ArchivedLogs:Circling Sharks
Circling Sharks | |
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It's a little on the nose, but... | |
Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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31 March 2013 Shelby and Ryan make the musics! Sebastian and Shane have some /questions/ for Micah. |
Location
<NYC> The Bowery | |
The unassuming brick facade outside nevertheless houses one of New York's more popular music venues, host to many popular acts and launching many more /into/ fame. Wide and expansive, the smooth wooden flooring provides lots of standing room, lots of dancing room, and only very rarely any actual /seats/, save the stools at the bar to one side. Stairways to either side lead up to the balcony, both sides of the upper level providing a good view of the curtained stage. There is usually a crowd by the bar, during shows, packed and bustling -- and indeed there still /is/, here, tonight. A crowd down at the /far/ end of the bar. Giving the /closer/ end of the bar to the stage a WIDE berth. The figure perched on a stool there, watching rather /raptly/ the girl backing up Ryan on stage, is hardly big enough to provide much by way of intimidation -- though. Perhaps. Upon closer inspection, the blue skin and uncanny-valley nature of his features or the razorsharp teeth that show through on his brief smiles for the music provide plenty of clues as to why he is being left alone. The bartender, too, is staying far away, having left the teenager with a glass of water that he is slowly sipping. He's dressed /brightly/ colourful; grey and pink platform sneakers, purple corduroys, a pale yellow and pink Fluttershy teeshirt, purple fishnet sleeves pinned to its short-sleeves. He is not wearing a hoodie for once despite being in public! Though his kind of hunched posture suggests he kind of is maybe regretting the decision not to go for further concealment. Further concealment /comes/, though, in the form of a corduroy jacket -- familiarly purple, familiarly /Jax's/ (especially given the black patch on its back that reads in pink text: "not gay as in happy, queer as in fuck you") DUMPED onto Sebastian's head. Shane has been out dancing! With another pair of teenagers, one willowy-tall girl with bright green eyes, one even taller dark-haired boy dressed rather /elegantly/ for a night of indie rock. Shane has paired a pinstriped vest with short-sleeved tee and dark jeans. And formerly a (stolen) corduroy jacket, which is now gracing Sebastian's spiky black hair. "Oh my /god/, even happy you manage to look like a sadsack." He presses at the small of Sebastian's back, presses /back/ at his shoulders. Correcting that hunched posture! SO HELPFULLY! And then nabbing Sebastian's water for a gulp. He's watching the stage, too, if less rapt in attention. "You should go dance with Daiki, s'like a drug. Except without the drug part." Micah is…entirely uninteresting-looking compared to the people at this end of the bar, outfitted as he is in faded, patched jeans and a black bleach-speckled T-shirt (which depicts a stick figure brandishing a calculator and an Erlenmeyer flask while declaring ‘Stand back I’m going to try Science’ in white lettering). His auburn hair is its typical tousled mess, having seen little tending and likely more than its fair share of idle finger-combing this evening. He has wandered over to the conveniently half-empty side of the bar for the terribly original purpose of ordering drinks! The somewhat familiar twins manage to steal his attention, however. Jax would want to hear how they’re doing. “Good to see you two lookin’ happy,” he offers with a warm grin and a small wave of greeting, plunking himself down on a neighbouring stool. Sebastian pulls the jacket off his head so he can resume his staring at the stage, though he is malleable to Shane's adjustments, sitting up a bit straighter. Being less SADSACKY. "Like /you're/ one to talk, you barely even -- Oh my /gosh/, I /love/ XKCD." Sebastian's potential berating of Shane's recent spout of MOPE is interrupted by geekshirt. At the same time, Shane's smile fades into a scowl. "Who the fuck are you?" he asks, before even bothering to look. He does /sniff/, though, vaguely in Micah's direction. Sebastian elbows him in the side. "C'/mon/ he's Pa's --" Stop, frown. Sebastian just lets that sentence sit. Shane doesn't, though! He looks Micah over and picks up exactly where Sebastian is trailing off: "-- fuckbuddy, oh, right. Hey. Y'wanna buy me a beer?" Look, he's even smiling again! /Bright/. Toothy. Sebastian winces. "Sorry," he reflexively apologizes on his brother's behalf. "You're, um, you're Micah, right?" Micah’s grin widens at Sebastian’s greeting…well…shared-geekery, really. “It’s definitely one of my favourites.” He doesn’t get much chance to respond between the twins’ interrupting one another, but clearly has found something to start blushing about in all of that, pink creeping along his nose and cheeks. “Uh…hi. Yes. Micah is me. And no, I’m not buying alcohol for minors.” He crinkles his nose, his grin still present and playful, despite putting forth this denial. "Alright, but I think you need a beer," Shane decides. "You /look/ like you need a beer." "I don't know, he looks kinda happy to me." Sebastian swivels on his stool, although kind of reluctantly as he looks away from the stage towards Micah. "Did you dance? Do you dance? Pa dances. Like a lot." For a moment he scans the crowded hall, though picking out even someone as colourful as Jax in the crush of people is difficult. "/Can/ you dance with that thing?" Shane is jerking his head towards Micah's leg. And waving a clawed hand at the bartender, who is definitely ignoring him. Sebastian scrubs at his face with a palm, his cheeks darkening nearer to purple. His posture is wilting back down to hunched. Helpfully, Shane pokes at his back again to straighten him up. "What? Was just a question." Hazel eyes are darting from one twin back to the other like they're watching a tennis match. "I'm really not excessively into beer...has to be just the right kind when I'm in just the right mood for it. I know, they're gonna withdraw my license to have German genes," he jokes lightly, breezing right past the fact that he's pretty much onto the angle Shane is working. "Did. Do. Will. He likes dancin' 'bout as much as I like singin'. We could start a musical." His hand taps at his left knee idly. "Yeah, I can. I mean...as long as there ain't too much fast direction changin' and the like. It can get hard for the knee to keep up with the variable input." Micah watches Shane trying to flag down the bartender. "You want somethin' /not/ alcoholic? I can help with that..." "You /could/ make a musical! Do you know Pippin, Desi says her brother's got tickets and Pa kind of loves that one. Probably /especially/ the new revival I hear it's basically like --" "-- Super fucking gay," Shane says, "like colourful out the fucking wazoo. Like A freaking /circus/." "You should go!" Sebastian suggests, "but then he'll be singing musicalsongs at you for /ever/." "Are you at the like, /actual/ dates-dating part of dating or are you still just boning a lot, cuz, uh, maybe they're not serious enough for dates yet." Shane frowns at the bartender. "-- C'/mon/, man," he says to Micah, "/Pa/ lets me have beers." "At /home/," Sebastian says, blushing a little deeper, "um, doesn't the dating part come /first/ usually?" Micah giggles at the musical recommendations. “I’m not about to complain about anybody singin’ songs from musicals. I /like/ havin’ someone to harmonize with…” He never really gets around to addressing most of the ‘dating’ questions because he seems to be too busy finding a nice shade of red to go with his /face/. “Um…we went to an incredibly creepytown party a few nights ago? It kind of exploded, though.” Oh, look! A discussion that’s easier to have! How are you, underage drinking conversation? “I’m not against the idea of teenagers drinkin’ in moderation, with their parents’ permission, but I’m not buyin’ you anythin’ in public. Seriously, though…somethin’ /not/ beer?” "I mean, Pa can't sing like --" Shane gestures up towards Ryan on stage. Perhaps with a /bit/ of Sebastian's earlier rapt attention, though he is definitely more busy /ogling/ the headlining performer than his backup vocalist. "-- but he makes up for it with /enthusiasm/." "He'll have a Mountain Dew," Sebastian orders for Shane, sipping at his own water. "I don't think Norman Osborn's terrifying thing counts as a date." "Yeah, um, maybe like a date that's /not/ getting exploded by attackers? Does it count as a date if you're /working/?" Shane frowns, and then looks up at Micah. "You going to the freak-Clinic announcement thing Thursday? Pa's working, he'll probably get shot at /there/ too. Totally romantic." It's hard to discern with pupilless eyes when they are rolling, but his tone implies ROLLING at the idea that Oscorp's gala was a /date/. "Is this a date?" Sebastian gestures at the club around them. “Enthusiasm counts for a lot, really,” Micah replies, still smiling…and still red, with little hope of this improving given the twins’ choice in topics. He tries to draw the bartender’s attention, expecting he’ll have somewhat more success than the boys. A slight crinkling of his nose betrays some irritation with that expectation. “No, I really don’t expect it does. We haven’t been too fussed with labellin’ anythin’…” Micah thumbs through his invisible mental calendar, which appears to be positioned somewhere over the stage, from the direction of his gaze. “I…think I may have work obligations then, myself. Less gettin’ shot at to be expected in my line, though… Hopefully Jax ain’t gettin’ shot at.” His brows knit together in concern. "You kidding?" Shane says, "First mutant clinic on earth, /someone's/ getting shot at. OK, probably not Pa but s'his /job/ to get --" "It's not his job to /get/ shot at it's his job to stop /Iolaus/ getting shot. He'll be okay." Except Sebastian says this kind of frettily. "Oh come /on/ that's such a weasel-statement." Shane might be not talking about the clinic event anymore. "I mean the whole we're not really labelling things -- thing, like, that's cool and all if you're talking about who you like to fuck in /theory/ and a lot messier if you're talking about who you're /actually/ fucking, like, right the fuck /now/. Cuz then nobody's sure where they stand and someone ends up fucking --" "-- unhappy?" Sebastian crinkles his nose, crossing his arms on the top of the bar. "I mean, you could've said that with a lot less 'fuck' in." "/Someone/ fucking ends up fucking unhappy. Like what is it serious is it just messing around is it /monogamous/ if it's not does it matter how it's not? Like if he goes and fucks Tag or you go and --" Shane frowns at Micah. "I mean, fuck pretty much anyone, I guess, you probably don't have a real hard time finding --" "-- maybe he should have a drink he's almost nicer," Sebastian interrupts this apologetically, his gills fluttering at the sides of his neck. The bartender, meanwhile, /is/ in fact responding to Micah with a lot more alacrity than the twins! He comes over, though he side-eyes the teenagers and doesn't stray any farther than he absolutely has to reach Micah. "They bothering you?" is his first question, even before, "What can I get you?" “Hopefully ain’t /nobody/ gettin’ shot at. Jax’s kind of good at stoppin’ that from happenin’, though, come to think of it…” And then Shane starts talking again. Micah seems to have decided that he needed a deeper shade of red…on all visible skin. He melts down into the barstool a bit. “Look, the problem is that I really don’t know how appropriate this discussion is to be havin’, all things considered.” A hand rakes through his hair, sending it sticking up at a slightly different angle. “No alcohol!” he reiterates, before turning to the bartender. “Not in the least. They’re friends. A Mountain Dew, a ginger ale, and another water, please?” Shane just /smiles/ at the bartender brightly. With a cheerful "thanks"! "See," he says to his brother, "I have manners. /Anyway/ this is /entirely/ appropriate conversation to be having," he's continuing to Micah as the bartender reluctantly procures all the drinks. "Cuz I mean, okay, fucking around is fucking around and relationships are relationships and they happen and they end and s'all cool but /man/ if you /hurt/ my pa I'll --" "-- Bite your other leg off?" This is actually from Sebastian, oddly enough, quiet but strongly /protective/. He kind of dips his head apologetically as soon as he's said it, but it makes Shane /grin/. And jerk a thumb at his brother. "See, he gets me." Micah lets out a heavy breath, not quite qualifying as a sigh. "I get that you guys have questions. I'm just not sure I'm the right /person/ to be answerin' them. And I got no aims at hurtin' nobody. I... Look, I told Jax what I was feelin'. But /his/ situation is about a thousand and one times more complicated than mine. So I'm not pushin'. He needs more time to sort things out than I do." He actually /smirks/ at the threat of violence. "I don't doubt you could or would, either. S'it helpful information that I'm not runnin' away now?" The twins quiet, at this, black eyes turning to meet each others' for a long silent moment. "Yeah," they say in unision, after a moment, and Shane, quieter: "Yeah, it is." He actually shifts, now, to take a seat on a stool in between Micah and Sebastian. "Yeah, I mean, after our last --" Sebastian starts, but this time it is Shane who cuts him off quickly: "You're not, like, fucking just crazy or something are you? I mean that'd /also/ be a plausible reason for sticking around." "He doesn't seem really crazy," Sebastian says with a shrug. Shane takes the Mountain Dew, gulps down a large swallow. "What /is/ your situation?" Micah busies himself for a moment exchanging cash for cups with the bartender, muttering the polite pleasantries appropriate to the task. He gives Shane a theatrically thoughtful look. "I generally don't get accused of an overabundance of sanity..." The look melts into a fond sort of smile before he continues, more in earnest. "I just moved here a little over seven months ago, startin' a two-person assistive tech. business in the process. All my family is in Virginia. I only had a handful of friends up here that I only really knew from online-life...albeit extendedly...until recently. I was just too /busy/ gettin' set up for anythin' else. So. Remarkably uncomplicated right now." He chuckles softly at himself. "That's the surface summary. Y'got more specific questions, I'll try to answer 'em." "Remarkably uncomplicated right /now/." Sebastian takes his water, takes a gulp, too. "You lived in /Virginia/? Man and I thought you had it rough just /already/ but that's kinda shitty." Shane's nose wrinkles up at the mention of Virginia. "/Was/ it shitty? I mean before here. Whatever. Growing up. For you. I mean, you kinda --" "-- have been taking a lot of this in stride." Sebastian is glancing back towards the stage, his lips curled up into a smile for a moment. Self-consciously close-lipped to hide his teeth. "Like all of us. All of this. Most people don't unless they've sorta had --" "Well, their own shit to deal with." Shane's hand flicks towards Micah's leg again, but he's looking at the stage, too, smile fading into thoughtfulness as he watches Ryan. "And nobody's really /that/ uncomplicated." "Everybody's got baggage," Micah answers as if Sebastian had actually asked a question. "It's how you /learn/ to grow the fuck up." His lopsided grin has returned with that. He continues to answer Shane's /actual/ questions. "And yes, I lived in Virginia my whole /life/ until I moved here. I wouldn't say it was 'shitty'. I'm kinda used to bein' in rooms where I'm the person who's had the /least/ hard time of it. But... Queer Jewish kid with an obvious disability in a state where they just this year /legally/ figured it was not a crime against morality for couples who aren't married to live together? I'm more than a little not okay with prejudgement, discrimination, or bigotry." Micah /might/ have said that last sentence a fraction louder than was entirely necessary. "Queer Jewish cripple in the South, see, that's shitty." Shane rests an elbow against the bar, eyes travelling back up towards Ryan again. "If baggage made you learn to grow up we'd --" "-- be dead of old age," Sebastian says, but he says it with an amused smile. "Do you really live in your van?" "Growin' up ain't a matter of age. Some people never bother!" Micah sounds somewhat chipper about that. "And yes. I'm too young to be doin' what I'm doin' without comin' from money. There's a lot of tech runnin' my business, and the business /itself/ is a lot of tech, and then there's a lot of dealin' with insurance companies. So. The easiest thing to cut out was rent." "Why don't you live in our room?" comes from both the twins, though Shane tacks on at the end, "I mean, c'mon, your /van/? We've got real beds. And it's not like we're using 'em." Sebastian peers at Micah uncertainly. "How old /are/ you, anyway?" "No, that's...no. That's the kind of pushin' I'm specific'ly tryin' not to do. Also? I like treatin' things like you guys're gonna be back any second. This whole thing is ridiculous." Micah finally pauses to sample his drink. "Oh. Twenty-six. I know...I still get carded. But not /that/ that young. It's just that it's about six years even to get the degree for what I do." "Even when we're /back/ we're not back," Sebastian says with a shrug. "Boarding school. Those beds are always empty." "Well, not /always/. When we get back I'm /totally/ planning to call Eric and --" "-- so you went to a /lot/ of school?" Sebastian interrupts, looking to Micah again. "Where? I don't even know what kind of degree you get for the kind of thing you do." "-- Are you trying to do other kinds of pushing?" Shane has more important priorities than silly questions about academia. "Cuz, uh, Pa really likes -- yeeow!" This last comes because Sebastian has leaned over and /bitten/ him on the arm. CHOMP. Okay more like chomp. No capitals. Just small marks poked into his skin in a wide half-moon. "What that's not like a secret!" Micah decides to skip right to the school questions, which are easy to answer. "Master's of Science in Orthotics and Prosthetics, at UVA. Then there's a certification to be an orthotist/prosthetist. I also went through another certification program to be a general assistive tech professional, but that's just a lot of required experience hours and a monster of an exam. It's super convenient for patients to be able to get all of their devices from the same company, though. Not a lot of folks offer that." Shane seems to have developed a particular skill at getting Micah to blush! Not that it takes a lot of skill. But he had finally managed to get back to baseline colouration, too... "Yeah, well. That's /not/ what I was talkin' about." "That's really kind of cool. I mean you're kind of like a doctor except minus the scary." Sebastian sounds approving of this. "I kinda maybe want to be --" But here he just shakes his head, and looks back towards the stage. "You turn red really easily." Shane gulps down the rest of his soda in one long chug, and slides off his stool. He holds a hand out towards Micah, fingers beckoning somewhat impatiently. "C'mon. Finish your whateverthefuck you're drinking." "It's a ginger ale," Sebastian helpfully supplies, although Shane answers this with a, "whatever. C'mon. You're dancing." "Not all doctors are scary. Y'just have to meet enough of 'em to find the ones who didn't let all the schoolin' and internin' knock the /good person/ out of 'em." Micah's smile broadens again. "I do. It's the redhead curse. Honestly, it just means 'I am experiencin' an emotion'. Doesn't necessarily tell you which one. Though I am, like, the world's most transparent person most of the time..." He scrunches his nose. "But...dancin'. Aye aye, Cap'n." He offers Shane a smart mock-salute. "The ones who've treated us are scary," Shane clarifies, as Sebastian just kind of looks down into his water with a frown, his gills fluttering slowly. Shane reaches a hand out, brushes his fingertips lightly down the side of Sebastian's neck until the fluttering stops. "You know, I know a person who's transparent. Sometimes." His hand drops, clamps around Sebastian's wrist to drag him bodily off his stool. His other reaches for Micah's hand because apparently this is COMPULSORY dancing time. "C'mon. You can meet our friends. Just don't touch Desi she and her brother freak about that." "Lucien doesn't /freak/ he just -- okay. Maybe a little freaks." Sebastian's nose wrinkles, and he represses a shudder, but he slides off the stool to come along. "You'll like Daiki, though." Shane says this with a /wide/ grin, tugtugtugging towards the crowd. "Everybody does." Sebastian's nose wrinkles further. But he is tagging along. Because dancing. |