ArchivedLogs:Dad Aggro. Or. Not.

Dad Aggro. Or. Not.
Dramatis Personae Eric, Jackson, Sebastian, Shane, Shelby	2013-02-17 Jax returns home after the orgy.
Location <NYC> 303 {Holland} - 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 bright coloured sealife has made its way into being painted on the 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. It's not quite morning by the time Jackson gets home. Well, it's /a.m./ at least, but the sun is still making up its mind about rising. He looks tired, after a night at the club, his makeup dropping away once he's inside to leave his face just kind of pale. He pulls off his sunglasses, tucking them to hang from the wallet chain at his hip. The extra shoes at the door give him pause. He is quiet as he slips into the living room. One teenager on the couch, check. Quiet as he nudges Spencer's door open just a crack. One small child in his bed, check. Quiet, too, as he nudges the twins' door open. Two teenagers in the -- Oh, dear. Colour manages to drain further from his already kind of washed-out expression. Around him the air /flickers/, shadowy-dark first and then reddish. His fingers curl into a tight grip on the door handle. He breathes in deep. It's almost visible, the slow mental counting, or would be if anyone else were awake. Ten. Night. Eight. Seven. His knuckles scrub hard against what was once an eye. Six. Five. By four he is slumping, exhausted, his head /thudding/ forward against the doorframe and his eye squeeeeeeezing shut. The noise he makes is quiet and strangled. It sounds a little like despair. Sebastian stirs, at the noises, mumbling soft in his sleep and nestling closer to Shelby. ... And Eric. By extension. His nostrils flare, though twitching. Sniffing. His next mumble sounds more like, "Pa?" Perhaps not the best thing to say while cuddling with a girl but. There it is. Fortunately the girl is right out of it and doesn't take offense. She mumbles something, herself, but it sounds more like a sound of contentment--made just before she pats down in search of the blankets and /steals/ them from the other two males in bed, leaving her and Sebastian buried under fluffy coverings. Shane stirs, too. No mumbling, just a quiet burrowing further in against Eric. His hand slides up over Eric's chest, his fingers curling in to -- press claws into the other man's skin. /Probably/ not for the first time this night. He's been a poky cuddler. The claws are followed by another smoothing of hand over chest, a gentle nuzzling in against Eric's shoulder. And then he is /groping/. Not Eric, or at least only incidentally Eric. Shelby. Whoever. He's reaching for covers. Patpat grab. It's a pretty halfhearted grab, he eventually just contents himself with snuggling up closer against Eric for warmth instead. Eric lets out not the first hiss as the claws, once more, cause red trails of blood to very briefly drip down his side. His eyes open, either from the sound, the shifting of the bed, or the claws in him. He blinks several times, looking up at the ceiling. He glances down at Shane and rolls his eyes, once. When he looks the other direction to check on Shelby and Sebastian, he catches sight of Jax. He winces and, freeing a hand from underneath the covers, holds up one finger to delay the other man's inevitable rage. Then he sets about very slowly extracting himself from the cuddlepile, transferring Shane to Shelby for warmth and awkwardly sliding off the bed, feet-first. "What." Jackson's tone is flat. It's far too tired to reach anger, despite the red glow around him. "Is this. /All/ the kids?" He might possibly sound just as much bewildered as despairing. His knuckles scrubs at his eye again. "I'm never leaving the house again," he groans. Sebastian has been happily nestled up against the others, but at the sound of Jax's voice his eyes snap open, his body tensing. He gets to his feet in more of a /scramble/, leaving Shelby with an enormous pile of covers as he hastily smooths his clothes down and looks at Jax, wide-eyed and guilty. "I didn't -- we didn't -- I swear there was no sex or anything," he blurts out quickly. "I mean there was some ecstasy and then we all got into bed with the cop but -- not -- nobody -- oh gosh. Do you need coffee I think you need coffee I'll make breakfast okay?" Mumbling and quiet talk wasn't going to disturb Shelby but scrambling does. A week in school isn't enough to soften certain street-honed reflexes and when Sebastian goes flailing away, she sits bolt upright with a little cry. "What! What, is it cops? Is it...oh my god." She presses a hand to her eyes. "Oh god. What time is it? What's..." When the blanket falls down, it's apparent /she/ is at least fully dressed. In, uh. One of Jax's tops. And skirts. "I'm thirsty. Water?" "Hot cops," Shane mumbles an answer to this, a little croaky. He does not sit up. Or even get up. He has nestled closer to Shelby in Eric's absence but when she sits up he reaches for Eric's wrist to pull the man back down, grumbling. "Too early for breakfast. Hi, Pa." He says all this without opening his eyes. Or making any attempt to leave bed. He's only in boxers, but at least that's /some/ clothes, right? Eric gently reaches over and covers Sebastian's mouth to stop his panicked talking. "Ssh. Breathe." he instructs, a brief smile flitting onto his face. He sits back down on the edge of the bed briefly afterwards at Shane's insistent tugging. "I found two of them at Evolve, high on Ecstasy, and brought them home before they could get into some real trouble. Unsurprisingly, they were quite insistent on a cuddle-pile." "You found them --" Jackson starts to repeat this, but then doesn't, his face just -- crumpling. He draws in a slow breath, turning aside, his face hidden against the doorframe. "Ok. Um. You didn't --" He swallows, hard, and the red around him is kind of melting back into something shadowy. "Go back to sleep, Bastian. It's too early for breakfast." His voice is tight as he says this. He turns aside quickly, heading into the kitchen. There's a rattle of glasses. The opening of the fridge. A splashing sound of water being poured. Sebastian looks worried, when Jackson's face falls. His initial answer is, well, muffled by Eric's hand clamped against his mouth. He just sits back down on the bed, too, heavily beside the cop. His eyes are wide. Eventually he tugs Eric's hand away from his mouth. "Oh my gosh I think we /broke him/." "Nngh." This is Shelby's summing up of /Eric's/ summing up. Or maybe she was agreeing with him. She transfers her hand from eyes to jaw and rubs gingerly. Passing on that ice was a bad idea. "I think someone punched me," the girl complains before she shifts forward to drape her arms over Bastian's shoulder from behind. Her head comes to rest against his ear. "...broke who? Mm. You're warm. What time is it?" The whole Dad In The Doorway experience was completely missed. "Early." Shane is doing similar with Eric that Shelby is with Sebastian, draping himself against the older man from behind. His chin rests on Eric's shoulder, his arms sliding around the man's chest in a hug. "Mngh." His eyes close, but only for a moment. "-- Do you really think we broke him?" he asks, and even if his tone is skeptical his expression is distinctly worried. Almost guilty. Almost. "Pa came home," he informs Shelby. Still croakily. Eric turns to gently kiss the side of Shane's head, then taps at Shane's hands with his and gently extracts himself from the hug. He doesn't respond to the theorization, but instead, says, "I'll bring you some water. And some ice." With that, he slips out of the room and closes the door behind him. He then makes a beeline for the kitchen, standing in the doorway and watching Jackson. "No, I didn't." he says, softly, looking over the other man. Jackson is in the kitchen. Already filling two glasses of water from a filtered pitcher. Then refilling the pitcher. And kind of watching it drip from the filter down into the basin. He might be stalling. His back is to the bedroom door, and he's scrubbing hard at one eye before replacing his sunglasses. The shadowy murk around him has lightened to a somewhat sickly yellow-green. He turns, eventually, both glasses in hand, but just stops when confronted with an Eric in the doorway. "Okay," he says, a little dully. And then a beat of silence. And then, "Are they okay?" Sebastian's head rests lightly against Shelby's, though he squeezes his eyes shut as she speaks. "I don't know. Still early if he just got home. I -- Shane --" But he trails off, just hanging his head. "I think he's upset." Though despite the phrasing he aaactually sounds fairly confident of this obvious fact. "Oh. Are you guys in trouble?" Shelby does not include herself in that category because it isn't /her/ dad. "Is he going to hurt Eric again? I knew we should've gone to his place." She's forgotten the lack of said place. With water and ice promised, she nuzzles her face into the space between Bastian's neck and shoulder--unaware of how fortunate she is that he put on a shirt before coming to bed. She may or may not drift off again, at that point, letting Bastian hold her up. "I don't know," Shane says, sounding more glum as he watches Eric leave. He flops back down onto the bed, wincing and working his jaw slowly. "I mean, no, it's not really -- like that. Well, maybe. I mean. I think he's just sad." He looks towards the door like he is considering heading out. But he just lies there, frowning deeply at the ceiling. "They're OK, Jackson." Eric says, looking over the other man. "No harm done. Sebastian was very intent on protecting Shane from me, actually. Despite my insistence that it wasn't what I was here for." he gives a faint smile, and a glance to the couch. "I'd be more worried about the fact that you have someone rapidly moving towards the FBI's Most Wanted list on your couch." he says, jerking his head in that direction. He stands aside to let Jax pass with the water and slips into the kitchen himself to retrieve some ice for Shelby. "What /were/ you here for?" Jackson asks, still sounding tired. He slips past Eric, but turns around to look at the man a long moment, expression mostly hidden by the large sunglasses. "I just --" He doesn't finish this. He swallows, head drooping downward for a moment, and then frowns over towards the couch. "I what?" Sebastian's gills flare, for a moment, a prelude to actually remembering which respiratory system he needs to engage in order to sigh. Dramatically. He carefully moves downward, settling Shelby back on the bed but then getting up from it himself. "I'm going to make breakfast," he says, squeezing Shane's shoulder lightly. "You guys should sleep more." Sleepy Shelby is at first amenable to being moved. She eases backwards and then turns to partially blanket Shane with arm and leg. It takes a minute longer for her to realize the bed isn't /nearly/ as full now as it was. That's when one bleary sea-green eye cracks open again. "...wait, breakfast? I was gonna get water." Shane is given a pat before she struggles back up to a seated position, feet swinging towards the floor. "And I gotta pee." Ever classy, that's her. Shane doesn't follow after any of this. He's happy to curl back in against Shelby with the extra cuddling, but when she gets up he just pulls the blankets up over his head. With a gruff, "Pa got water." This makes him frown deeper for some reason. For a moment, at least, and then he closes his eyes, pulling the blankets over his head to shut out the /world/. "Make sure they got home safe." Eric says, taking a few ice cubes in one hand and tossing it into the bowl that still sits on the counter, now full with a small pool of water. He takes this bowl back and follows Jax, back towards the bedroom door. "The kid sitting on your couch, in the Spider costume. He's wanted by the FBI in connection with an act of domestic terrorism." he says, voice low so as not to wake the aforementioned ultraterrorist. "What? He's just a kid. Domestic terrorism? But he's so --" Jackson blinks over towards the couch, speaking quietly, as well. "Um. Earnest. He just came by because he was helping me out..." He lifts a hand, water glass held in it, to rub his knuckles against his cheek. And then he's heading to the bedroom, too, so that he can slip back in and offer the water glasses to Shelby and -- well. Shane has turned into a lump of mattress. He puts the second glass on the nightstand. Sebastian studies Jackson's face very carefully when Jax returns to the bedroom. "I'm sorry," he squeaks, as the water is dispensed. "I swear it wasn't as bad as it looked." His head is hanging as he slips /out/ of the bedroom, heading to the kitchen to start cooking some breakfasts. So Jax is! Shelby is squinting down at her feet as if trying to remember how to walk when the water glass cuts into her frame of vision. She takes it gratefully. "Thank fuck," she breathes. Or Dads. A large gulp is taken, another breath, a longer swallow and then she subsides with one part gasp, one part sigh. "Oh god, that's so much better...thanks Jax. We..." She blinks at Sebastian's exit, looks back at the Shane-lump, then says, "We didn't do anything. I mean, /they/ didn't." A pause. "It was, um, my E." Shane doesn't move. He's still just a Shanelump. It's a Shanelump that grunts when there is /talking/, but then nothing more. Maybe he's gone back to sleep. Probably he's hiding. "I don't think he did it. I think he got caught up in something way bigger than him." Eric says, softly. "But running from the police is not going to solve his problems. It's only going to make it worse." he proffers the bowl of ice to Shelby, taking a single ice cube out of it, then slips into the room. "Shane. I have an ice cube for you." he says, sitting down on the edge of the bed to tempt the lump of blanket. "Oh, gosh." Jackson's tone is dismayed, at this explanation. "Yeah, he did, and I -- oh gosh." His fingers press up beneath his sunglasses, his face scrunching up for a moment. "It's okay," he says to Shelby, tired, and then, "I mean, no, it's -- /not/, it's just -- I just -- worry. There's a lot of terrible going on out there and I don't want --" He swallows, dropping a hand heavily to rest on the lump-o-Shane. Squeezing once. Then backing off towards the doorway. "Y'all /should/ go back to sleep. It ain't even six yet." Talk of ultraterrorists goes right over Shelby's shaggy little head. She has water. She has ice. She is not being yelled at. Thus, all is well with the world and she is inclined to take the advice everyone has been handing out. That is, go back to sleep. After popping an ice cube in her mouth, she sets bowl and glass on the side table before crawling under the covers again. Shanelump is joined by a Shelbylump as she cuddles in close for warmth. There is the sound of yawning. "...before six is /bullshit/," she mumbles. "Mmmrf." Shane extends a hand out from beneath the blanket to take the ice cube. He shoves it into his mouth. Then snuggles up next to Shelby, grunting something that is probably agreement. And going back to /sleep/. Eric smiles as the ice cube vanishes, and he turns back towards the door. He follows Jax out of the room, closing it behind him. "If you get the chance to talk to him, let him know that it's in his best interests to surrender for questioning. To the NYPD, not the Feds." He gives a small smile to Jackson. "I'll get out of your hair. Have a good morning, Jackson." he says, starting to head for his jacket hanging up next to the door. "Yeah. I --" There's a moment when it seems like Jax might say something more to Eric. He looks at the man a long while. But in the end he swallows, nods, scuffs his fingers through his hair, and disappears away to his own bedroom.