ArchivedLogs:Beautiful Mess

From X-Men: rEvolution
Beautiful Mess
Dramatis Personae

Micah, Jax

29 March 2015

"Told you there was all kindsa perfect."


<WES> Croton Gorge Park – Westchester

Situated on the east bank of the Hudson, this large park offers events year-round and a plethora of activities for nature lovers. With playgrounds, facilities for camping and swimming, boating and fishing, plentiful trails for hiking, biking, horseback riding, cliffs for rock climbing, grounds for winter sports, and ample ground to just sit and enjoy the weather, these park grounds are a great place to relax year-round. The grounds are well-tended, and with a host of avian and herpetological life, early mornings often find animal lovers scoping out the grounds in search of a glimpse of some rare bird or lizard hiding in the trees or rocks as well.

Late March has finally brought in a bit of that "lamb" weather promised in the "in like a lion, out like a lamb" saying, even if the weather did little but roar for the vast majority of the month. It's a gorgeous day: sunny, clear, warm (relatively speaking) with only a bit of a nip in the occasional breeze. For those cooped up through a long winter, the day /begs/ for outdoor activities. Micah is one who has taken the day up on its sunny invitation: dressed full-on country boy in a worn-out brown brimmed hat, red and orange flannel shirt about half-buttoned over a plain white tee, and faded-out jeans that have seen better days. His most obvious companion on this outing is a perky sorrel mare by the name of Zenith, who seems to be enjoying herself every bit as much for the chance to be /out/ on a trail. She also seems to be taking to Micah's Western saddle and slightly adapted riding method, making it an even better day for all involved. The redhead hmms softly, regarding the clearing that the trail empties into on its next voyage out of the more wooded area it had been lazily snaking through. "What d'you think of here, hon?"

A short behind Micah and Zenith, Jax's white-starred black mare has taken a small detour to investigate some new sprouting crocuses poking up beside the trail. Jax pulls her back onto the trail, following after the other pair out to the clearing. "Oh, gosh, this's perfect. Don't y'think this's perfect, sugar?" Not that Ramiel is answering, far more invested in trotting on ahead into the sunshine. Jax, for his part, has on a large silver-trimmed black Stetson; he's tucked palm fronds into its silver braiding, the fronds folded into the shape of a cross. Black jeans tucked into tall silver and black riding boots, a fringed metallic blue and silver jacket zipped up over the rest of his clothes. "S'got a good view an' everything."

“Pretty sure the blanket's in my pack. Think that spot over there's flat enough t'spread it out once we get the girls settled. You up for lunch right away? Or we can just sun a bit first.” Zenith is more than game for picking up the pace so that Ramiel doesn't get too far ahead. “I'd say's perfect even if Rami's a little less opinionated on the matter,” Micah replies with a chuckle once they're closer again.

"I /always/ want t'sun a bit first." Jax's answer comes brightly, as he rides through to the brightest patch of sunlight to dismount, holding on loosely to Ramiel's reins. "Jus' soak it all in -- this is pretty much the best time of the year for me. Most perfect anyway." He retrieves a few baby carrots from a plastic bag in his pocket, offering them to the mare before trotting over towards Micah and Zenith. "Kinda feel like /hoardin' up/ all the perfect days we can."

"Kinda thought that might be your thinkin' on it," Micah answers with just a hint of knowing tease in his tone. Following suit, he dismounts, though it takes him a little longer to adjust his prosthetic knee for standing and walking instead of riding. The treat he offers Zenith is a little less healthy. Sugar cube, full-on horse bribery. He runs a hand fondly along the mare's neck, which she seems to enjoy if with less /exuberance/ than the sugar. "Feel like there's a lotta perfect t'hoard whenever I can get you t'm'self." His shoulder bumps Jax's playfully as he comes close in the process of getting gear off of Zenith.

Jax grins, leaning up against Micah's side. "I don't know how much perfect /I/ got. I'm sorta mostly composed of mess. But bein' here with you is nice." His own hand lifts, rubbing lightly against Ramiel's nose. "Feel like life's gonna be -- changin' a lot soon. Some quiet with you is -- is a blessin'. Did you know the pups --" He pauses, nose wrinkling, and just leans up a little bit harder against Micah.

"All kinds," Micah assures, taking advantage of the lean to brush kisses along the side of Jax's neck. "S'a beautiful kinda mess. Neatness is for spreadsheets an' libraries. Y'seen how neat I ever bother with most of the time." His free arm wraps around Jax, holding him close through the harder lean. "S'always a lotta changes goin' on." His brow furrows at the incomplete sentence, however. "What? Is somethin' wrong with the twins?"

"Oh gosh, no, not /wrong/, it's just. Jus' they gotten so /old/ an' --" Jax's brow pulls in deeper. "I jus' ain't ready for all this growin' up. Ion an' Kay patched 'em into the /mongrels/ they can't be in a /motorcycle gang/ I ain't even finished teachin' 'em to /drive/ yet an' they're gonna be wanted by the cops. An' B's started gettin' colleges answerin' back an' I jus'." His cheeks flush. "They're so small, I think I'm havin'. Parent growin' pains."

“Ohgosh. That's...less bad than I was worryin', at least. I mean...Ion and Kay, they gotta be doin' somethin' right, right? We handed an /infant/ over t'them already. An' it ain't like the cops been anythin' /but/ after the pups since forever. Y'really think this is gonna make it worse?” Micah /is/ fretting, clearly, by his tone. Just...somewhat less than Jax. “Guess somebody else's gotta teach 'em t'ride the bikes if that ain't happened yet. I'll give 'em the lecture about helmets an' brain injuries. Seen enough of it, m'self.” He tugs the other man in even harder, the lift of his eyebrows at the rest likely unseen for the closeness of the hold. “B's gettin' answers? What're they sayin'? Which ones? Feel like nobody tells me nothin' anymore.”

"Ion an' Kay! I mean, yeah, they -- they been good with the Gremlin but they also kinda -- got a tendency t' -- Kay's on the FBI's most wanted list they ain't exactly --" Jax's nose wrinkles. "An' /motorcycles/. The pups don't even got /bones/ in their skulls that's jus' askin' for brain damage." The fretting turns to pride at the last questions, though. "As'a t'day alla them 'cept Princeton done answer. MIT, Caltech, Georgia Tech, Harvard. Berkeley. Oxford said no. Rest said yes."

"They're just joinin' the motorcycle club, right? They ain't gotta get mixed up in...whatever else they're mixed up in. We can talk to 'em 'bout that, too, okay? Honey, they've counted each other as family so long. It ain't like we can even pretend t'tell 'em /not/ t'be part of this. It might be nice...t'have that kinda symbolic belonging, too, y'know?" Micah leans in to give Jax one last kiss before disentangling long enough to get the horses settled in and start spreading the picnic blanket on the ground. "I'll custom make 'em helmets, sugar. Just right t'fit an' protect 'em. They also /heal/ real quick, so at least. There's that. An' they're less likely t'go gettin' broken bones, for sure..." The thin line of his lips spreads into a pleased smile at the rest of the news. "Oh/gosh/, that's amazin'! The only one that mattered was MIT, though, wasn't it? Did ze accept?"

"Yeah. They love the pups like their own brothers. I jus'..." Jax tips his head up towards the sun when Micah disentangles. "They did torch Themis that one time. An' B's kinda influenceable." He can't help but smile again at the college talk, though. "She ain't said nothin' yet but m'sure she's gonna accept. S'jus' a little fluttery 'bout leavin' Shane. But he's gonna be visitin' all the time. She'll say yes." He stoops to help spread the picnic blanket, then steps forward onto it, slipping his arm around Micah's waist and his hand into his husband's. "Is pretty amazin', though."

"We can have a talk with /them/, too. I know they wouldn't want the pups gettin' hurt, neither. We can just...remind 'em. Mostly...mostly you, maybe. I dunno. I'd like to, but with me Kay'd prob'ly take it as some personal affront from a judgemental flatscan who ain't fit t'be raisin' mutant kids no-how. I can talk more with Ion." Micah's words have no heat to them, only sadness edged with a hint of exhaustion. His smile rekindles right along with Jax's, however. "S'gotta be /all kindsa/ visitin'. I'll be wantin' hir home all the time, too. An' Shane might could go up sometimes... Ev'rybody could schedule Skype sessions like me an' m'momma. It's /almost/ like bein' t'gether. Enough t'get b'tween visits, anyhow." His body fits easily up against Jax's, arms circling him, feet even starting to shift a little as his hips sway. "Y'think they'll let us celebrate this, maybe? Felt so...odd. Not doin' nothin' but presents for their birthday. I just wanna do /ev'rythin'/ t'show 'em how proud of 'em we are an' how much we love 'em."

"I think it'll be hard keepin' Spence at home once B's off away. Gonna hafta talk t'him 'bout not jus' whiskin' off else B'll have him jus' /appearin'/ in the middle'a class." Jax falls into an easy step. Kind of a lazy slow version of swing. "Think maybe they might. Not sure. Eighteen was jus' -- stressy with. Registration an' -- I don't know. But this, this is like a /achievement/. S'worth celebratin'. Shane's been feelin' a li'l antsy, though. Might could hafta talk with him. Like he /knows/ college ain't everythin' but -- there's a lotta pressure on 'em this time'a year an' at school everyone always holds B up as -- the good one."

"Ohgosh, you're right. We got so many /talks/ t'line up now." Micah nuzzles into the space where Jax's neck meets his shoulder, moving along with him in the almost-dance. "It was an awkward...all the stuff that comes 'long with it. I don't mind bein' as low-key or as big-deal as they want. Could do somethin' as small as a dinner or as big as a huge ol' party." His head shakes firmly, only nuzzling him harder against Jax's neck. "B's just better at school. An' inventin'. Shane's...he achieved what was nearly impossible with Evolve. S'a pillar of the community, for goodness' sake. An' he's so musically talented, too. It wouldn't be a celebration just for B. It'd be for /both/ of 'em. They're a crazy successful pair of kids." Another kiss finds its way to the angle of Jax's jaw. "Y'want music? I'm sure I can find somethin' on m'phone worth dancin' to."

"So many. They're all -- growin'." Wistful, maybe, but not /sad/. Proud. "We should plan somethin', for sure." Jax tips his head down, catching one of the kisses against his lips. His smile curls wider. He lifts an arm, taking a step back, his other hand touching lightly to the small of Micah's back to twirl him outward. "Music? Oh, goodness, this really /is/ perfect. I love you, honey-honey."

“Yeah, they are,” Micah agrees with a hint of a sigh, wistful in the same vein as Jax's words. He gladly provides deeper kisses when Jax turns to meet his lips. Said lips only find themselves in a brighter smile at the twirling, sending him away and back. Quickly, he slides his phone from his pocket and sets something vaguely jazzy to match the rhythm of their proto-dance, volume turned up as far as it will go. “I need t'take you dancin' more,” accompanies his coming in close again, steps more certain and less lazy with the music now playing. He leans in for another kiss. “Told you there was all kindsa perfect. Love you, too, sugar.”