ArchivedLogs:Bullshit

Bullshit
Dramatis Personae Hive, Melinda, Tola	2014-06-16 Thoughts on Registration
Location <NYC> {Geekhaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
There's an open airy feel to the floorplan of this unit. The door opens up into a wide expanse of common space that is not so much divided up into rooms as it is simply multipurposed. Ash-grey resin flooring underfoot runs up against the paler grey of the exposed stone in the walls; between the stone support there are wide floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the river on one side of the home and the Commons' central yard on the other. Half of the space has a ceiling at one-floor height, though half of the space is left open with a balcony up on the second floor overlooking the living space below. A slatted stairway heads up to the second floor balcony; on the other side of the room, a fireman's pole running straight down the the basement provides a quicker way /down/. The wide open space here is combination living and dining room; near the windows there are a pair of couches and large armchair around a wide coffeetable; further off a steel-and-glass dining table is surrounded by eight tall black chairs. A full bathroom behind the stairway is done up in dark granite; the glass-doored bathtub/shower is rather expansively large. The kitchen is tucked off in back, beneath the half-height ceiling; in here the appliances and cabinets and shelving recessed into the wall are in brushed steel, wide grey sweeps of tempered glass countertops running around the edge of the room and a large central island holding stoves and oven and deep double sink. Adjacent to the kitchen, beneath the ceiling as well, is a sitting area structured largely around the enormous television against one wall, a wealth of video games for a number of consoles held on the shelves around the television. Crates and beanbags and one low futon folded against the floor are arranged in good viewing distance; opposite the television, a sturdy large pen built out of wood shrines a couch amid a sea of brightly colorful playpen balls. A door in one wall opens up to the apartment next door; a door opposite leads down to the basement. Geekhaus is /quiet/, just at the moment. There's a large /box/ sitting in front of the ballpit-sofa off in back, Samsung logo on its outside and evidently a television /inside/ judging by the text on its side, though as yet nobody has opened the Box or situated the huge television in its place of honor in the entertainment system. Possibly Hive has been /intending/ to do that -- at least he's abandoned his work for now (though signs of it are evident in the diagrams and sketches strewn across the dining table, the laptop still open atop it. The telepath isn't working anymore, though; instead he has flopped down in a sprawl on the sitting oom floor, avoiding all the crates and beanbags that /would/ serve as proper seating and instead just lying on his back with his arm crooked over his eyes. He's dressed lazily, old fraying jeans and a plain white tee. After a long day of serving the needs of caffeine starved addicts, one would think that Mel would want some time to herself to unwind. This is not the case. After coming home and dumping pumped milk into the freezer, she picks up her child and heads out again. Instead of venturing into the city, she heads to the neighbor's. Hive perhaps has some warning. She's thinking of dinner - Thai especially, but she's still being careful about shellfish and fish in general while she's nursing, so she needs to bug him about which dishes at that place where she can barely pronounce the names of the dishes will guarantee her a sea-free meal. She doesn't really have to have Thai food. She just wants to say hi. She's not used to work without him either. Before, he was always there. Of course, that was before the convenience of Evolve and the fact that the fledging business needs support. Whatever the final reason she decides is for coming over, Mel is slipping her key into the lock a scarce half hour after coming home. She looks around quietly, knocking on the door as she steps in quietly. "Hey? Anyone home?" She waits in the doorway for a reply before kicking off her shoes and venturing further. "No." Hive's answer is called out from far off in back where he's still sprawled on the floor, though this is immediately followed by, "shit yeah I could go for Thai. We're ordering delivery, right? Because fuck if I'm getting. Up." His arm still hasn't moved from his eyes. "Oh god is fish terrible and going to fuck her up forever? Because I'm pretty sure /my/ mom lived on a freaking. Seafood diet through having all of us and -- wait, fuck, that'd explain a lot wouldn't it?" "Bah. If all you've ever eaten is fish then there's a good chance that you're either immune or adapted to any bacteria present in the animal. I don't eat it often enough to even remotely claim that." Mel closes the door behind her and removes her footwear, heading to where Hive is. She's changed into a pair of leggings and a long and baggy tank top for the evening, the heat still lingering on the city despite what the river does to cool it. She sighs as she moves to kneel down beside him on the ground. "Honey, I'll consider you wrecked by seafood the moment you turn as pink as a flamingo. Yes. We're ordering. I'm exhausted." "Yeah, we were /pretty/ seafood heavy, growing up, my dad --" Hive trails off here as Mel comes in and sits down, shifting over so his head rests up against her legs. "Don't say that around Tag, he'll /turn/ me pink. Though man he did a fucking amazing job with Dusk's wings one time maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Oh. Ohshit. Ordering. Fuck." He struggles up onto his elbows, /glaring/ the looong distance across his house to where he's left his laptop off in the living room. "Why didn't I get goddamn telekinesis instead." "Bah." Mel gets comfortable, running her fingers through Hive's hair. "You'd be an adorable flamingo." She is quiet as he pulls himself up. She waits until he is stable before turning him and handing over Tola before crawling over to the lap top herself. "If you could choose what your mutation did, the world would be a happier place - or at least full of people who at least felt like they were getting what they asked for, even if it wasn't as pleasant as they thought it'd be." "Adorable? Heh. I don't get that a lot. You have /unique/ taste, Mel." Hive scoops Tola in against himself, moving to lean back against the sturdy wood-and-plastic-net frame of the ballpit so that he is more supported as he holds her. "Man you have no idea how many fucking people I hear think they want telepathy, it'd make life so much fucking easier to just scam their way through --" He shakes his head, curling his legs up so that he can rest Tola against his thighs. "I just -- I did it." A slow swallow rolls down his throat. "On Saturday. Flicker took me down to the fucking -- I /registered/ and." His brow rumples, eyes shifting down to watch Tola. There's music playing in his head, Simon and Garfunkel singing and though he spares Mel his abrasive-bludgeony mental touch the song spills out to share with Tola, too. "Yeah, I've heard that before." Mel likes what she likes. She brings the lap top back to Hive and moves in to sit beside him, shoulder pressing against shoulder. "Registered, huh." She turns this over in her head, not especially pleased with the whole concept. Not upset with him, per se, just annoyed that the whole process exists. "For immigration paperwork?" She inhales deeply and purses her lips, looking over at Tola as well, hoping that this bullshit does not exist when she's older. "I haven't." << Should I? >> She's not attempting to draw attention to that thought, it's just loud and clear in her mind. Would it help her daughter, or would it draw attention? Hive makes sure Tola is securely settled before shifting one arm away to curl around Mel's shoulders. He lets the laptop stay in /her/ lap for now, his rather occupied with Baby; his fingers press in against her shoulder, eyes still fixed on Tola. "Yeah. It was that or get shipped back home. My whole fucking application's hanging on a thread right now and /any/thing out of place woulda -- I had to." Even if Mel's not upset with him there's a faint defensive note to his tone like /he's/ maybe upset with himself. "But I just. Have a feeling that /P/ they're going to stick on me is -- things are /going/ to get ugly. Sooner or later. And." He shakes his head, running his hand slowly against Mel's arm. "I don't know," he admits, softer. "So far I haven't heard of much heat coming down on people who haven't -- unless they're actively /campaigning/ against it -- but it /is/ gonna be bullshit flung at you eventually. But. I don't know. Enough people hold out, if we actually /win/ that fight, that'll be /less/ bullshit for her down the road, yeah? I just don't fucking know anything anymore. They start walloping you with fines, though, I'll help out there. I hear they can get pretty fucking steep." Mel is quiet in voice and in mind, her concern murmuring over the recognition of her surroundings, the press of his hand, the weight of his arm, the stillness of the apartment and the noise of the city outside. She doesn't want to think about the shit Tola's going to have to go through - and she'll do whatever it takes to make sure the child doesn't have to bear the brunt of the nastiest the government can dish out -- but she's unsure how to do that. "Thanks. I really hope it doesn't come to that, though." She shakes her head slightly and lets her head roll toward his, eyes sliding shut. Her thoughts become active again - searching for ways to help him with his situation, but everything seems to complicate. Even a marriage right now seems like it would be suspect in his pursuit of a visa. "So, what do you want to eat?" Hive is quiet, too, externally even if his mental radio is now regaling Tola with "At the Zoo" once "Hazy Shade of Winter" has passed. He turns his head towards Mel, pressing a kiss to her forehead. His own eyes close, cheek tipping to rest against her hair. There's a very small tug upward at his lips, but it fades without explanation. He just drops another kiss onto her head, leaning down slightly to open the laptop back up so they can make food appear.