ArchivedLogs:Crafting

Crafting
Dramatis Personae Sean, Micah	28 June 2014 Escaping the heat and making things.
Location <NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side
Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to plentiful artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse. New York city, home to millions of people, and a heat island surrounded by water. The humidity has made the rest of the city much like breathing under water in a hot bath tub, so those who prefer their air slightly more air like have hidden indoors rather than pretend to enjoy the summer. As a place of air conditioning and frozen beverages, Evolve is busy with all the patrons that are willing to cram into the mutant friendly facility. Taking up a small table with clay, shaping tools, and a pile of cups of frozen coffee, the hipsterly dressed artist is busy in his working fugue. People occasionally stop by to watch him work, and a few try and talk to him, but thus far his attention seems to be focused on the miniature version of the coffee shop he's sitting in. Micah has been inside, mostly, but he's been in /workshop/. This is often a sweaty proposition on the best of days, but there is still a lot of furniture to be finished! He looks the part in a pair of faded bluejeans with a smear of dark wood stain across one thigh, a plain robin's egg blue T-shirt with a bit of paint spatter on it, and a general /sawdustiness/ about him where the dust stuck to his damp skin. For the time being, his auburn hair is hidden under a newsboy cap, but it sticks out at spiky-damp angles even from under this. His wiltiness drags him to the counter, through the line, through paying and waiting for his order, to receive a blessedly /frozen/ chai. The cap comes off so that he can press this to his forehead before melting into a chair. Which happens to be at Sean's table, since he has a bunch of empty ones. "Hi." Tinywave. A hand moves out automatically to pick up a cup and as Sean takes a sip from the straw there is simply the sucking noise of empty cup full of ice. Blank glazed eyes look up to Micah a moment and his hand reaches towards the chai before he blinks into focus. "Oh, that's not my drink. Hello, Micah," he says with a smile as he tilts his head actually taking in the sawdusty fellow. His own clothing has small bits of clay stuck to it, not exactly detracting from the drapey flannel shirt over a tank top and skinny jeans in black. "Busy setting up the new place? Or just trying to be a lumberjack? I could let you borrow my flannel if you are." "Mmn. Apologies, no. I could get you a new one, but you're gonna have t'wait 'til I reach an acceptable surface temperature first." Micah finally manages to move the cool-condensation-coated cup away from his face so that he can take a pull through the straw. "Yeah, we been buildin' most of the furniture an' weekends are /prime/ 'work on something for hours uninterrupted' time. Even if the city's gone an' confused itself for an oven today." He shudders at the offer. "Nah. Jax's really the one who's more likely t'put on women's clothing and hang around in bars," he answers with a small giggle. It's quite the non sequitur for those who don't understand the reference, but it must be too hot for bothering with such concerns. "Flannel? In the summer? That's a bad plan." His eyes scan over the tools on the table. "How're things comin'?" "Oh it's okay. I'm sure I'll get another one soon enough. I should probably get up and move around and see to proper functions. What time is it?" Sean blinks a bit, fairly obvious he's still coming to. "Did you raid all of Ikea? I mean that many hours of assembly, your hands have gotta be wrecked from the allen wrench alone." He smiles pleasantly, and chuckles at the Monty Python reference. "More of a drunken philosopher then? Or prefer cheese or Norwegian blues?" Scratching at his head with a dry clay coated hand, there is a little snowing of flaking material. "Going alright. I almost have the counter done. I've been trying to evade the people details as they come up, I've had to kinda slice them out when I build em by accident." He gestures to the mini model, showing the counter down to the straw dispenser. "It /is/ good t'stretch your legs from time t'time. Forget t'do that when you're lost in work fair often. S'...two-ish." Pulling out a phone to get a more precise time, also too high on the effort scale for Micah right this minute. "Uh-uh, no Ikea. Bought some beanbags an' a couch an' mattresses, but not from there. Pretty much everythin' else is startin' from scratch. Well...home improvement store level scratch. Since we already determined I'm not a lumberjack. Norwegian blue /does/ have beautiful plumage, though." Siiip. Glorioius frozen drink. "S'gotta be hard t'keep up with, all the foot traffic in here." Wincing at the time, Sean is wiggling his feet underneath the table. "Okay, so been after it for most of the day thus far." Looking impressed at the from scratch, he nods approvingly. "Well done, well done. I just walked into the store and flopped on things to see what was most comfortable. I am pretty sure that unless I was severely cheating and making a replica, I couldn't put together anything that doesn't need an allen wrench for assembly." He shakes his head though at the foot traffic comment. "Nah, I'm fine on the foot traffic. I probably woulda been fine if I did it after hours, but when everything is away it feels fake. I just started it in the morning right with opening. So only a little foot traffic, and no emergencies have cropped up to make me pull out and have to restart yet." "I'd /hope/ so with the number of empty caffeine cups y'have here. If you'd only been here two-three hours, I'd be /concerned/." Micah cradles his cup in both hands, still trying to absorb the cool. "You'd do better t'get a power drill or bit driver with a set of bits that has hex an' square ones in 'stead of usin' the allen wrenches. Goes faster, spares your hands dealin' with the ridiculous little things they provide." He nods at the continuing furniture talk. "We got Spence's room done 'fore we moved in. Dinin' table after that, an' I made some extra-fancy chairs for Jax's birthday. Been workin' on the livin' room since, should be done with that soon an' can get to our room, finally. S'gonna be a long project for a /bit/ yet." "I think some of the cups are missing if it makes you feel better?" Sean grins and continues his still sitting stretching out. "Huh, never thought about the drill bit thing. Probably a good idea, though I hope to never have to assemble furniture again. I think I'll stick to decorating them." He smiles a little at that, and seems pleased at the talk of what is already assembled. "I'll have to come by and visit some time when you've got it all settled. How many more rooms to go? Or is it more furniture to go than rooms to go?" "That means /more/ cups. Don't think that's a mark in the positive column," Micah says through chuckles, his energy coming back now that's he's not so overheated. "Definitely more furniture than rooms, since each room needs things. Mostly did built-in shelves 'fore we moved in, so at least I don't gotta make a bunch of bookshelves an' such. But the bedroom's literally a mattress on the floor an' the built-ins for now. Still need dressers an' end tables an' a desk. Guest room's much the same. If Jax needs more'n the built-ins for his studio space, then whatever he decides on in there. Might be we should have y'visit /before/ things're finished or y'could have a bit of a /wait/. Kitchen an' dinin' room are all set, which is really the important part for havin' guests, after all." "Hrmm. I think it's pretty positive at least," Sean chuckles and pokes the remaining cups with his clay shaper, drawing a smiley in the condensation. "Yeah, doing everything from scratch is definitely going to take awhile. At least you seem to have a pretty good handle on the carpentry part. I know the general concepts of carpentry, but I really don't remember how to use a coping saw anymore." Making a face, he nods at the importance of kitchen and dining rooms. "True, guests require feeding at least. One of these days I ought to actually see about cooking something in my place. I think I would give Angela a heart attack if I asked for ingredients instead of take out." Micah just giggles and shakes his head at the cup poking. “I do a lotta buildin' stuff. Though there's less woodworkin' t'my job than there once was. S'a lot more plastic an' carbon fibre these days. There's somethin' /satisfyin'/ t'buildin' with wood that y'don't quite get from modern materials, though.” He brings the straw to his lips for another sip, though this is aborted, eyes widening at Sean's revelation. “Oh, /hon/. Y'ain't really moved into a new place 'til you've cooked your first real meal in it. S'an unwritten /rule/. Pretty sure.” Nodding, Sean replies, "Oh I prefer the traditional materials, too. But chiseling marble just takes way too long unless its something really important. Wood really depends on the particular Type of wood, since so much depends on the grain of it and an entire piece could be ruined by an unexpected knot, or a sudden crack in it. But like the prettiest stuff you have to worry so much about ethical harvesting." Letting out a sigh, he plbbts a bit at the bother of it all. "Does putting a bunch of random fruit in a bowl count? Fruit salad totally counts as cooking right?" He grins full well knowing it doesn't. "Clay counts as traditional materials, don't it? Comes right out the ground, more or less." A nod of Micah's head toward the table accompanies this observation. "Depends what you're makin', too. Real wood furniture usually just gets /added/ to by a change in the grain or a knot here or there, I think. Gives it personality." Yet more laughter answers the fruit salad image. "Oh, gracious. If y'got the pots an' knives an' all, we may have t'get somebody t'cook in your kitchen /for/ you at that rate." "Well yeah, I just meant I prefer that to weird polymers and plastics. They tend to smell funny." Sean rolls up a tiny bit of scrap clay and flicks it at Micah. "The small grains and knots can screw up a sculpture if you were planning a perfect match. I mean if someone suddenly has a huge gaping hole in their forehead, people tend to notice." Nodding seriously, he sticks his tongue out at the laughter. "Cooking just isn't a priority. I mean I can have food brought to me just as easily, and then I don't have to worry about figuring out what ingredients actually mix with the tofu to make a tasty curry. I'd probably end up following the recipe and end up with it looking like mush." "Mmhm, the plastic smell can be a bit much sometimes. Even with all the proper ventilation." The crinkle of Micah's nose attests to entirely too much /experience/ with heated thermoplastics. "Hee, yeah, I guess that /would/ be a problem. I ain't really used wood for sculptures so much, guess y'could tell." This time he does get that additional swallow of chai. "S'pose it ain't for everyone, just like anythin' else. S'right /useful/, though." "Smells almost as bad as some markers and glues. I think half of art school is just exposure to chemicals to toughen us up." Letting out a sigh at the empty cups in front of him he shakes his head. "I should get up, biobreak and get more coffees." He smirks at the useful factor. "Fine, I will make pancakes. Mind you I will get premade mix that I can just add oil to and then I don't have to worry about doom." Standing, he stretches out a bit cracking his shoulders. "Soaking up atmosphere is hard." “Oh/gosh/, yeah. Thermoplastics an' glue at the same time's the /worst/.” Micah smiles, seeming pleased at this plan. “Pancakes count, even if they're from a mix. It's still batter...an' cookin'. Or a close enough approximation thereof.” A nod answers Sean's announcement. “Good idea. I'll watch your table an' tools an' all for you while you're off dealin' with that whole 'biological systems' thing.” "It sounds so much classier when it's said that way." Sean giggles slightly and shakes his head. "Thanks for watching it over. It shouldn't take too long, and then you can get back to playing with wood," he says with a smirk. "Maybe you should get a portable air conditioner, set it up in the room you're working in at least." Giving a little finger waggle he scoots off towards the bathroom to handle those biological matters.