ArchivedLogs:Colourful Doom

Colourful Doom
Dramatis Personae Jax, Micah, Spencer
In Absentia	1 June 2014 Shopping for the new house.
Location <NYC> Home Goods Store
Jackson is, perhaps, not taking furnishing their new home quite as seriously as he possibly could. He has a cart that is half-loaded with /Things/, new goods of all colours and kinds for their New Home. At the /moment, though, what he is doing is affixing a vivid purple bath rug around Spencer's shoulders cape-style. /Spence/ has armed himself with a shower curtain rod, currently collapsed. Black. Plastic. He's holding it fencing-foil style to swish-jab lightly towards Jax's midsection as Jax stands. "Tss," Jax chides, lightly (his /own/ cape is lime green, in contrast to his cheerful yellow tank and black dragonfly-embroidered capris), "you didn't even salute first, for /shame/." Micah is somewhat along for the ride today, letting his more style-oriented husband narrow down choices of things for him to pick from. At least at the home goods end of things. He was a bit more helpful in the hardware and lumber department for the initial supply run for /building/ furniture. He is dressed a bit less impressively in his kelly green red panda T-shirt, patched bluejeans, and sneakers. The outfit is made more interesting by a child's hooded bath towel in Batman costume theme that is serving rather as /intended/ for his cape. "Mmn, yes. All 'bout bein' /proper/ 'fore y'go after folks with stabby things," he muses as he glances at the shelves in their current aisle. Jax grabs another shower rod -- this one is silver, brushed-nickel finish to it though it's very lightweight as he tosses it towards Micah. "Manners is /real/ important 'fore you go about pokin' people." Dutifully, Spencer lifts his curtain rod to salute Micah, with a /flourish/. "Shane's been teaching me," he informs his father cheerfully as he drops back into a very bouncy sot of fencing stance. "He's the proper/est/." Jax's smile is just a little twitchy here. "-- s'pose we should get some'a these bath mats actually /for/ the bathroom." And not for smallchild-capes. Snickering, Micah snags the tossed rod from the air with a small flourish. “That's so...British. 'Oh, terribly sorry. I'll need to be putting my sword into your abdomen now. Sincerest apologies. This is all quite embarrassing, really,” he play-acts with an exceedingly proper English accent before mime-stabbing the air /daintily/ with his curtain rod. “He's 'bout as proper as he needs t'be not t'get fussed at by judges. Sometimes. When he remembers. For a little while.” Placing the curtain rod back where it belongs, he moves to thumb through piles of bath mats. “Did y'have colour schemes in mind?” "Well. I was kinda thinkin'a this sorta faeryland. Theme for." Jax flutters his fingers in the air, but then /frowns/ when this does not produce the desired effects -- even after a month, perhaps, not /quite/ used to not just being able to summon up /visuals/ as he talks. "Maybe blue for one'a the bathooms if that's a river or oceany theme an' reds an' oranges for the other -- deserts can have faerycreatures /too/ right? But I could mosaic up all the walls an' then jus' choose all the little-things t'go along with the mural. Seamonsters battlin' it out for dominance of the bathtub. Waterpixies tryin' to mess with the light switches." Spencer bats back at Micah's curtain rod with his own. "Can there be a /kraken/?" He sounds very eager on this point. Eager, too, as he lunges to poke-poke towards Micah's belly. "Am I s'posed to apologize, too?" "That sounds cute, actually. Murals on larger walls, like where you'd usually throw in a deeper accent colour. Accent touches here and there. Do some thematic but more subtle patterning to break up the rest of it. I like it. Should prob'ly decide major colours for the other rooms, too. Unless you already had plans? I really...only planned out Spence's room 'cause kids rooms are the /best/." Micah chuckles and dodges Spence's poking to ruffle to boy's hair. "Only need t'apologise if y'upset somebody or y'actually make contact with the play-sword by accident. Which you're tryin' t'avoid doin'." "Break up the rest of it?" For a moment Jax stops -- he's gotten briefly distracted by brightly-coloured (mosaic-y!) toothbrush-holders, trailing his fingers against the patterned glass -- to turn his eye, puzzled, to Micah. "What rest of it, I just meant like. The whole --" He sweeps a hand out. Overhead. /Around/. Bap! Spencer's rod-sword thwaps lightly up against Micah's arm as though to /parry/ this hair-ruffling, though in the end his hair remains quite ruffled. "No way I'm not trying to avoid /anything/ I'm trying to /vanquish you/." "/Vanquish/ him? He /is/ a pretty mighty foe. Cybernetic parts an' everything. S'been /upgraded/ for battle." Jax picks up a liquid soap dispenser, translucent blue glass, and takes its top off so that he can hold it up to his eye, peering through it at the others. "No other plans /yet/. Somethin' pretty? The faeries could spill /out/. Kitchen-faeries. Workin' magic with spices." "As in...not havin' /every/ wall be entirely patterned in wild faery patterns? Y'want t'have a few things that're eye-catchin'. Not an entire...visual maze. People'll get /seasick/. Think that's a bit more realism than we're goin' for." Micah cringes a little at the thought of an all-coloured light-reflecting mosaic on all of the walls. "I like the kitchen faeries, though. All with edible flowers an' herbs an' produce. That'd be cute. Have like a...light blue an' green' an' some accents of brighter colours in the flowers an' whatnots? Could do a little paintin' on the cabinets, even. An' it could spill into the dinin' area easily. We gonna carry this through the whole house? We got water faeries, desert faeries, sorta...pastoral faeries. Could do a forest faery room. Maybe the livin' room? An' maybe a more sky themed one for the bedroom. Lotsa wingy things. Could do a daytime sky and a nighttime sky, one each for our bedroom an' the guest room. Sun room's mostly windows as it is. You got /full/ control over what y'want in your studio space." He reaches out to move Spencer's curtain rod gently back toward him. "No contact unless you're playin' with paddin'. That's when folks accidentally get hurt. Mime an' pretend all y'want, but carefully while we're in the store." "Faery/land/. All sortsa magical-type creatures that live in there /with/ 'em." Jax's brow furrows at Micah's cringing, his teeth sinking down against his lip. "... Not /every/ wall?" There's a trace of disappointment in his tone. "Was jus' gonna make the bathrooms like --" His fingers flutter again. "What about the showers?" Spencer pulls his rod back, puzzled. "I bap Shane and B a lot." "Shane an' B is made outta rubber an' grit, they ain't good standards t'judge by," Jax answers him. "Listen t'your Ba." Spencer considers this, and considers his curtain rod. Thwacks his rod this time against /Micah's/, testingly. "Not every wall," Micah reiterates with a slight headshake. "Same idea could be with the showers. Do /one/ wall in a mural with the other two in simple patterns on the theme. Even in the /shower/ seasick ain't a preferred feelin'." He moves to a different pile of mats based on the input from Jax thus far. "Spence. /No/ contact, please. Or we'll have t'put the sword away. Pretend only." "But --" Jax turns huge puppy-eye on Micah, a disappointed note to his tone. "One -- okay." His head hangs slightly, hand lifting to rub against the back of his neck. "I thought you meant no contact with /you/," Spencer explains a little defensively. "That was just your /sword/. Swish-flick. His next batted (air-strike!) toward Micah comes with lightsaber sound effects. "That's a pretty oceany shade." Jax has claimed a curtain rod of his own, now. Not for fighting but for pointing towards a soft diamond-shaped bathmat. "Maybe that an' green." “Oh...honey, this way people'll be able t'/appreciate/ your artwork an' not be overwhelmed by it. It'll be /featured/ in the rooms. Not takin' 'em over.” Micah takes a few steps to close the distance between himself and Jax, placing a light kiss at the other man's temple. “It'll be amazin'. An' you'll have /plenty/ enough t'do just puttin' /that/ in, b'lieve me.” He nods at the mats, reaching for the one indicated and picking an emerald green to hold next to it. “How's this?” "But /will/ there be a kraken?" Spencer asks again hopefully. "Maybe sea serpents?" "There can be a kraken. /An'/ sea serpents." Jax perks right back up at the kiss, bouncing happily and snaking an arm around his husband's waist. "Perfect. Need deserty ones for downstairs too. Tawny -- sandy. Colours. I /guess/," he acknowledges now with a sudden deep flush, "I can get kinda overwhelmin' when I don't got a bit'a sane to temper me." Micah deposits the mats into the cart. “Hm...sandy. Maybe some golds an' burnt sorta red-oranges.” He leans into Jax, his eyes scanning the shelves again. “Ohgosh, am I the voice of reason now? Help us all.” Dramatically, he brings his forehead down into his hand. Jax waves a hand towards himself, giggling. "Look who you're married to, honey-honey. Think you /kinda/ doomed yourself to bein' the voice'a reason, yeah. Thankfully for you I don't set a /real/ high bar for you t'cross. -- is our whole house /doomed/?" "Yes," Spencer answers him cheerfully. "Well." Jax looks spectacularly unconcerned about the prospect of Doom. "S'gonna be a proper colourful doom, at least."