ArchivedLogs:Distracting Vegetables

Distracting Vegetables
Dramatis Personae Flicker, Melinda, Tola	2014-10-18 '
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Treehaus - Lower East Side
A spiral of sturdy slatted wooden stairs winds up the trunk of an enormous oak, leading the way up to this treehouse positioned between a pair of trees at one side of the Commons yard, abutting the river. It's clear enough upon ascending that this is no ordinary treehouse, built sturdy-strong and with a polished finish that would rival most /regular/ residences. Spanning the distance between the pair of oaks, the treehouse is a long one-story building, equipped with both plumbing and electricity. The stairs lead up onto a wraparound balcony that projects out at one side to overlook the East River rushing by below. The doorway inside leads to a furnished sitting room, long low futon-couches on the pale wood floors, walls painted in leafy shades of green, exposed-beam ceilings that seem to have worked some of the actual branches of the tree into the curvature of the roof. The front room is bright and airy, large windows looking out on the Commons grounds and the river outside. Recessed lanterns in the wall give the room a warm glow, come nighttimes, and in the center of the room amid a stone-tiled patch of flooring there is a squat glass-encased gas fireplace providing warmth in winter. Off to one side of the room there is an elevated loft up nearer the ceiling, accessible by ladder and furnished with pillows and plush futon mattress and lots of blankets. The adjoining room is decorated in watery river-blues instead of leaf-greens; in here there's a small kitchenette to one side with sink and stove and toaster oven and counter space, cabinets on the walls. A long dining table in this room seats eight; by the windows, plenty of cushioning sits in the wide window-seats. Off in the very back, a tiny half-bathroom holds a sink and toilet. No stove in here; the wintertime tends to find this room much chillier, but there's generally plenty of warm blankets lying around the house. As the sun just begins to disappear from the sky, casting shadows and long fingers of light in amongst the city buildings, highlighting the tip of every churning wave on the East River, Melinda makes her way up the stairs, carting with her way too much stuff. She's got a blanket balled up under one arm, a bag of supplies resting on one shoulder, while on her other side, she's hung a picnic basket in the crook of one arm. She's dressed in a baggy but light weight sweater, knitted from a mottled yarn of blue, green and purple, over an intentionally crinkled skirt that swishes around her ankles. In her arms, she has her daughter, a perky, green skinned child, peeking around the world from over her mother's shoulders. White petals cover her head, with what looks like little slivers of the same composing her eyebrows. She's wearing a pink sweater that boldly exclaims 'i <3 my gramma.' Green and white striped pants cover her lower half, stocking feet kicking around impatiently, ready to be set down to explore the balcony that faces the river. The door to the treehaus stands ajar, indicating either forgetfulness or the potential presence of another person already up here. In this case it's the latter, the raised futon occupied by one sleepy-eyed teleporter, a laptop, and a small stack of textbooks and notebooks. Flicker is dressed like today has been a lazy Saturday -- baggy Columbia sweatshirt, fluffy green-and-grey striped socks, faded old jeans. The sound of footsteps on the stairs outside brings his face to a window, peering out at the balcony. "Woah. I'd offer a hand but you're already up here. Do you need a --" He considers Mel's armload for a slow moment before his mouth curls into a crooked smile. "-- help eating your food?" Because he'll be all over that. Mel looks up when she hears a voice, turning on her left foot to spot the source. A warm smile pulls at her lips when she recognizes Flicker's voice first, then his face. She shrugs a little when he mentions offering a hand, but shakes her head in amusement when he mentions food. "Lucky for you, I have plenty. You want to help me spread out a blanket first, I feel picnicky." She shuffles clear of her chosen balcony spot and starts to drop the diaper/toy bag and settle the picnic basket on the ground, before releasing her remaining elbow. The blanket swan dives down to the ground in an undignified flop. "We're not interrupting any important studying, are we? We could go elsewhere. I just... want to be outside while we still can comfortably." "Midterms are done." Flicker's head shakes, then vanishes from the window. He reappears a moment later on the outside of the wall, briefly in midair before he sets down on the balcony, dropping to a crouch so that he can go about helping straighten out the blanket. "It's just homework. It's a good distraction." His smile widens when he looks up to Tola. "You're a good distraction. -- Cold again. Just tomorrow. Then rainy half the week." He says this in a small grumble. "You sound just like Jax," Mel shakes her head, performing a half squat, twist, one handed blanket straightening maneuver that should not be tried by amateurs. Once the protective layer is settled, she turns to lower herself to her knees, then surrenders the babe to the fluffy surface. "This one loves the rain. She would like to be planted out in a downpour, face up toward the heavens, welcoming it." She rubs at her daughter's chubby little cheek as she speaks, the words coming out in a slightly higher pitch with more joy than she'd use with another, perhaps older person. "Well, settle in. We'll distract you with grilled sweet potato and cabbage slaw." Once the rolly poly one is settled on her bum (Look! Sitting by herself! Yay!), Mel starts unpacking the basket, pulling out a steaming tupperware of hot sweet potatoes and a cooler mix of slaw. Flicker's mouth twitches, just at the corner. "Jax doesn't have homework," he answers Mel lightly. "Could we plant her?" He settles down on a corner of the blanket, hand reaching out to tickle Tola briefly in the tummy. "Oh man. So better than homework." The grilled sweet potatoes are getting /eyed/ with interest. "Your weekend going alright?" "No, no, Jax gives homework now and probably does his grading at home like homework." Tola giggles and flails her arms downward to thump against Flicker's hand. Concentration takes over a moment later as plump little digits try to work around the idea and then execute the action, her hands gripping his hand, her fingers trying to gain purchase on his fingers. Mel watches for a moment, then brings out pita bread and a bag that smells as if the contents have been deep fried. "Weekend is just getting started for me. Good start, I guess. Got some tempura fried sesame seeds from a market. I figured I'd put all of this into a sandwich, if you're interested." "So interested." Flicker's finger crooks in Tola's grip, slow so as not to dislodge her hands. He wiggles his hand up and down, watching her fingers against his. "Been a shortage of -- actually eating. Around my house. This week." His brows pull downwards, in towards each other. "Really need to find people who stress-eat, instead. Everything in my fridge is spoiling." Tola stares at that hand, a little surprised when it starts moving. Her gaze shifts quickly to stare back at Flicker, head tilting to one side before she starts babbling. The tone of the babbling, as nothing useful can be made out of the gibberish she is uttering, sounds very much like earnest communication, her attention fixating on his hand again. Melinda picks out a small knife and slices the top of the pita open, then assembles the sandwich with the same utensil and her fingers. Sweet potato chunks get a sprinkling of the fried sesame seeds, then cool slaw is added, the sauce dripping down onto the vegetables below. She puts it on a plate and starts on the next. "Ah. Stress eaters. Hm. I don't know if I know any of those, but I'll see if Hanna and Jayna are interested. Ash hasn't been cooking all that much lately - so maybe he'll be interested in your leftovers." She focuses on her work, especially when she's cutting, but her eyes flick in his direction from time to time. "How are you holding up?" Flicker pries his hand just slightly back from Tola's, turning it up and over in a signed, 'what?' "I'd foist things off on the twins but they're specific in their appetites." He lifts his eyes from Tola to Mel, his truncated shoulder hitching briefly. Shrug. "Won't know for a bit --" His head turns, look shifting over towards his own house. "... in either case, I guess. Doctors. Jury. Feels like everyone's waiting on a /sentence/." Melinda finishes combining her sandwich and rests it on a plate as she pulls out a grapefruit Izze and offers it to Flicker. "Yeah. Waiting." Her lips purse as she stares down at her sandwich. Eyes shift over to her daughter who is too disappointed at the fact that Flicker took his hand away to really comprehend the sign he shows her. She just makes grabby hands at him until he looks away. The babe then turns toward mom and makes grabby hands at the food. Melinda offers her a small bit of sweet potato after she is sure it is cool enough to eat. "I don't know what I'm waiting for. I just want Dusk to be home for good. Feels like we're going to be waiting a long time." "I feel like I'm always waiting for a storm," Flicker admits, reaching out to take the soda. He pins it between his knees so that he can unscrew the cap. "Or maybe I'm waiting for the dove to show up with the olive branch. Just something -- concrete?" "Doves, eh?" Melinda fishes another one out of the basket and twists off the top, sipping quietly. "See, if I saw something like that, I wouldn't believe it." She licks her lips to get some of the sweet juice, setting her drink down well out of the child's reach. "Apologies. I just - we should find something distracting to talk about. We're supposed to be distracting. Come on, Tola, we're letting him down." The little green child blinks at mom, then answers in gibberish. Mel turns the child's attention back to Flicker by picking up his plate to hand it to him. "Here. Have some distracting vegetables. Eat them while they're still hot." Flicker takes a big bite of the sandwich, keeping his Izze bottle between his knees. His eyes close in momentary relish. "I don't feel let down." He opens his eyes again, smile returning. "But if you want I can tell you about the awesome cosplays I saw last weekend at the con. When can we start dressing Tola up in amazing outfits?" "You can absolutely start dressing her up as soon as you like - It's entirely expected by the end of the month. I'll be disappointed if none of her family managed it by then, and may need to reevaluate my style of motherhood." Mel grins as she lifts her sandwich in salute. "So, tell us, what did you see and what can we miniaturize to dress Tola in?" She leans back on one arm as she eats, listening, and laughing for a good while that night.