ArchivedLogs:Bananas Are Good
|Bananas Are Good|
4 April 2014
Funding Horus's new tablet. BANANA!
From indoor gardens to outdoor, though without the protective greenhouse glass the back gardens do not last all year round. Still, the gardens out here are well-tended and well-worth spending time in, as well. The paths wending through the beds of flowers and herbs and vegetables spread out through the school's back grounds, tended by students as a credit class. Benches offer seating and a small pond is home to koi and turtles, as well as a few frogs. At the far back edges of the garden, a droning buzzing marks a few stacked white boxes as beehives.
Somewhere inside the Great Hall there are hordes of teenagers, a sprinkling of adults mingled in among them, the smells and sounds of many people at breakfast. Out here it's calmer, quieter. Far more sedate. It might be the sunlight that's drawn Jackson out of doors or it /might/ just be respite from the /noise/. At the moment he's got breakfast -- ish, in that he's gotten himself a banana and a huge glass of orange juice. And with these things he is draped along a bench in the gardens, banana on his chest, orange juice in hand, his other arm draped over his eyes. There's a glow around him, a pale greenish-grey colour that shivers and twitches unsteadily. One of his legs is stretched out along the bench, the other draped down towards the ground. Save for the light around him he's very un-colourful. Jeans, hiking boots, a sweatshirt once black but long since faded to grey.
Micah is also escaping the dining hall for breakfast, settled at the other end of the bench from Jax with a blueberry muffin, a banana (apparently the fruit of choice this morning), and a Thermos of coffee. He is already dressed for work: auburn hair combed into a semblance of neatness, TARDIS-blue polo shirt and khakis worn under an army green canvas jacket added for warmth. His messenger bag sits at his feet, betraying that he's likely to head straight to his van from here to his first morning appointment. He sleepily picks large chunks out of the muffin to munch on between sips of coffee.
Outside may be a respite from the myriad of teenage voices inside, but early spring has brought along a chorus of birdsong to fill the morning air. As Ducky enters the garden, the melodic twittering of the brids seems to swell and grow in a cheery, organic tune. She wears her normal school clothes, a pair of worn black cargo pants, a long sleeve t-shirt in a bright blue color, and a hooded fleece vest in vibrant yellow and green; her companion pigeon is nestled quietly into the hood, looking around at the growing crowd of birds that begins to form. Humming happily to no tune in particular, Ducky heads towards Jax, once she recognizes the source of the pale-green light - the murmuration of random birds that flutter about overhead follow her.
"Um, Mister Jax?" she asks quietly once she comes to a stop near the two men, her hands tucked into her pockets, "Don't want to bother you so early in the morning, but I kinda had a question, and well, I know you've been really busy and stuff lately, so I didn't want to be a pest when stuff was kinda crazy." The be-pigeoned girl offers a polite wave to Micah, smiling cheerily.
"How are you awake," Jax grumbles to Micah, shifting slightly to rest his head up against Micah's thigh like a pillow. "How are you /alive/ oh my gosh someone is /sledgehammerin'/ in my /skull/." He shifts his arm so that he can pick up his banana, but then just thuds it back down against his chest, unpeeled. "I tell you, if I /had/ two grand to spare this mornin' Lucien'd be --" He trails off at the sound of swelling birdsong, the humming, turning his head to crack an eye open.
A smile flits across his face, warm and bright. "Ducky!" His tone now is cheerful in contrast to his previous grumbling. He doesn't yet attempt sitting up, though he does wave his -- banana. Towards her. Like a hello. "You ain't no bother, honey-honey, what's on your mind?"
"I'm not awake. This is a clever facsimile of wakefulness fueled by caffeine," Micah replies after another long swig of coffee. "Also, my head wasn't tied up in the hivemind near as long as yours was. I only cancelled m'earliest appointments t'day, so I gotta /brain/ soon an' drive even sooner." His wince doesn't seem particularly pleased with the prospect. He waves at Ducky...with his muffin, as both hands are already full.
Ducky bounces on the balls of her feet, apparently considerably more awake than either of the adults. "I can't really sleep in the mornings in the spring, so I've kind of been up for a while, because the birds are really really chirpy in the morning," she explains, gesturing at the birds overhead, slowly settling down into the bushes and plants around them the longer she stays put, "And I can't really tune them out very well, since they're kinda in my head too, so yeah. I'm awake. And had a question." The wave from Micah and his muffin gets the attention of a handful of the birds - including a small starling that has taken up residence in Ducky's rather rumpled hair - and Ducky shakes her head, addressing the birds, hopefully, anyway, with a stern tone, "No. Not your muffin." She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her vest, scuffing her foot against the pathway, "Well, I had kinda been talking about maybe being able to help get Horus another tablet? I... I have the money now. S'not just a sponge now." Ducky nods and grins a little bit, the birds around her chirruping happily, and ruffling, "I just, well, things kinda got kinda crazy, and I wasn't sure how to, y'know, start."
"Oh, gosh, yeah, that'd -- get /wicked/ loud wouldn't it?" Jackson slowly struggles upright, wincing at the motion; the green glow around him shivers again as he rights himself. He settles in at Micah's side, leaning in to take a long hungry /inhale/ of coffee but then just sipping his orange juice. "You are doin' a /good/ impression'a awake then it's better than I am." The end of this statement trails off into a yawn; he offers Ducky a little bit of a /sheepish/ grin afterwards, rubbing his knuckles against his eye. "Oh. Oh /gosh/ Horus'd be /so/ elated, honey-honey, he's. We've made accommodations s'best we can but I think class is still a bit of a /struggle/ for him -- anyway he'd be /so/ relieved. Um -- though," now he's ducking his head sheepishly again and waving his banana at Micah, "s'my /husband/ who'd have the best information for you on -- where t'begin. -- Y'got enough brain for talkin' work, sweetie?"
"M'usually up early, but...still coffeein' an' had a run-in with some psychic scramblin' last night so'm a touch on the blechy side. Apologies, sugar." Micah lofts his thermos in time with the mention of coffee. He chuckles at the birds looking to steal his muffin, holding this a little closer to himself and /wincing/ at the aching response in his head to his own laughter. "Ohgosh, if folks wanted t'take up a collection for Horus's tablet, that would get it for 'im quicker. I've got everythin' set up an' the invoice in to the Clinic for their equipment fund t'cover it. But there's a /wait/ on account of so many of the patients there ain't got money or insurance. Could even give a bit of a discount for the out-of-pocket payment, do /my/ part of it at materials cost. The most of the priciness is the tablet an' software, though." He looks a little confused, brain still sluggish after the de-hiving. "What's this 'bout a sponge?"
"I'm not supposed to have coffee," Ducky crinkles her nose a bit, and nods, "It's gotten worse lately. Like they're flocking to me even more now, s'happning when I'm inside, too." She nods emphatically, grinning, "I know it would be super helpful, and since the old tablet got all busted up and stuff. And and I know he was kinda nervous about coming here, so I kinda wanted to help him be more comfortable being here, and being able to talk to people. So, um." Her attention - and thus the attention of the birds in her immediate area - turn to Micah, and she bounces on her toes again, "Um. The... the sponge. Well. Someone gave it to me before I came here, and I thought it was just pretty, and didn't believe her when she said it was gold. But then I figured I should check, because I had something I wanted to do, so I checked." She reaches into her pocket, pulling out one single shining gold coin blank, a little smaller than a quarter. "So Dr. Winthrop melted it down for me, and we were able to find out that, um, it was kinda worth a lot." She blushes turning the shining coin over in her fingers, "Like a lot a lot. Um. Sorry, I kinda chatter. A lot." She ruffles her hair, the little starling jumping over her hand to settle back in, "As long as it's less than ten-thousand I should be able to help. S'kinda most of the money is in a trust for me so I can go to college eventually. But, but I have some set aside that I can use to help Horus?"
Jackson's head turns aside, his eyes following the birds around them as their attention shifts with her. His lips purse in brief thoughtfulness. "I can set up some time for you t'work one-on-one with Professor X," he offers, slow and pensive, "he can probably help better'n I can with workin' on how to shield out some'a the noise. An' -- they ain't always done that, have they?" This time his banana gestures towards the birds. His teeth scrape against his lip, still trying to wiggle at a nonexistent lip ring. It takes a moment before he reorients, slooowly, to the actual conversation a hand. He squeezes his eye shut tight and then open again, sipping once more at his orange juice. "College is good. But with proper investments /that/ money can grow a little, too. An' then still have plenty over for helpin' Horus out."
"Oh, no coffee is /sad/," Micah replies with a voice perhaps excessively tragedy-heavy. The thought of no coffee right now is, perhaps, worse than it would usually be. He looks a little perplexed at the explanation. "A...gold sponge? Made into money. Ten thousand dollars worth of money? That's...unusual. Um. I ain't got the invoice /on hand/ presently, but if I cut out the manufacturin' costs, thing comes in roundabout a thousand. S'just buyin' the tablet online then downloadin' the software. I can get the harness re-built 'bout as fast as they'll deliver the computin' part. Could have this thing by next week if there's actual /funds/."
"No. Is kinda new. Started, um, started around November, but s'kinda was crazy then, so I didn't notice it anyway. But um, now, yea, it's kinda always there," Ducky shrugs, and a handful of the birds around her ruffle their feathers in mimic of the shrug, "And they do that. I'm not doin' it." She sighs, ruffling her hair again and offering a nervous smile, "Shielding would be good. I'm better at focusing than I was, but it's kinda sorta hard to block /that/ many voices out. They're just there." She tilts her head slightly at the pause from Jax, only her pigeon mimicking this move. "Yeah, apparently I get kinda hyper-er. So no coffee," Ducky shrugs, not seeming too upset about it. "And it was kinda sorta more like eighty-thousandish, really," she admits sheepishly, tugging at the hair at the back of her head and scuffling her foot, "But, um, I can probably get you the money for it this weekend, if, um, if I know how much. Rest of it's getting managed and stuff, because I'm kinda not so good at that. But I wanted to help Horus, so I've got some set aside to do that." She nods emphatically, fidgeting a bit with the coin she was toying with, before putting it back in her pocket.
"No coffee," Jackson agrees very heavily, "is a tragedy. -- Micah-honey," this is brighter, amusement slipping into his tone, "'round here we trade /fair/ heavy in unusual." He glances back to the birds, then nods at Ducky. "I'll talk to him. Cuz if that's startin' t'cut into your sleep an' everything -- definitely should work on gettin' that more in control. And --" Whatever the end to this sentence was meant to be, it just trails off in another yawn, a small blink towards the ruffling birds. "Oh/gosh/." Despite headache and tired he bounces in place happily at this news. "You're a sweetheart, Ducky. This is gonna make his whole year."
"Huh, yeah. They're s'posed t'train...whatever new excitement your X-gene cooks up for you. Make sure you're still able t'live your life an' all." Micah finishes off the remnants of muffin and starts in on peeling the banana. Though the end is stubbornly refusing to open. "An' I'll send you an e-mail soon as I'm on my work computer an' got the numbers t'send. But like I said...s'round about a thousand so if you were budgetin' /ten times/ that, gosh. We should be able t'get this done. Thanks, honey. I always feel bad waitin' on this kinda stuff for purely financial reasons. Happens often enough, though." He finally breaks the banana peel open, the end gone a little mushy in the process.
Ducky nods and ruffles her hair, the starling giving up and moving its perch to her shoulder instead, "I know I shoulda started questioning it earlier, but it's only gotten noticeable recently. So, um, yeah. There's been other stuff kinda getting attention, so I just deal. The not sleeping in the Spring is normal. Birds are loud and vulgar in the Spring, I wake up from it." She shrugs, apparently not bothered by the lack of sleep or the large birds. She bounces at the mention of getting numbers, and nods, "I mean, I just set that aside 'cause I didn't know how much. I just know stuff is expensive, so I guessed. But I'll get you the money once I get the e-mail, 'kay?" Bouncing from one foot to the other, "Thank you, Mr. Micah. For doing this. Though, um, can it maybe be drop proof? Cause I dunno if you saw the last one, but drop proof seems like kinda sorta a good idea." Ducky glances back towards the school, and then back at Micah and Jax, dancing from one foot to the other, "Um, I should probably be getting to classes soonish sorta maybe. Or at least go actually get my stuff. But thank you again, both of you." With a wave, Ducky starts to bounce back towards the back porch, the birds following her in a cheery, chattering little cloud, which disperses once she vanishes inside.
"Bet B could help on reinforcing it," Jackson muses thoughtfully, "or jus' make it a /real/ solid case." He flashes Ducky another smile. "Aright. I'll talk t'the Professor. Have a good day, Ducky." He's finally lifting his own banana, drawing a finger lightly across its top -- a very /thin/ small beam of laser-light neatly cuts the front side open, making it clean and easy when he peels it a few inches down. He quietly sneaks out a hand to claim Micah's mushy-topped banana, replacing Micah's banana with his own. Then settling in with his head tucked against Micah's shoulder. /Possibly/ to fall back asleep, at least until the bell rings.
"We can do cases that're meant t'withstand /children/ chuckin' the things, but not so much...fallin' from /flight/. S'only so much that materials are gonna do reasonably an' still be lightweight an' portable," Micah replies with a little nod, a little shrug. "But we'll get the best case we can for it t'start, at least. An' thank /you/, sugar. S'right generous of you." He looks down at the switched banana in his hand with mild consternation, processing power not quite at full tilt this morning. Eventually he just shrugs again, taking a bite. "Bananas are good."