ArchivedLogs:Dreamgirl

From X-Men: rEvolution
Dreamgirl
Dramatis Personae

Micah, Maya, Dusk, Hive

5 February 2014


Confirming suspicions and enlisting aid! (Part of the Morpheus TP.) (The morning after a chance encounter.)

Location

<NYC> 403 {Geekhaus} - Village Lofts - East Village


There's kind of a college-dorm feel to this place, though some of its occupants have left college behind. Entering the apartment finds visitors greeted by the perpetually messy living room, a mismatched assortment of couches and chairs (and milk crates) surrounding the wide table in the center. The wall holds a range of posters; some political, some sporty, some from video games, and a string of white lights strung over the kitchen doorway might be a holdover from Christmas. A widescreen television stands against the wall opposite the couch, shelving beside it holding a host of video games from different consoles. More shelving beside the windows on the far wall carries stacks of board games, as well as sourcebooks from various RPGs.

The kitchen adjacent is just as cluttered, its table unfit for eating due to its perpetual covering of books, papers, cereal boxes, projects; the fridge is usually sparsely populated. Ketchup. Beer. Not a lot of food. There are two bedrooms here and one bathroom situated between them, split between the three people who live here.

It is already shaping up to be a long day for Micah, with an extra-early morning wake-up at Lucien's to drive back home and get himself ready for work and cook breakfast for Spencer. With Spencer now busy washing up and eating, he finds some spare moments to sneak over to Geekhaus for a quick check-in with Dusk...who is hopefully awake or awake enough to hear and retain a quick request. The redhead actually looks /tidy/ this early in the morning, hair recently washed and combed, TARDIS blue polo shirt and khakis not yet rumpled. He slides his key into the lock rather than knocking, fully expecting one or more of the apartment's occupants still to be asleep. As such, he opens the door quietly to let himself in, slipping around the door and pushing it to gently before aiming himself toward Dusk's room.

Micah's arrival is initially greeted by a tinyscampering of tinyfeet against the gaming table where Alanna has /been/ sleeping inside her squishy cloth octopushut. It takes only about half a second, though, for her to go from asleep to ON, little paws racing across the messy gaming table once she propels herself out of a tentacle. She tumbles off the edge of the table tripping over herself to dance across the /equally/ messy floor and pounce onto Micah's foot in eager greeting. /She/, at least, is always ready for playtime.

From inside Dusk's bedroom there's a snuffling. Larger paws lumbering up, a nose whuffling at the base of the door, a tail thumping eagerly against the floor. Whump, whump, whump.

There's /been/ someone in the shower -- Flicker, maybe? It's about time for him to be getting ready for morning-classes, but the shower is just shutting off as Micah approaches the apartment door.

The bathroom door is just /opening/ as he approaches Dusk's door, a dusky-skinned woman emerging with towel wrapped around herself and her hands pulling another turban-like around her hair as she hastens back towards Dusk's bedroom door. Or at least Maya /was/ wrapping the second towel around her hair -- she stops with a /squeak/ to drop the second towel to the floor, backstepping and almost dislodging the /first/ towel, too, catching it with one hand pressed to her chest to hold it in place. "/Micah/?"

Alanna just chews at the hem of Micah's pants. TUG.

Micah giggles at the arrival of Ferret, shaking his foot a little to give Alanna something to pounce on in lieu of any more appropriate toys. As she starts chewing on his pants leg he ducks down to scoop her up, planning to find something more entertaining for her to play with in Dusk's room while they talk. He is mid-ferret-scoop when the bathroom door opens, standing just in time to greet the arriving individual with arms full of excited-ferret. "Hey, Fli--" Blink. "You're not Flicker. Um. Maya? Hi. Are you actually here or did I accidentally fall back asleep when I got home?" It takes a moment for Micah's blush to catch up with him, registering the woman's state of undress.

Dusk's bedroom door opens, disgorging an equally eager Ratri into the living room. He looks a little sleepy-eyed, dressed in nothing more than bright-coloured wings folded capelike around himself though he's opening one of these in an offering of colourful-warm hug. "Mmm, you all --" He blinks in mild confusion when he sees /Micah/ at the door but -- doesn't actually rescind the offer of hug. His wing slips around Micah's shoulders, letting dog out, pulling Micah in. His fangs bare in wide yawn. "-- showered," finishes sleepily. "I can make coffee." His wing squeezes inward in a slow hug before sliding back to nestle against his back. "Why'd you be asleep? /I/ feel asleep." He nudges his door open wider so that Maya can get back inside, his room beyond its usual state of disarray.

Ratri is just as enthusiastic as Alanna, pressing her way past Dusk so she can lean up against Micah's legs. Maya's eyes are still wide as she holds the towel against herself, stoops to pick up the second and drape it back over her wet hair. "Ah -- " Her eyes dart from Micah to Dusk. "Sleep -- ing -- you aren't --" She shakes her head rapidly. "... I need coffee," she agrees, somewhat dazed. "Dusk, /what/." Her eyes scrunch shut. Open again. Scrunch shut again. "Am /I/ asleep?" /She/ does not sound entirely certain, either. "Micah what are you doing here?" Slowly, she inches her way back towards Dusk's bedroom, creep-creep-creeping behind the relative safe-shelter of one of his enormous wings. /Not/ the one that is around Micah.

Well, there is a very warm-soft wing around Micah's shoulders, and as such he snuggles into it out of sheer habit. Because that is what one does with snuggly wings. “Mornin', Dusk, I was comin' over t'ask you a question, but then I accidentally ran into Maya...um...here.” His blush deepens, across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. “Honey, you go ahead an' get dressed. Apologies. I didn't mean t'catch you up. I did...tell you I live in this buildin'? Dusk's a real...close friend.” He cradles the ferret up to his chest, then is suddenly being thudded into by a large dog. “Oh, hello, Ratri.” Alanna gets puddled up in one arm to spare a hand for scritching the dog's ears.

"What question? Ask away." It's a sleepy mumble, lulled sleepier by the fact someone is now snuggling into Dusk's wing. /Two/ somebodies; his other wing brushes up gently against Maya when she goes to hide behind it, a throaty-soft rumble of purring growl vibrating somewhere /under/ his words without them ever pausing. "-- Coffee, right. Lemme get that started." Dusk keeps his wing curled around Micah, steering him off towards the kitchen as he pulls his bedroom door closed behind them, not really bothering with clothing /himself/. Just folding a colourful wing around himself warmly, lifting an arm up to keep it free on the outside of his wing-cape.

In Micah's arms, Alanna is squirmy, climbing up the man like a jungle gym to start squirming her way -- into the neck of his shirt. Down inside his sleeve like a tunnel. Burrowburrowburrow.

"Right -- yes. Of course. I knew you -- and Jackson. And Obie. I knew you all lived -- here." Maya's cheeks are burning furiously. She clings tighter to her towel as Dusk moves away, shrinking back further into the bedroom. "Dressed, right, /yes/. Because work. Which I -- need to get to. I didn't -- /right/. This was -- poor planning, I think I -- /clothes/." Cheeks still /deeply/ reddened, she just heaves a sigh of immense relief when Dusk closes the bedroom door. There are quick sounds of /bustling/ coming from behind it. Ratri bustles, too! Off towards the kitchen with the others, tail still wagging happily. << -- ffff. >> THUD. Hive's mind comes slamming disgruntled-cranky into everyone else's. Sleepy-irritable. << Why are you all /here/. >>

Micah's blush continues to burn brightly until Maya ducks away into the bedroom, then just lingers in a slow fade once she is out of sight. The burrowing ferret doesn't seem to bother him, and he rather passively allows himself to be propelled into the kitchen. "Dusk, when'd y'go gettin'...psychic? 'Cause it's either that or this is the most serendipitous..." Micah pauses a moment, just shaking his head in disbelief. "I was comin' over here t'ask you t'help me find an unlisted phone number so I could contact the person we think's been makin' all the crazy-happy stuff-manifestin' dreams. On account of we found a common link between most of the folks as've had 'em. An' I knew she was a high school music teacher an' Luci found her on the internet...got her full name an' where she works. But I wanted t'get a phone number on account of lingerin' around outside of high schools waitin' for folks t'show up is real creepstery. But that," he gestures at the closed door, "is /her/."

Alanna wriggles her way down Micah's sleeve and then back out again, skittering madly down the front of his shirt to tumble-skid-fall down to the floor. Where she promptly attacks Ratri's overlarge paws instead, flopping over onto her back and batting at the dog with her tiny-tiny paws. "Psychic?" Dusk just looks baffled at this accusation. "What are you on about?" He yawns again as he starts to get things ready for coffee. Boil water. Grind beans. Get out the French press. "I just met her in a park last night and -- I mean, she's awesome. Didn't know you knew her. You know a lot of awesome people, though, so I -- huh?" Sleepy-brain takes a moment to catch up. What dreams?" His knuckles scrub against his eyes. "-- She's just." His smile curves brighter, fangy. "-- Really nice."

Ratri backs up, initially, at the little ferret's eager batting. Her large paw comes down hesitantly, gently pushing Alanna over. And over. And over. She noses at the ferret and then lies down, front paws reaching out to wrestle at the smaller animal with surprising care.

There's still just /bustling/ coming from the bedroom. Shuffleshuffle. Bustle. And from the other bedroom. << There better be enough -- >> "-- fucking coffee for me." Hive is in green and black plaid pajama pants when he emerges, a white undershirt, a grey Xavier's sweatshirt of Flicker's that hangs far too big on his bony frame. He shuffles towards the kitchen, stepping over the wrestling animals and tucking himself under one of Dusk's colourful wings with eyes still largely just closed. "Her? You've got to be fucking kidding me." << Cheerful motherfucker go fucking figure leave it to Dusk to fuck the girl of /everyone's dreams/. >>

"Okay, clearly Dusk needs more caffeine in 'im before he's gonna be any use. Yes, her...she's our best lead, anyhow. I met her the night I had my dream with Jax. An' ran into her /with/ Lucien the night we had the dream with Matt. An' Peter an' Sage both remember runnin' into her some time before theirs, too." Micah is still a little wide-eyed over how it is possible that this is actually happening. He gives his head a shake, just in time to get that...terrible joke from Hive. He groans mentally, reaching out to scruff the telepath's hair. "I just gotta...figure out the best way t'/ask/ her if it's her. An' if she'll help connect us t'Matt. An' maybe Horus an' Anole after that, if she can an' she's willin'. But /Matt/. It worked before. I just wonder if she can do it on purpose. Or if she /would/." He looks a little nervous now, free hand twisting into the fabric at the hem of his shirt.

"Wait, you're not joking." Dusk wraps his wing snugly around Hive when Hive tucks into it, hugging the telepath close against him with a reflexive surge of protectiveness. "Seriously you think she -- painted the whole -- everything with. Chocolate. Rain. Hug banks. Superhero --" His head shakes in amazement. "But she's just -- /happy/. That kind of power --" His head turns, eyes riveting slowly towards his door, a slow sense of wonder blossoming in his mind. His wing rubs gently against Hive's shoulder. "Nothing strange happened last night."

Dusk's bedroom door finally opens again. Maya has gotten dressed in the same outfit she was wearing last night, of course; colourful green-purple-silver salwar suit with gauzy dupatta, layered over dual layers of thin synthetic and then thicker fleecey base layers for warmth. Warm purple socks. Her damp hair hangs in loose waves around her shoulders and she has a small makeup bag in hand, though she's hesitating before heading to the bathroom, eying the trio in the kitchen with a red flush still in her cheeks. "-- So hello," she says again to Micah -- and now to Hive! -- with a warm, if lopsided, smile. "I usually say that with more clothes on."

Hive tips his head up into the scruffing, eyes still closed. A small shiver passes through him at the touch; he pulls in further against Dusk, head pressing up into Micah's hand. "S'alright everyone Dusk brings through here is buck-ass naked generally." His eyes still don't open, scrunching /further/ closed as if steeling against some pain. << Better you ask than I do, >> he tells Micah wryly.

"Not jokin'. Y'were expectin' someone who wasn't just happy t'be doin' this? S'been the happiest, cartooniest stuff I've ever heard of." << Oh/gosh/. I wasn't gonna let that Sage girl be the one t'approach her. /Sure/ ain't gonna sic you on 'er. Abruptness don't hold a candle t'your grump. >> Micah's tone-of-thought is clearly friendly-ribbing. He chuckles, though he quiets himself when Maya returns. "Oh, hi. Maya. Um. S'okay. Hive's kinda hit the nail on the head there. Sorta...family 'round here, so we ain't really bothered none." Though 'we' are clearly blushing, if not bothered. At least /Micah/ is.

Micah finally just takes a step closer to Maya, leaning against the counter in a nonthreatening fashion. "Maya? Could I ask you a maybe-kinda-personal question? It's important. Otherwise I wouldn't pry."

Dusk gives Hive another squeeze, his wing relaxing but not actually releasing as he loosens up to step further away and prepare the coffee. He keeps an absent eye on the play-wrestling of the animals on the floor between living room and kitchen, Alanna's frantic thrashing having very little impact on Ratri's large paws. "Well no I mean -- I expected happy but the kind of sheer /power/ you'd --" His mouth snaps shut as his bedroom door opens, cheeks pinkening slightly and his head dipping as he turns back to the sink to wash out mugs for everyone.

"S'alright, yeah, everyone's pretty -- laid back about clothes." As evidenced by his current lack-of, maybe. His eyes cut between Micah and Maya at the beginnings of questioning. "How d'you take your coffee? I think we've only got almond milk around. I'm kind of /crazy/ allergic to dairy."

The additional comments on nudity don't help Maya's blushing any, but she's still smiling. She dips into the bathroom to run a comb quickly through her hair, leaving it loose for now, dupatta draped loosely about her shoulders. She bops back out to the living room, pulling out a compact from her makeup bag to lean up against the counter on the living room side and start doctoring her face. "-- Oh -- well. If nobody's bothered --" The blush still doesn't fade. "Just -- not used to meeting -- /wow/, I still don't actually know your name," she admits to Hive. "I swear Dusk told me last night -- some time who his roommates were. I was," there's a flushing echo in her mind taken up mostly with skin pressed together, with moaning, "-- a little distracted, apologies."

Her dark eyes flick up from her compact, briefly, at Micah's almost-question, but she doesn't answer it until she's /done/ with her eyeliner. Winged eyeliner takes work! Only once she snaps the cap back onto her eyelinder and puts it away does she look up again. "Oh, um -- almond is fine. A touch of milk, a lot of sweet." Her brows pull together in a deep note of curiosity. "Sure! Ask what?" She rifles through her bag again, coming up with eyeshadow next.

Hive's lips twitch. "He's a little distracting." He sounds very dry. "Might want to avoid the eyes for a minute. Do like. The. Fucking -- lips." He wriggles out from under Dusk's wing. Grabs a coffee mug. /Glowers/ at the French press. "... why the fuck am I even awake Micah it's like. /Morning/. I hate you."

"That's Hive," Micah offers helpfully when Hive fails to introduce himself. "An' Dusk /is/ pretty distractin'. Um... You hate /me/? How is you bein' up my fault? Y'got a whole apartment full of people who were awake 'fore /I/ got here." He chews on his lip for a moment before getting back to the matter at hand. "So, y'know all the crazy things that've been goin' on 'round here lately? With the city bein' all rainbow-coloured an' the chocolate rain? S'all been comin' out of dreams. Of people I know. An' other folks been havin' quieter dreams that just...bring little items an' such out of 'em. Into the real world. An' some of us have gotten connected t'other people /inside/ the dreams, shared dreams." He pauses, hazel eyes searching Maya for reactions. "Most of us've been...pretty grateful for it. On account of the happy an' how it's been connectin' people an' we just needed that so /much/ lately. An' we been tryin' t'figure out how this has been happenin'. Who might be causin' it. Turns out that just about everybody we know who's had one of these dreams met you shortly beforehand." Another pause is filled with Micah's fingers raking through his hair, mussing at it. "S'there any chance y'might know more about what's been causin' all this?" There is no accusation in his tone, simply an intensely /hopeful/ curiosity.

Dusk snorts at Hive's glowering, swiping the mug from him and depressing down the plunger on the coffee maker. He fills Hive's cup /first/, shooing off the telepath with a gentle nudge of wing so that he can fill the other three mugs second, doctoring them with milk and sugar where appropriate. "S'been really awesome, actually. After how much --" His eyes can't /help/ but move to Hive, here, with another intense flare of protectiveness. "-- how much pain there's been the past months. Just having so much happy. Especially having so much happy to share." He leans across the counter to set one of the mugs down in front of Maya.

"Hive. Right, Hive, I remember. And there was another -- I think he left for class." Maya taps a finger against her forehead like she is committing this to memory. She dabs fixative onto her eyelid, dabbing her brush into her eyeshadow to start carefully applying it next. Though the sudden widening of her eye as Micah speaks makes putting on eyeshadow considerably harder. For a long while she is silent, only slowly closing her eye again to very carefully continue her regimen.

Carefully but more /quickly/ than before, racing thoughts flitting abruptly through a litany of faces. Worried faces bumped into in parks and subways, stressed and anxious faces out on the streets, angry-upset-sad faces with too much weight bearing down on them from the past months. A swirl of pleasant feelings mingling together in warm-bright chaotic-illogic in her mind. "Hard to miss everything that's been going on around here, no?" She snaps her compact shut, fingertip carefully brushing a stray wisp of eyeshadow-dust off her cheek. "I need to get to work. Oh, goodness. Will someone be here at lunch if I come back to let Ratri out?"

"/Your/ brain's fucking louder, dude." Hive swipes the coffee as soon as it's poured, lifting it but then lowering it when the steam is in reach of his face with a grumbly, "-- ffffuck." He starts to slouch back towards his room with the mug, stopping halfway there with head turning and eyes slanting back towards Maya. "-- Dude. Look who you're standing in a room with. That's Jackson Holland's husband. You just fucked a vampire with technicolor wings. Do you really think either of them's going to give a crap if you can bend people's dreams? His kids --” << look like something out of most people's nightmares and his husband could nuke this goddamn building. He still loves /them/. >> This last comes pounding blunt and hammer-heavy into everyone's minds, words thudding in as Hive disappears back into his bedroom and kicks the door shut behind himself. << And I'll take her out at lunch. >>

Micah nods agreement with Dusk. His eyes widen with faint panic as Maya starts looking nervous and preparing to leave. "Wait, please. Don't. We just...wanted t'know who was doin' this t'...thank 'em for bein' helpful. But also they may be able t'help us save someone. Several someones. One of the dreams we had connected us to a person we thought was dead. But it seems like he's not. But he /might/ have been taken by those labs an' we just got no way of knowin' or findin' 'im an' if we knew who was doin' this they might be able t'help connect us t'him again. An' there's...people missin'. We've been missin' since the plague an' the zombies an' this might be our only hope of ever contactin' 'em." There is a tinge of desperation lacing Micah's words as they come faster, trying to get information out as quickly as possible. He gestures after Hive as he leaves, again in agreement (though likely his own sentiments contain a great deal less vulgarity). "We're not...tryin' t'accuse or blame or punish or attack. It's just...hope." His eyes stay fixed on Maya, eyes gently pleading. "Y'don't have to. Not just now. It's a lot an' y'got places t'be. But can we...maybe have a way t'contact you? In case y'do decide y'can talk about it later? You've already got my card. An' y'know where we all live."

Dusk leans his elbows up against the counter, weight sinking down against it and his wings shifting to droop lazily down against his back. "We are kind of pretty much the least likely people to freak at -- whateverthehell mutant powers you can throw at us." His hands curl around his own coffee mug, elbow nudging the last one towards Micah. "And, I mean, normally we don't really like to pry but -- like he said. With everything that's happened -- this has just helped hook people up that we thought were /dead/ and gone. And brought so much --" His eyes follow after Hive, towards his closed bedroom door, and he swallows slowly. "Just so much happy into -- I don't think I even have words for how much it was needed here. So I mean we're not gonna /make/ you stay if you really want to run but -- like I said last night. I'm /still/ going to be pretty glad if you don't."

Maya hesitates, turning away from the counter but then slowly turning back towards it. Her hands rub at her temples, eyes scrunching closed against Hive's hammering mental voice. "/Save/ someone. I don't -- I never --" Her brows furrow, head shaking slowly. "I'm not sure I understand," she says, apologetically. "I definitely can't talk to the dead." Her eyes fall down to the makeup bag in her hands, fingers wringing slowly at its zipper. "Hope." She echoes this quietly. "I just. New York's had so little of it. I wanted to help it find some again."

Micah nods yet again, quiet-soft agreement with Dusk. "Wouldn't be talkin' t'the dead, honey. There's...a friend of ours, Matt. Lucien's brother. Who also has special abilities. We thought he died from cancer, but...no one ever saw his body. There was a mix-up at the hospital an' supposedly he was just cremated so quickly his brother didn't get t'see 'im before..." He eyes the coffee when it is pushed toward him, but doesn't move to take it. "When Lucien an' I had that dream where we were connected, Matt was there, too. An' not like we was dreamin' /about/ 'im. Like he was /there/, too. An' he had scars...like the folks that Jax has helped free from the labs. Y'know, from the videos? We think he might be alive. An' he might've been taken. If...if y'could connect one or more of us to 'im again, we might be able t'ask 'im. Where he is. Y'know? If there's any way t'help 'im."

"He was the sweetest," Dusk says, softly. "I think you'd've liked him. Always just -- wanted to brighten up the world a little bit more, you know. And if they took him into one of those places --" His wings squeeze in against his back. "Just -- kind of want to understand. How it works. Some of our friends, it's been so long since anyone heard from them and then all of a sudden -- these dreams just coming to life, it's kind of. Well, surreal. And it's hard to know if it /is/ real or just -- just wishing really really hard."

"I -- can't." Maya's eyes fall down to her coffee, head bowing in apology once more. "I mean, I -- don't know that I can." Her brow furrows deeply, teeth sinking down against her lip. "That isn't how it works. I don't -- think. Not exactly. I don't try. I just make people happy. It's like." Her cheeks flush deeply, a little awkward. "-- It's like Disney teaches you. A dream is a wish your heart makes. You want your friends back. So that's where your dreams take you. I make the connections because /you/ want to make the connections. I can't -- /steer/. I don't -- think. I just kind of. Lift people up. Give them the push to find their own happiness."

"Okay. That's okay." Micah nods, finally settling a bit. He slides his coffee mug closer to himself, sipping from it. "All abilities got their quirks an' limitations. But...would y'be willin' t'try givin' a push t'someone on purpose? 'Cause I'm pretty sure ain't much in this world Luci'd want more than t'connect with Matt again. I think if he had another chance, that's right where he'd go. An' then they'd know this time. What kinda questions t'ask." His fingers idly turn the mug in place, sending its handle on a slow circuit. "I know this is a lot t'ask. An' we got no reason t'/expect/ you t'do any of this. It's just...the chance, y'know? We had t'try at least."

"But could you? Try? I mean, /have/ you tried? Maybe you could steer, if you just -- figured out how. Sometimes these things just take a little bit of --" Dusk hitches up one wing in a quick shrug, lifting his mug but not actually drinking from it. His eyes lower to watch the steam, its patterns shifting as he speaks with the push of his breath. "I don't know. Practice. Not that you -- haven't had practice, just. Sometimes it can be tricky."

"I haven't had practice," Maya admits easily, flushing a little deeper. "I mean, I /have/. Had plenty, just not quite on this scale. And not on this level of -- emotion, things have been running a lot /higher/ these days than I've ever felt before. This is -- a lot more than I ever tried doing before. And the first time I ever really tried reaching this many specific -- people I haven't actually known. It's been --" Her head shakes quickly. "But I thought they could use it. Lucien -- he was one who needed a dog, right?" Her smile is quick, and a little sheepish. "Yes, I think I have his --" But here her blush deepens even redder. "I think I could try again. With him. He seems like he could use it. Oh gods, I /do/ need to get to work though."

As he listens to Maya's explanations, Micah's head bobs very slightly, as if in anticipation of their request being accepted. When she actually /does/, he abandons his coffee cup and his spot at the counter to wrap Maya in an exuberantly tight hug. "Oh, thank you! Thank you! Just...for tryin'. Even if it doesn't work. Thank you!" He glances down at his watch when Maya mentions needing to leave. "Oh/gosh/! You should go. An' /I/ should go get Spence t'school. Just...thank you!" He gives Maya another squeeze before realising he should...probably stop with the grabbing of recent acquaintances. "Text me! I'll let Luci know when y'wanna try! An' anything else that can help!" With that, Micah darts out the door, hurrying back downstairs.

"Have his --" Dusk blinks, and lowers his cup back down to the counter. Lowers /himself/ further down against the counter. His smile is bright, though, for all his posture is sleeeeeepy. "We know a lot of people who can probably help with practice." He shifts over to the side of the counter so that he can wrap a wing around, brush it against Micah's back and then Maya's in turn. "See you after work." Because he's holding her dog /hostage/. Or just taking her for walks all day.

Maya's eyes widen at surprise!hug, but she breathes out a startled laugh, returning it tightly. "Thank me if it works." She squeezes Micah firmly, then lets go, darting off herself to collect her things -- but not before nuzzling into that brush of wing. "/Definitely/." But then she really is running off.

Just not for /good/.