ArchivedLogs:Couchfort!

Couchfort!
(Oh. And preparations for Ryan's birthday.)
Dramatis Personae Micah, Shane, Sebastian, Jackson, Spencer
In Absentia	22 August 2013 Micah's answer to the plague of sadfaces is Epic Scale Silliness.
Location <NYC> 303 {Lighthaus} - Village Lofts - East Village
This apartment is cheerful, in its way -- bright and airy, its floor plan open and a plethora of windows providing it with an abundance of light. The tiny entrance hall opens into a living room, small, though its sparse furniture and lack of clutter give it a more open feel. The decor is subdued and minimalist; black and white is the dominant theme, with occasional splashes of deep crimson to offset the monochrome, though of late myriad bright-coloured dragonflies swarm across the living room wall. The couch and armchair are upholstered in black corduroy, the low wide coffee table central is black wood and glass-topped, and a few large pillowy beanbags provide additional seating by the large windows that dominate the back wall. Towards the back, a couple of doors lead off into bedrooms and bathroom, and to the right, the kitchen's tile is separated from the living room's dark hardwood floors by black countertops. Above the bedroom to one side, there is higher space; a ladder climbs up to a lofted area looking down on the living room. Standing in front of the partition between living and cooking area is a large fish tank: one lone Betta, blood-red, swims regally among several species of black and silver fish. A hallway beyond the kitchen leads further into the apartment. Another bathroom stands just into the hall and the farthest door leads to the apartment's final bedroom, the door usually kept shut to hold in the acrid fumes of turpentine and paints from within. Micah wandered in at a decent hour this evening, gave Jax (who was busy fretting over cookings and bakings in the kitchen) a hug in greeting, and disappeared into the bedroom. He returned changed from work clothes into his black Reading Rainbow-dash T-shirt and multicolour-patched jeans. Then quietly, without explanation, began removing couch cushions and stacking them around the couch. Pulling the giant pile of spare sheets out of the closet and draping them around. Adding pillows, even dragging some of the collection of old mattresses out of the loft. Just humming and building, like an industrious little worker bee. Lighthaus is currently in a state of Couchfort. The entire living room and part of the hall have been claimed for soft, safe, bouncy! pillowy-ness. Micah is working to shore up one wall of sheets, adding some clothespins to hold it in place. Micah has been /joined/ in his fortbuilding, by the time the apartment door opens. Spencer is happily dragging a sheet between a mattress and the back of the couch, creating a tunnel perfect for /crawling/ through. The opening door does not really /admit/ a pair of twins; Shane just stops in the doorway, /eying/ the inside of the apartment. "-- fuck happened in here?" He's dressed like there's going to be a party! Neat grey trousers, neat grey vest, dress shirt with sleeves cuffed and buttoned in place above his elbows. Behind him, Sebastian is peeking over his shoulder. "A fort is what happened here. Oh man. Can we go in?" Peek. He's /also/ dressed like a party, albeit much differently than his brother, a cheerful pink-and-yellow sundress halter-tied at his neck. "Why is there a --" "Why /wouldn't/ there be a fort?" Sebastian doesn't let that question even finish. Jackson is finishing /up/ the last of his cooking -- or, really, what would be the last of his cooking if he were any sane person; there's food enough already to feed plenty and he's opening the oven to poke a slim long wire into the center of one of the two trays of cupcakes inside; there's /already/ a pie cooling on the counter. "Oh!" He glances up when the twins arrive. "There's um -- you're early, they're -- we don't need an apartment anymore, looks like." He gives the twins a smile, quick and small. Micah peers around a mattress at the sound of the door opening. His speech is a little muffled by a clothespin held between his lips. “Oh, hi Shane! Hi, 'Bastian! We...needed a couch fort. There's been stress an' sad an' world-awfulness creepin' in a little bit too much lately. So. /Epic/ couch fort. Can't help but feel safe an' cheerful!” He finally pulls the clothespin out of his mouth. “Yes, y'can come in! An' y'can help buildin' if y'want. Though...we're pretty much out of room t'expand into.” His brow furrows slightly as he surveys the room, which is throughly taken over by fabric. "Wait, why is awfulness creeping in /here/?" Shane furrows his brow, first at the fort and then at Micah and then at Jax. "That's not allowed, this is pretty much --" "-- the best place. Least awful place." Sebastian slips in around Shane, peeking into the tunnel for a moment. "Well, we're /making/ it the best place," Spencer agrees from under the sheets, when Bastian peeks inside. "You could expand it. Out to --" "Our place," Shane chimes in, "Ryan's place. It's not like you're /really/," "out of room. I mean there's lots of us. Plenty of room." Sebastian heads back to the door, propping it open. "-- But what awfulness. /Why/ awfulness." Shane isn't helping with couchfort. He's sneaking over to Micah to wrap his arms around the older man tight. "Oh, it ain't awful in /here/." Jackson's voice is quiet, his smile warm as ever; around him, the air shimmers faintly with a brief glow that soon vanishes. "In here it's just --" His hands are glowing, too, bright hot as he pulls the cupcakes out of the oven. "Pillows all the way down. Y'know, if y'spread out into the hallway that's not really --" He hesitates as he sets the trays down on the stove, quiets for a moment. "Actually, y'know, I bet alla them across the hall wouldn't care at all. Liam'd prob'ly help you out." “Oh...just, the same ol' /world/ stuff. Nothin' t'worry extra over,” Micah supplies in answer to Shane, returning his tight-hug. A huge grin blooms across his features at Spencer's assertion. “See? I knew he was a bright kid.” His eyes widen with /plans/ as Shane and 'Bastian recommend expanding into other apartments. “You, too! All bright kids. We could build a /tunnel/ t'your place! Sheet tunnel. Line the floor with mattress. Just /bounce/ from one place to the other.” He claps Shane on the back with this pronouncement. “We should totally do this. Two couches are way better than one!” "Uh-/huh/. You're building a giant couchfort and Pa /isn't/ helping." Shane slips over to Jax, next, but stops short of actually delivering a hug when he sees the glowing hands and the cupcake tray. "That's not --" "-- C'/mon/." Sebastian is already climbing up the ladder to the loft to claim another of the spare mattresses that reside up there when the house is not playing refugee camp. "Like you /need/ an excuse to have a couchfort." "Fine." Shane narrows his eyes on Jax, sneaking in a /quick/ careful one-armed hug once the cupcakes have been set down and then skirting carefully through the livingroom fort. "We can build a /distraction/ fort if it helps." Sebastian sighs. But starts to shove a mattress towards the ladder, tipping it over the edge towards Shane. "There's like two couches in Ryan's place I think. We got this." Jackson is exceedingly hot to the touch, painfully so though at least the hug does not /linger/ and the heat is concentrated mostly in his hands. "I'll be helpin'!" he promises, as he transfers the cupcakes to cooling racks. "I gotta let these cool 'fore I can ice 'em, anyway." He bites down on one lip ring, glancing over the food he's prepared. "Though I still need to --" He hesitates, skirting around the counter. "Can we hang sheets from the ceilin'? Upside-down tunnel?" "He's just busy cookin' /everythin'/ for Ryan's birthday," Micah explains as Shane notes Jax's absence from the construction crew. "An' it's not a /distraction/ fort. It's an /awesome/ fort. Ooo, two couches! If y'set those up across from each other, that's a good start! I s'pose. We could make another tunnel across the hall, provided we left an aisle for people t'cross through as need t'get down the hall." Jax's recommendation sees Micah's smile broadening again. "We can absolutely hang things from the ceilin'! Might need t'get some tacks for that, but /totally/ viable! Ceilin'-to-floor tunnels are definitely needed in the hallways." He stops in his tracks for a moment, folding his arms across his chest and just /falling/ backward onto a pile of couch cushions with a giggle. "Okay, okay. That was just required. I'm gonna help get the other mattresses into the hall now," he promises as he rolls himself back up to his feet. "It can be both. Awesome /and/ a distraction. /You're/ trying to distract." But despite apparently aiming for /buzzkill/ today, Shane lifts his arms to catch the mattress, guiding it down to the floor. "People can cross /through/ the tunnels!" Spencer is emerging from his own tunnel to totally help Shane with the mattress (because obviously there's no way the sharkboy can handle it on his own.) "And Horus can fly through the ceiling." "Well. Not /through/ the ceiling," Sebastian watches the mattress-shifting, and watches Micah's toppling. He flashes a bright smile down at the others and then drags a pillow over. Tosses it down, too. This time he isn't waiting for anyone to catch it. Just aiming it in the general direction of Micah as he stands. "Yeah, thought he might like some tunnels'a his own." Jax can't help a giggle at the hurled pillow, and he goes to raid the linen cabinet for more spare sheets. "Can rustle up some thumbtacks. -- Can y'have a birthday party in a -- wait, what am I saying, of /course/ we can have a birthday party in a couch fort. Um. We'll -- need t'decorate it. Oh! Tag could help with that. An' S'probably plenty'a Christmas lights sitting around." "S'less likely t'get grouchy neighbours reportin' us t'the super for obstructin' the hallways if we don't obstruct the /whole/ hallway," Micah clarifies to cool Spencer's enthusiasm for dragging other building members into the fort-crawling. "But we'll have /so much/ couchfort, we won't even notice a little People Crossin' section in /one/ spot in the middle of the hall--gah!" He takes a pillow to the chest before wrapping his arms around it like a toddler clutching a teddy bear. That pillow's not getting away! "That's the spirit! Party fort!" He heads for the kitchen, aiming for a particular junk drawer that is likely to contain thumbtacks. There is an unnecessary twirl in place when he reaches the drawer, before he pulls it open and begins rummaging. "But if there's a people crossing section how will we get the couchfort all the way from here to Liam's house?" Spencer is diligently helping Shane guide the mattress out towards the third floor hallway, critically examining the space between their apartment and Ryan's. "Micah's just talking nonsense," Shane explains to Spencer patiently. "He does that sometimes. Obviously there's no room for anything but couchfort." Sebastian huffs out a small laugh, easing the next mattress down over the ladder and lying down flat to lower it as close to the ground as he can get before he lets it slide the rest of the way with a /whumph/. "Do we have grouchy neighbors? Hive's all the way upstairs. Actually /he's/ got some grouchy neighbors, do you know their neighbor down the hall /actually/ complained about --" He glances to Spencer, and then falls quiet. Shane just smirks. "Dusk," is all he finishes. "Being too popular." "Pretty sure there's no room 'round here for much else /but/ talkin' nonsense." Jackson doesn't follow the others towards the hall, just yet. He lingers in the living room, watching them with a half-smile on his face and the sheets clutched in his hand. "Think every floor's got a resident grump. But ours lives closer t'the elevator. Think we can bribe the rest'a the neighbors with pie?" "It's true, I have been known t'spout the nonsense from time t'time," Micah admits with a playful grin. "But in this case, I actually have a /sensible/ plan. The couchfort will extend across the hall on the /ceilin'/, because we'll hang sheets all the way across. But we can pin the bottom corners back like tent flaps, and just leave a little foot path with no cushions over the open spot." The redhead can't help but snicker like a teenager at the neighbour's reported complaint. "All the way down the hall, huh? Impressive." One of his eyebrows arches with /impressed-ness/. But then he is distracted by locating the box of thumbtacks, which he snags before heading toward the hall. "Pie is never a bad plan!" he calls back to Jax before ducking outside with the boys.