ArchivedLogs:All the Candy
|All the Candy|
All of it. Happens after Don't Be Sad
This apartment is cheerful, in its way -- bright and airy, its floor plan open and a plethora of windows providing it with an abundance of light. The tiny entrance hall opens into a living room, small, though its sparse furniture and lack of clutter give it a more open feel. The decor is subdued and minimalist; black and white is the dominant theme, with occasional splashes of deep crimson to offset the monochrome, though of late bright coloured sealife has made its way into being painted on the wall. The couch and armchair are upholstered in black corduroy, the low wide coffee table central is black wood and glass-topped, and a few large pillowy beanbags provide additional seating by the large windows that dominate the back wall. Towards the back, a couple of doors lead off into bedrooms and bathroom, and to the right, the kitchen's tile is separated from the living room's dark hardwood floors by black countertops. Above the bedroom to one side, there is higher space; a ladder climbs up to a lofted area looking down on the living room. Standing in front of the partition between living and cooking area is a large fish tank: one lone Betta, blood-red, swims regally among several species of black and silver fish. A hallway beyond the kitchen leads further into the apartment. Another bathroom stands just into the hall and the farthest door leads to the apartment's final bedroom, the door usually kept shut to hold in the acrid fumes of turpentine and paints from within.
Sunday morning is lazy-time, for many people. The building is quietish, its often-young inhabitants perhaps recovering from their Saturday nights. Jax's apartment is quietish, too, but far from lazy. There's food cooking on the stove, smokey tempeh and potato and kale hash, corncakes. A canvas propped on his easel is largely but not quite finished, a dark forest, its trees composed apparently of glass, some chopped down to (bleeding) stumps, some shedding strangely arm-like branches across the snowcovered (blood-spattered) ground. Jackson himself is -- /half/ still dressed for church, in grey slacks but his jacket and dress shirt removed and traded out for a black t-shirt that reads 'Let's switch gender roles!' in pink. There is a pair of jeans draped over the arm of the couch, probably destined to be traded out for the slacks but he has not gotten that far yet. He is in the process of animalfeeding, one very frisky beagle and very purry black Bengal cat both doing their best to get underfoot as he stands at the counter, filling both their bowls with equal parts kibble and wet meaty gloop. His hair is pink to match the text on his shirt, a few black streaks swiped through it, and his wrists bear thick black cuffs with heavy silver D-rings studded into them. He also has a few bruises -- but small. Dark. Splotched against his neck, adding colour to one of the few uninked spots of skin he still has.
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. Knocking is a novel idea for Peter, so of course he goes overboard with it, knuckles rapping like wild. Side-by-side with Ivan, the boy's currently clad in his red hoodie, blue jeans, goofy glasses, school-bag, 'TEACH THE CONTROVERSY' tee, and -- several trashbags quite simply /bulging/ with candy. About, uh, four, actually. Two for Ivan and two for Peter. Apparently they decided to bring Jackson /all/ the candy. Well, almost all. Peter /may/ be chewing on some gummy spiders. He might also be in the process of quickly swallowing them, as a means of hiding the evidence.
Ivan did not eat any of the candy! Okay maybe-- maybe some but Peter said it would be okay, and he felt a little guilty about it afterwards. Regardless, here he stands in his black coat, one bag dragging behind him and one tightly clamped under an arm. He does not aid in the knocking, settling for slooowly raising leaning up onto his toes as he stares blankly at the door over a pile of what appears to be gummy worms on top of one of the bags, to accompany the spiders Peter is eating.
Normally there would probably be a skittering of paws, here, as Obie charges to see WHO IS DOOR OMGOMG but right now he's /very focused/ on food, so there is only a: "One sec!" Jackson delivers the foods to each animal in turn, earning him prompt ignoring as they start attacking their meal. He slips over across the floor, skidding the last distance across the bare wood just because socks mean he /can/. Wheeeeethud, as he doesn't so much brake but crash /into/ the door. And then an unlocking, of one lock and then another and then the chain and then! Then he pulls the door open, with a quick-bright, "Hi, gu-- woooah what?" He's eying the trashbags in confusion.
Peter proceeds to swallow the last of the gummy spiders /right/ before Jackson opens the door. And then, with eyebrows /fiercely/ pressed together, he hefts his two trash bags up (giving Ivan a tiny hip-nudge to follow suit) and THRUSTS them toward Jackson, exclaiming: "JAX. We heard you got tazed. So we brought you --" Pause for air, then: "ALL the candy." SHOVE.
Ivan's own eyebrows press together for a moment, in confusion at Peter, before - about two seconds too late - his attention snaps back to Jackson and he makes a very good attempt at lifting his bags as well. Somewhat... less succesfully seeing as he has ordinary muscles and is still a little hurt, and bags full of candy are HEAVY. But he TRIES. And looks VERY SERIOUS about it.
Jackson's mouth opens, closes again, briefly goldfishy. "You -- wh -- what?" His own brows are knitting together, and he looks more than a little bemused as he steps back to let the boys in. "I, um, hi? Thanks?" He doesn't sound entirely sure What Is Going On. "Candy? For me? That's --" He /eyes/ the bags. "That's /all/ candy?"
Peter brings said candy in. Well, he does after a glance toward Ivan, followed by a tug, and -- maybe a bit of shifting that involves sliding his right garbage bag to his left hand, holding both and then reaching to take one of Ivan's own. LET ME HELP. Either way how it happens, he's soon entering the room with Ivan, garbage bags full of candy dragged in, dumping them down on the nearest surface. And indeed -- they /are/ crammed full of candy. Not /all/ of the candy, but -- a lot. And pretty much of every variety you can imagine! Peter and Ivan had no idea what Jackson liked, so Peter suggested getting, well, /everything/. Jelly beans, crawlies, worms, gobstoppers, little wrapped chocolate /mints/, turkish delights, gum-drops...
"Yeah we were gonna get you candy when we heard you got tazed but this lady we know -- Alison I think? She found out and was like 'oh here tell them my name they'll put it on my charge' and so we decided 'oh cool we'll get him /all/ the candy," Peter explains in a rush, before adding: "Actually um I hope we didn't spend /all/ her money -- we didn't spend all her money, right Ivan? I think she has a lot of money--" Peter apparently hasn't considered this possibility. Eyebrows squint together.
Ivan allows one of his bags to be taken without fuss and follows after Peter, shooting Jackson a brief but genuine smile as he passes by, before it vanishes to let him eye the rest of the apartment somewhat warily. The question of Alison's name gets an enthusiastic nod, and he carefully maneuvers the bag he has left to stand it against the nearest big solid thing that isn't a person or a pet. "I--" A look of panic spreads across his face, and he peers at Peter once more. "I hope not." Not very reassuring.
"So this is like -- literally candy from a stranger?" Jackson still seems Kind Of Bemused, trailing along with the boys to open one of the bags and peer inside. His eye widens. "-- w-woah. This is like. At least a days' worth of sugar." His mouth has curled up into a grin. Wide. Kind of crooked. "Why'd she care about me gettin' tazed? I'm doin' alright. This is sweet of you, though." Sweet. Hehe. This makes him grin a little more.
"Yes. Well, no. I mean /we/ picked it out and we aren't strangers and oh my GOD if you could eat all of this in a day that would pretty much be the most amazing thing /ever/," Peter states, and now he's already /sifting/ through one of the trashbags, the whole issue of Alison's ensuing bankruptcy apparently no longer concerning him despite Ivan's less-than-reassuring response. "And I dunno, I mean, I think -- she mentioned she's a teacher at the school? I didn't know she's a teacher at the school -- I met her once in Evolve like /way/ back, and she mentioned she was there back when Ivan danced with Rasa and oh my GOD Jax Ivan held Rasa's hand--" Oops! Something buzzes in Peter's pocket; he hops back and out of the bag he's rifling through to check his phone a moment, eyeing the text, thumbs twiddling in response. Letting IVAN take over for explaining.
(Parley --> Peter): Are you in town for the weekend? (Peter --> Parley): yes hello i am in town for the weekend (Peter --> Parley): but you know after i talked to you back on campus like (Peter --> Parley): the bald dude took me aside and told me i have to be more discrete (Peter --> Parley): wait im not being discrete right now am i (Parley --> Peter): He isn't wrong. (Peter --> Parley): oh crap i just told you (Peter --> Parley): xaviers is run by a bald dude' (Peter --> Parley): man the hell is wrong with me letting that cat out of the bag now everybodys gonna know the dudes bald anyway whats up (Parley --> Peter): I'm not a complete stranger to Xavier's. Once you know the name of the school, it isn't a /long/ assumption to figure out it is run, by some capacity, by Mr. Xavier. (Parley --> Peter): Anyway. That's beside the point. (Parley --> Peter): I should tell you something. But I'd rather it not be in texts. (Parley --> Peter): That sounds really cryptic. I only mean I'm bad at these.
Ivan's usual stare alternates between Peter and Jackson as they speak, one of his hands trailing a path up to his shoulder as he listens. The mention of Rasa seems to bring a smile back to his face- a little proud looking, even. When Peter finds himself distracted by the phone and it is suddenly his turn to talk, he says to Jackson, "People like you." This is stated very plainly. "People you like should not be tazed. It is not good."
"I basically eat sugar like a hummingbird all day," Jackson says with a quick laugh, "I could /destroy/ this much candy if I'm training." But Peter's nattering draws his brows into a deep frown. "-- There's no Alison who teaches at the school," he says, shaking his head. "-- She was at the dance?" This mollifies him, at least somewhat, although Ivan's response only gets an awkward crinkle of his nose. "She can't like me, she don't know me. Y'want some candy? Or I got cookies." His smile returns brightly for: "You an' Rasa? Really? That's --- that's awesome. Rasa's real sweet."
"Actually I don't remember if she said she taught or what, I just kind of assumed, but -- and yeah it is /so/ sweet I mean I totally thought Rasa wasn't even into dating but Ivan is Donnie /SUAVO/ or something --" Peter is half-paying attention to the convo, half-paying attention to his phone, thumbs typing away, eyebrows scrunched tightly together. "Also, I ate some of the gummy spiders," Peter confesses, "but I figured it would be fine /because/ there are so many gummy spiders." Tap-tap-tap. "...oh, oh, I -- Jax I have to /ask/ -- is it okay if I like -- I already /did/ it, I guess I should have asked first -- there was this kid I met yesterday? He was green and I told him, um, I mean I don't know if he needs it, but I mentioned there might be a school he could go to, um, I didn't tell him any thing /about/ it 'cept it's kinda like Hogwarts--"
(Peter --> Parley): yeah but i mean (Peter --> Parley): now you know hes bald thats prolly like top sekret (Peter --> Parley): who knows how much trouble ive caused by letting you in the know on that oh man (Peter --> Parley): ha ha just kidding (Peter --> Parley): everybody knows hes bald hes basically captain picard (Peter --> Parley): anyway thats cool im at jaxs right now deliverin all the candy (Parley --> Peter): ... at Jax's. As in Mr. Jackson Holland's? (Peter --> Parley): yeah we heard he got tazed so we figured candy
Ivan seems a little lost in the conversation now, stare settling on Peter for a while as he tries to figure out what on earth a Donnie Suavo is. "I don't-- know if we are-- things?" He starts somewhat awkwardly, before straightening up and quickly amending, "A /thing/. A thing. Maybe I should have asked." He doesn't seem too entirely worried! Just a mental note made. Then, to Jackson, "Can I have some water?" Not at all because he had some of the gummy spiders too and they made him thirsty, nope.
"Donnie Suavo?" Jackson also looks a little blank at this, shifting away to head to the kitchen and get a pitcher of water out of the fridge. "Don't worry about it, s'totally fine. I can't even actually --" He blushes, shaking his head as he pours a glass of water. "Y'want anything, Peter?" He turns to glance over his shoulder towards the boys. "Talkin' about it with hir is definitely the best way to go. I'd guess probably a lot of everyone's still figuring /out/ what they're into. I mean heck /I'm/ still figuring that out and I've had years more." If -- only a few years more, admittedly. "A green kid?" His brow creases slightly. "I mean, s'good to reach out to people who need us. An' if he's green that's pretty obvious that -- just important to be /careful/, yeah? But, no, yeah, it's --" He hesitates, teeth scraping against his lip. "So long as you didn't tell him no details -- do you know where he lives or nothin'? Maybe a phone number? One'a the staff could reach out to him."
"I'm fine, thanks -- no but I gave him my email -- not the /school/ email," Peter quickly adds, "and told him to throw me a line and maybe he could visit? I told him I'd have to ask a bunch of people first 'cuz I know the professor has /totally/ chewed me out for bein' more discreet I am working on that /honest/ it just seemed like he could use -- uh, friends -- he's really skittish, too," Peter adds, with just a hint of a flush, "and I kinda don't want to scare him off." Whatever has absorbed him in the phone seems to now prompt a certain action -- he thrusts his head into one of the bags, along with a hand, digging -- then his head pops out, and he texts something /more/.
(Parley --> Peter): You're in my building. (Parley --> Peter): How is he? (Don't tell him I asked.) (Peter --> Parley): oh crap man crazy plot twist (Peter --> Parley): hes fine tho i dunno he always is smiling all cheerful and stuff but seems happy (Parley --> Peter): ... (Parley --> Peter): Yes. Then I am sure he is fine. (Peter --> Parley): well i mean dudes not still gettin tazed (Peter --> Parley): that seems pretty fine i mean on the scale of 10 to getting tazed hes a 10 (Parley --> Peter): That's a very flawed scale. (Parley --> Peter): Most people are not in the process of being tased. (Peter --> Parley): back off man im a scientist (Peter --> Parley): jk what room number are you (Parley --> Peter): 603. Do you have Mounds? (Peter --> Parley): no dude are you kidding this is like (Peter --> Parley): super gourmet candy (Peter --> Parley): you gotta eat it with pinkies raised they aint got no mounds in here (Peter --> Parley): brt
"Huh. I've got to -- Ivan? I'll meet up with you either here or in the lobby, okay? I gotta talk to somebody -- really quick, I think -- I'll just be a minute?" Text text text, then Peter closes the phone.
Ivan listens to Jackson's every word, head angling slightly, but his expression leaves things to be desired in the readable-department. Not entirely unlike a puppy that's just been told to SIT, without actually knowing what this 'sit' thing entails. Being /into/ things? That sounds complicated. But-- he nods. Slowly. Before Peter catches his attention, and he takes a small step toward Peter, as though a little reluctant to be left behind. "Something bad?"
"You okay, Peter?" Jackson is looking slightly /concerned/ at Peter's texting and dashing off. "What's up?" He emerges from the kitchen with the glass of water, offering it to Ivan. "S'probably good your lookin' out for folks, so long's you're listenin' to the Professor 'bout being careful. I think most kids who're green could /probably/ do with more friends. Do y'all gotta go?" He's still eying Peter's phone. With worry.
OhGOSH what has Peter DONE? He looks a little horrified at all the worry he has suddenly produced in this room: "Oh nonono, nothing's--everything's cool!" Peter exclaims, both hands up in the air, almost /flailing/ as he attempts to deflect all the concern thrown his way. "Just -- somebody wanted to talk to me real quick? I dunno I think he wants it to be private though he didn't /say/ it had to be private but just the way it was phrased -- it's nothing /bad/ I mean -- he's right here in the apartment complex! I told him we were delivering candy and he was like 'oh-hey I'm there too' and, it'll just take a minute," Peter adds, before mentioning to Jax: "Oh, I don't think we gotta go, I mean, we're in the city for the /weekend/, I just didn't know -- if you had plans or something or --!" FLUSH.
Oh hey a drink! Ivan gladly accepts it, clinging onto the offered glass with both hands and sipping water as he /stares/ at Peter and all of the talking he is doing. In response, he offers nothing but a shrug, apparently happy just to be the quiet contrast.
"Someone in this building?" Jackson's head tilts, curiously. "What's -- who -- they okay?" He leans against the back of the couch, a little more relaxed but no less curious with this reassurance. "I got --" His nose crinkles slightly. "/Kind/ of plans but not the exciting kind, just a lot of cleaning. What're you two gonna be doing with the rest of your weekend?"
"Yeah he's okay I mean he doesn't sound hurt or nothing he just wanted to talk to me?" Peter says, and now he sounds like he's pondering this over himself, chewing over what it means. But oh, to be so easily /distractable/: "Nothing really, I mean I don't have any serious /plans/ or anything, but I thought Ivan should get out 'cuz he needs to work on not being sad, and -- oh, I wanted to find classes on EMT and emergency evac? Maybe they offer them over the weekends somewhere? And maybe," the words /FIGHT EVIL/ do not leave his lips, but come on, you know they're there.
"Maybe, uh, practice some slinging. OH. Ivan, Ivan! We should get something for Rasa!" Now, Peter is touching Ivan's shoulder (the non-shark-bit one), giving it a shake. Apparently, this is now the best idea. The fact that Peter was about to go talk to someone is all but forgotten. "Like, a 'sorry-you-got-hived' present!" Nevermind that other people got Hive'd; other people did not HOLD HANDS WITH RASA.
From the way Ivan is quiet during Peter's explanation, it's pretty obvious he has nothing planned that has not been planned for him. But then, what else is new. He sips some more water, doing a reasonable job of not being sad at the moment, and perks up when shaken. Huh what? "A gift?" He echoes, a little confused. He blinks, then smiles! "A gift. Yes." He looks ready to go get said gift /right now/, if only just for a moment. Then he just looks confused again, smile halfway gone. "I do not know what."
"I got a friend upstairs who's a paramedic, I bet he could tell you all about that if y'wanted to know. He's rad." Jackson quirks a quick smile at Ivan. "Candy," he suggests, brightly. And then to Peter: "Yeah, but who --" His brow creases, for a moment, studying Peter uncertainly. "You sure everything's aright?"
"We'll figure someth--CANDY." Peter just /repeats/ what Jackson has said, as if it were his own idea. "That is an excellent--" He looks at the four trashbags he has brought Jackson, then back to Jackson again. Clearly doing some serious mental arithmetic, here. Then: "Um... would it be... uh, okay if..." Now he's flushing /furiously/, because he is pretty sure you are not allowed to do the thing he is thinking about doing. Which involves taking /back/ some of the candy he just gave Jackson.
Also, Jackson has only prompted Peter for the name of this mysterious messenger like /three times/, now -- it's this last time that finally manages to crack his shell: "Oooh, right, sorry -- Parley," Peter says. "He says he's in -- oh a paramedic? That could -- oh yeah and I bet I could even test the stuff he teaches me out in the DANGER room oh man /heck/ yeah--"
Candy is now officially the gift to end all gifts. Ivan is quick to cut in when Peter looks to the candy they /just brought in/, brow furrowing, "/New/ candy. My own money. I have a little."
"Peter --" Jackson bites his lip at the name, something troubled crossing his expression. "If Parley wants something from you --" A hesitation, then, carefully, "Be really careful about what you say to Parley, alright? Not everyone who's a mutant -- not everyone who lives here -- people ain't always real trustworthy just cuz they seem nice, aright? -- just be careful. Remember what the Professor told you about discretion." His hands scuff through his hair, and it takes a moment before a warm smile replaces, albeit tentatively, the troubled expression. "A paramedic, yeah. Actually, he's Parley's roommate. But he /is/ trustworthy. -- he'll be a good person to talk to. And yeah," His teeth flash brighter, warmer, and he shakes his head slightly at Ivan. "You can totally take a bag for Rasa." He /might/ even look relieved at this.