk's story. “Was it just 'cause you're runnin' security, or are they takin' all computin' devices? I wouldn't know why they'd need your phone specific.” Lemonade is tipped into a third glass, this delivered to Dusk's hand followed by a hug. “Y'need help gettin' a new phone, at least? I know it's hard t'get by without one anymore.”

Jax frowns, moving to put the guacamole on the table before sliding the quesadillas off onto a plate to cut into wedges. He moves these to the table, too, biting down on his lip. "But you need those to work," he protests, as though perhaps the cops should have been /considerate/ of this fact. His cheeks puff out, breath exhaled in a sharp puff. "Neve ain't even poked her head up since all that," he adds, a little more glumly, "we can't even talk with her 'bout options for -- stoppin' all this harassment."

Dusk leans into Micah's hug, one wing shifting out to wrap around the other man in return. He takes a sip of the lemonade, closing his eyes as his wing rubs at Micah's back. "I can get a new phone, but I'm kind of fucked on a lot of my work right now." He winces at Jax's mention of Neve, sliding down off the chair and heading over to set his glass on the table. "Yeah, uh, about her. There's probably something you guys should see. May I?" He gestures to Jax's laptop in indication.

"Mmn. Yeah, they sure seemed t'care that you need your art supplies t'work or Flicker needs his laptop for school or I need...anythin' in my van." As if they had any to spare, the cops have /not/ been earning themselves any points in Micah's book lately. "Has she even /been/ here? Didn't answer her door for me /once/ since Luci started workin' on her head..." Dusk's question gets /both/ eyebrows up this time. "Please." He gestures to Jax's laptop so very generously.

"Pfft we was /aidin' an' abettin'/ a criminal we don't got no /rights/." Jax heads back to the sink to wash his hands off, glancing over towards his computer. "Oh, sure. Be nice to -- I don't know. Know /somethin'/ she has kinda been scarce."

Dusk leans in against the counter, grimacing in mild annoyance as he swipes (a little gingerly) at Jax's mousepad. "Fucking Macs," he grumbles, quietly to himself as he adjusts to the unfamiliar interface. It takes him a little longer than it might otherwise have to get logged in to the Commons security system and find the right point in the right feed. He takes the laptop to the table afterwards, gesturing the others to look. "OK, so this was Friday, and here's Lucien leaving, I think after going to her place. S'like --" He glances at the timestamp, "early evening. And then we've got ass o'clock Saturday morning," he shifts to a different view to start playing, footage of Neve -- bags packed and in hand -- creeping out of the Commons' gate and disappearing from view.

Micah curls an arm around Dusk's low back, an excuse to move in close and look over his shoulder at the computer (or the other way around, who's to say?). "So. That. Looks like she took off with a plan to at least be gone a long time." He sounds rather less than pleased with this. "So much for that whole...'willin' to accept consequences' thing. Guessin' by the amount of attention that we got from the cops she weren't just on her way t'turn herself in." His forehead falls forward against Dusk's shoulder for a few beats before he looks back up again. "Also guessin' this means we're not likely t'get left alone any time soon. An'...ohgosh. I been needin' t'talk t'Luci anyhow, but. If they're lookin' at this? He might've been the last person t'see her. /He/ could use a warnin', at least."

Jax slides into a seat at the table, sipping at his lemonade as he watches the screen. His eye opens wider at the footage, lemonade lowering to the table with a thump. "She --" His mouth closes sharply, eye closing as well. "Well. That's." His head just shakes rather than finish this, hand lifting to scrub his palm against his eye. "This is gonna be a headache. Luci might could use a warnin', yeah." His brows wrinkle inward. "For more'n jus' the cops' -- maybe-hasslin' him, I think he still -- this is probably gonna be a blow."

"Predictable?" Dusk finishes Jax's unfinished sentiment, not really bothering to cloak the disgust in his tone. "I mean, she was okay with /torture/ if it meant saving her own ass, I don't really find it surprising she's also okay with using us and then fucking us over." He closes the video, wing curling back around Micah as his head turns to press a kiss to the top of the other man's head. One hand lifts to circle a fist against his heart. "I know you -- were hoping she was different."

Micah nods slowly at Jax. "I'll head over there after lunch, if he's free. Might be the kinda thing he should hear /not/ over the phone." His jaw tenses as the other two continue to talk amongst themselves, eyes pressing closed tight at the kiss. "I was hopin' we just needed /her/ back. She used t'be so... Not. This." It takes some time for him to open his eyes again, teeth digging into his lip instead. "An' maybe she told Luci somethin', too. S'far as I know he was the only one she talked to in...a good while."

"I don't know as anyone comes outta those labs with /them/ fully intact, still," Jax says, very softly. His fingers have curled loosely inward, thumb rubbing slowly against the stump of his missing pinkie. He reaches up when he opens his eye again, squeezing gently at Micah's hand. "C'mon. Let's eat."