ArchivedLogs:Dreaming

Dreaming
Dramatis Personae Hive, Micah, Jackson	23 January 2014 Housing plans ramp up once more.
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. Hive has finally reclaimed his laptop and extra (extra) monitor from Jax and Micah's bedroom, which means that he is now at liberty again to sit in the living room to do his computering rather than in his bedroom where his desktop is. Today he is perched out here on the couch, casual-scrubby as ever in Link-as-Eddard-Stark t-shirt, Theta Tau sweatshirt, faded jeans, grey socks. There's a space heater aimed towards him, a laptop on the table and two monitors hooked up to it, a keyboard in his lap and mouse on the couch beside him. The television is on (hooked up to a netbook of its own, at the moment); it's currently streaming Misfits through Hulu. His attention is kind of split between the show and the three computer screens in front of him, where his latest work project is slowly developing, office building still in its very incipient planning stages. Hearing sounds of TV watching inside, Micah opens the door pretty quickly after knocking. He is dressed in his Batsignal hoodie over 'UNSTOPPABLE!' T-rex T-shirt and rainbow-patched jeans. A pair of fingerless knitted gloves in a minty green with Wish Bear tummy symbols on their backs are attempting to keep his hands warm, likewise a pair of fuzzy lime green socks on his feet. "Hey, Hive!" he greets as he slips through the door, holding it open for Jax behind him. His eyes widen slightly at the screen that seems to have architecty things on it, his bright smile shrinking a little sheepish. "Ohgosh, oops. Apologies. You're workin'. We can come back later." Jackson is colourful as he often is, a pair of very (very!) soft leggings in black decorated with brightly rainbow-coloured jellyfish. He has a very short velvety skirt swishing over top of them, a loose soft bell-sleeved black shirt over that with Little Miss Sunshine tee and rainbow hoodie, mismatched colourful armwarmers, mismatched colourful socks. He ducks a little stiffly through the door after Micah, shoulders tensed with a small prickle of pain. "Brought cookies," he says, hefting a plate in his hands. "Almond shortbread. I can leave 'em." Hive doesn't look up as the door opens; he rarely does, really. "You're way more interesting than working," he mutters down to his computer screen. "Especially when you bring cookies. Fuck. You fucking hurt, dude." He lets go of his mouse, jutting a hand out to the side and making a GRASPING hand. Towards the cookies. "Heard you finally left the damn house, I got like a whole goddamn afternoon off from hearing fucking coming from downstairs, that was --" /Frown/. "Quiet." Micah's blush starts at the observation of Jax hurting and only gets worse at the rest of the commentary. “Y'sure y'don't mind the interruption?” He glances at the screen again, though he has already moved over to the couch next to Hive. “Been doin' some visitin' folks.” Oh, look, the redness in Micah's cheeks apparently has more reason to brighten up! “Why the frownin'? I thought that'd be a /good/ thing?” Jax's cheeks flush red at this observation, too, deepening as well. There's a brief and warmly happy drift of memory summoned up of visiting Lucien's house yesterday; it's absent at first but then becomes more informatively pointed. "M'alright," is what he says out loud, more chipper, "either of you want I should put on some cocoa t'go with the cookies, then?" He turns over the plate of cookies into Hive's grasping hand, leaning in to press a kiss to the architect's forehead. "Honestly, honey-honey, I'd think you'd /like/ us outta your -- hair. Metaphorically speakin'." He ruffles at Hive's head, mussing his shaggy hair. "Huh." Hive's lips twitch at the mental imagery, eyes skipping over Jax and then over Micah; unlike the other two, he doesn't blush, just nods with the reassurance that Jax is alright and moves on to the priority of /cookies/. "You're interrupting with /cookies/, who the fuck would mind that. Shortbread and cocoa sounds great." He saves his work and starts to pare down his barrage of windows, one by one until he's gotten rid of the work and is left with a myriad of webcomics, forums. Random images of animals in adorable poses. A paused music video. The current tech.woot sale. Slashdot. "It's not a -- I /like/ --" He grimaces. "... there's not really going to be any way to finish /that/ sentence that doesn't make me sound like a creeper, is there?" "Oh, definitely yes to cocoa." Once Jax rights again from kissing Hive, Micah brushes his fingers very lightly up along his back, parallel to his spine. "Cinnamon an' cayenne for me." Micah blushes enough for everyone involved at the look from Hive. "Some folks get fussy when they're in the middle of work things and their train of thought gets derailed, cookies or no," he observes with a shrug. And that last comment brings the flush of red into his ears and up the back of his neck. "I mean...would be /convenient/ if y'did...like. I mean. On account of..." His fingers wiggle beside his temple in what is likely a lazy mime of telepathy. Jax's breath catches, a small shiver running up along him with that brush of fingers. His smile is warm, and immediate, and he nods at the orders for cocoa. "Cocoa with cookies, comin' right up," he agrees cheerfully, transferring his hair-mussing from Hive to Micah. Ruffle-ruffle-ruffle, to leave /both/ men with tousled hair that -- admittedly, okay, you can't really /tell/ the difference. He leaves the cookies in Hive's capable hands, heading off towards the kitchen to get out mugs (okay, to /wash/ mugs) and a saucepan and fill it with almond milk to start heating. "Cinnamon an' cayenne good for you, Hive, 'cuz I'll jus' do the whole pan." He bites down on his lip, amusement crinkling his nose at the question of being a creeper, though his cheeks flush deeper red. "I don't think -- I mean, it don't /bother/ me that you're -- it ain't like you're /spyin'/ on us, I mean. Not on /purpose/ you're --" His nose crinkles further. "Y'ain't, are you? I mean, it's not. You're just here. Y'can't help what y'hear, s'better t'be enjoyin' it than -- not. Enjoyin' it." Hive shakes his head quickly, letting his hair fall back down into -- well, okay, it's still just a shaggy mop. He slumps back onto the couch beside Micah, settling comfortably into place and letting his shoulder nestle in against the other man's. He peels the covering off the plate, taking a cookie out to chomp into it. "Eh. I get annoyed in some parts of work. The creative parts mostly but right now I'm kind of in tedium you can derail fucking paperwork all you /want/." His lips purse, twisting to one side. "Spicy's great, yeah," he answers distractedly. Less distractedly: "I'm not -- /watching/, it's not. Like that, I just. Fff. Harder and harder to keep strong boundaries -- lately. With." His teeth clench, and unclench. He crunches into another bite of cookie. "But hearing you guys around the past couple days -- okay forget what I said about being a creeper but I probably /can't/ explain it without being really goddamn maudlin." Which he actually sounds more apologetic about than potential-creeper status. Micah smiles at the hair-mussing, leaning into Jax's hand to facilitate it, even. His eyes follow the other man into the kitchen, though his hand moves to pet at Hive's hair when the telepath leans up against him. "Oh, yay, that means we get t'be a /good/ distraction!" His fingertips work down to massage at Hive's scalp. "D'you need me t'get Lucien t'come over an' work with you again? He's s'posed t'be...makin' sure you're okay." His eyebrows dip down in concern, though he shakes his head a little, expression shifting into a lopsided grin. "We're not gonna mind if y'go a little emo on us, Hive. Think about who you're talkin' to." There are more prickles of pain when Jackson has to reach up into cabinets to retrieve cocoa and sugar, which he mixes together with spices into a bowl. "Psh, yeah, have /emotions/ at us, ohmygosh, all /I've/ been doing for /days/ is havin' emotions at /everybody/. An' you've prob'ly had t'hear /alla/ them, even the ones I /ain't/ had at you direct. I done cried till I ran outta tears and then I cried some /more/ I don't think there's hardly a person /around/ here ain't had my tears on them. Though s'happy tears, those kind are prettier," he adds brightly. "D'you /want/ t'be creative by the way 'cuz'a we come by t'talk about creative-things maybe. Like livin'-things." Hive is quiet, rubbing his head up into Micah's fingers; habitually he turns it to the side to turn one of the scarred sides of his head towards the attention with a quiet nearly-moaning sigh. "Head's fucking killing me," he mutters. "Thanks. /That's/ a good distraction." He inches just a little more to the side, settling more comfortably up against Micah. His fingers tap lightly against the keyboard in his lap, not pressing the keys, just feeling them under his fingertips. "There was a really long time I wanted to kill myself," he finally says. "I mean maybe I still do. But the thing is there was a really long time a lot of /you/ wanted to kill yourselves. And /every fucking day/ I was stewing in that. I couldn't fucking remember what happy /felt/ like because all around here it was just worry and stress and sad and nightmares and wanting to die." His fingers still against the keyboard. His eyes close, and the smile on his face is small, but it's warm. Actually genuinely happy, as his head presses up into Micah's touch. "I can't even explain the fucking difference since you've been home, man. It really /is/ like bringing back the fucking /light/ around here. Just /so/ much happy from every-gorram-body and yeah, I even like the fucking because I used to sit up here and listen to you wanting to /die/ and now I sit up here and feel you so happy you can't think of anything else and do you have any idea what --" He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, but his smile remains. "-- Eh? Creative?" "He's not kiddin'. I don't think I've gotten through a conversation with 'im without tears happenin' somewhere along the line since he came back." The smile that Micah sends Jax's way is fond, however. His other hand joins the first in Hive's hair, fingers massaging more firmly into his scalp, alternating intermittently with a light scratch of nails. He sucks air in through his teeth with a displeased sound, one hand abandoning the rubbing to wrap an arm around Hive's shoulders and /pull/ him closer at all the talk of people wanting to die. The arm squeezes tight. "Any idea...what?" he prompts softly. He does move on to the second question, however. "He means t'get into more of the plannin' for livin' arrangements. Jax'n Dusk'n Flicker are all back now, so we can step off the brakes on what we wanna do. Really get a /plan/ in place. We got folks with leases comin' up soon enough. No way they're gettin' renewed, no matter what kinda legal shenanigans we get up to." His smile broadens. "'Sides the fact that we get t'plan our /place/. Real-honest-home." "Oh --" Jax looks like he wants to rush over and give Hive a /hug/; the impetus is clear in his mind as well. But the milk is starting to bubble and with a dig of teeth down into his lip he stops to tip the cocoa mixture into it, lowering the heat as he whisks it in. "Things did get dark for a while, yeah." He blinks, hard. Fighting back tears that are threatening to well up /again/, he's apparently keeping his track record going strong with his penchant for getting emotional during conversations lately. "But I told Micah when I got outta prison an' I -- I /meant/ it. Somewhere this past year I think I done kinda lost my /way/. Let things keep knockin' me down and stopped even /tryin'/ to get back up. It's gonna be different. Whole lotta different." He flashes a bright smile across the counter towards them. "Startin' with this. Real-honest-home. One that we're all gonna make /ours/. An' won't nobody take from us." Hive's next quiet noise is definitely a moan, when the second hand joins the first. He relaxes further, sinking contentedly into Micah's embrace, not much weight to his bony-hard form when he's squeezed in against the other man. "What a difference it makes," he says, with a small shake of his head. "I don't know how much longer I could have --" He tucks his head against Micah's shoulder, falling quiet for a while. His smile creeps back across his face slowly. "Was dark," he agrees. "You always find your light again eventually, man. And a real honest fucking home is gonna be a /hell/ of a place to shine it in. Holy shit. Been a long-ass time since I've had one of those. We should get back on -- actually getting a concrete list of who's /in/. Purchase property before New York settles the hell /down/ and property gets expensive again. There's some dirt-fucking-cheap places I found we can bulldoze the shit out of, build ourselves a whole little block if we want. Could get people together this weekend, check 'em out." "Oh...honey." Micah watches Jax as tears start to form in his eye yet again. "You come over here an' let us hug you the second you're done with the cocoa." His arm squeezes tighter around Hive in the meantime. "An'...you're still s'posed t'call me, remember. If it ever starts gettin' too bad." He takes a deep breath, slowly in and slower out. "It's over. That's.../over/. It was why--" His head shakes, not going any further down /that/ line of thought. Once he's done with squeezing Hive's bony shoulders, he returns both hands to the scalp massage. "Well, I know everyone in our place an' everyone in /your/ place's in. Maybe Hanna an' Jayna. Maybe Mel an' her roomies. Maybe--Okay, good point, I think the only /definites/ were our place an' yours an' everyone else was varyin' levels of maybe." Excitement sparkles in his eyes as Hive talks about more concrete plans. "Yes. Alla that. What neighbourhoods are the ones you're scoutin' currently in? I been losin' track of all the e-mails an' whatnot..." Jax nods, whisking at the cocoa and blinking again. "It's over," he says, lightly. "We're gonna be aright. We're all gonna be aright. Think Ryan an' Liam an' --" There's a brief flutter of feathers in his mind, a sense-memory of large hard beak preening at his hair with remarkable gentleness, "-- everyone's in too, 'least last I heard. Ohgosh. Ohgosh home." He switches off the stove, carefully pouring the cocoa into three mugs and taking the pan to the sink to wash it and the whisk and set them to dry. He's cautious as he picks up two mugs in one hand, the third in his other, moving veeery slowly with the hot liquids towards the living room to crouch, also veeery slowly, and set them on the table. "How much plan has been /planned/ anyway? Luci says s'gonna be a hippie paradise but I don't even know what -- I mean. What -- /what/. I'm jus' so excited about -- /home/." "Here and the Lower East and Alphabet City, and then up in Harlem and East Harlem. There's other places that are /more/ space for cheap -- uh, /especially/ if we moved out to other boroughs, but between Jax's school and Spence's school and Flicker's, it'd make commuting a bitch and a half for /someone/ so I wasn't sure how much I wanted to spread looking out too far. Can revisit it now if people are interested, but --" Hive shrugs a shoulder. "Daiki's in for sure," he adds. "Is it odd that two of the youngest people in our group are the most financially stable? Because I feel like B and Dai are going to be putting down the bulk of our initial -- whatever." His eyes close again at the brief mental image of feathers. He turns his face in against Micah's neck, briefly, drawing in a slow breath. But then sits up, moving the plate of cookies from the couch cushion beside him to sit next to his laptop and the cocoa on the wide table. "Sure. Whatever. If we're designing the whole fucking thing we can make it whatever the fuck we want. We should get as many people together as we can to scout around. Pick a location people like. And then start working on concrete plans. But for now --" He settles back against the couch again, nestling into Micah's side once more. "For now just dream. Might not /all/ be workable. What would you all want in a home? Flicker and I just -- want a huge-ass common space to keep all our games and play in." As soon as Jax has settled the mugs on the table, Micah spares an arm to reach for him, pulling him down onto the couch next to them by a hold around his waist. "Yeah, we don't wanna get too far out for people t'be able t'get where they need t'be." Micah blushes faintly at the financial question. "Unfortunately, I weren't really thinkin' of buyin' up real estate when I started up a business from scratch...ain't a good way t'leave yourself with much t'invest in other things for the first couple of years. Gonna start doin' some consultin', though, t'help out with the financial situation, hopefully. 'Bastian said the folks at Stark are s'posed t'call me for the project he's workin' on right now...maybe." Micah's free hand works back into Hive's hair when he leans against him again. "Think a game room's a great plan. The boys want a pond big enough for 'em t'sleep in. I think some fenced-in outdoor space would be a good plan, too, so folks as usually get harassed when they're outside have a safe place t'be outside without...havin' t'worry about all that. If we could /also/ work some decent vegetable gardens in, that'd be perfection." His fingers rub at Hive's scalp again, a bit more slowly and thoughtfully now. "Need a big ol' common area dinin' room an' kitchen for group things. Then...things that'd just be /nice/ that people've mentioned so far have been some studio space for the artists, workshop space for the more science-y an' mechanical folks. It'd be nice t'have...like a sunroom for Jax. That'd be warm an' full of natural light even in the wintertime. Maybe a little gym? I know there's folks as...get thrown out of those spaces, too. Just wanna have /everythin'/ that people don't always get t'have out in public, y'know? If we're dreamin'." "Oh, gosh, are we dreamin'?" Jackson is slow and rather careful when he settles down onto the couch, tucking himself gently in beside Micah with a happy sigh. "I like dreamin'. I'd love a studio t'paint, but if there's a workshop can it have a place t'work glass? I'd /like/ a kiln t'blow -- big things but that's an even huger investment so I'd settle for a torch t'work smaller projects." His hand falls to Micah's thigh, fingers rubbing in slow kneading. "A garden'd be so lovely. With space for the boys t'soak. If we really get enough space t'have like a -- little -- block or somethin' then s'any way we could set it up with the -- individual houses built /around/ the common space? So the biggest shared outdoor space is -- central somehow. Everyone's private homes around it. An' if there is common house it could be whichever's most central, too." "Mmm." This time it's not a moan. Just quiet and thoughtful, though Hive is still pressing almost catlike up into the touch. He reaches for his mouse again, waking up the screen of his laptop to open up one of the programs he'd been using before. This time he works quickly, just light-rough sketching only barely formed as he thinks. Blocked out squares of housing circling a wider-open central space. Dotted lines patching out tiny backyards to each. A larger rectangle in the middle that he helpfully labels GARDEN? He draws a circle in its center. POND. "You know," he adds, "If I'm /building/ these places you can dream whatever you like. You can have a kiln in your goddamn fucking /house/ if you want though I wouldn't really, uh. -- actually hell why not. But, uh, if you want me to build the boys' /room/ with a tub in it -- it's only because most buildings /aren't/ built to support that much water that makes it hard." "That sounds like it could be a nice set-up. A whole rectangle of houses facin' outward, little front yards just for small flower gardens or such, bigger yards in the back for pets or kids or porches or whatever, then a central outdoor space for the big vegetable garden an' some shared open space." A soft, pleased sound almost like a purr answers Jax's rubbing. "Should prob'ly consult the boys on what they'd like in...whatever water feature. An' room arrangement. Work out things like if Daiki wants t'be livin' with us or not. If so, then whether he wants his own room or wants t'share with Shane or...if the boys want t'work up a two-room /suite/ with the option of closin' a door in between for some privacy instead of havin' just one room t'the two of 'em all the time. Though that's gettin' more into what we want in a /house/ than the group situation on the whole. Think we oughtta figure the bigger stuff first." Micah's fingers tap idly at Jax's hip where they happen to be resting with his arm around the illusionist's waist. "Should have access from all the individual houses into the common outdoor area, an' the common outdoor area should have access t'the common /indoor/ area without people needin' t'go out on the street an' whatnot if they don't want to. An'...prob'ly a good idea t'invest in some fairly shatter resistant glass for whatever windows're accessible t'the road. I'm just...thinkin'. The kindsa trouble that folks've had. Should be prepared with so many folks bein' in one place like this." "Think maybe the commonest-common house should just be -- somewhere in the center space?" Jax wriggles a little bit with excitement as Hive starts with the sketching, but immediately catches his breath and settles back down. "Both cuz it'll be easier t'access for everyone that way and, uh, harder to -- target." His nose wrinkles slightly. "But yeah the individual house-designs y'can work on with, well, individuals but -- guess everyone who's in on this at the beginnin' can have a say on the overall --" His hand squeezes in at Micah's thigh. "Dream." His smile grows wider at this. He waggles a finger towards the sketching. "So maybe like garden-space there an' like. Inside -- eatin'-cooking space there with. Recreation -- space. Thing. Space. Mm. -- Can our house connect to yours?" He sounds a little wistful here. "Or are you real sick of hearin' us /thinkin'/ at you all the time." Hive erases some of the lines he's drawn, reconfiguring them. Attaching some of the homes at the edges instead of making them free-standing, which leaves a little more central space, making the back gardens narrower to make the shared space wider. He moves the garden down some, the pond to a corner of it rather than its center, makes it smaller. Taps his finger slowly against his mouse, before sketching in a narrower building into the center of the common area where the pond had been. "Really, what we can fit in it -- aside from cost it'll depend a lot on how /tall/ we're allowed to build. Can fit a whole lot into New York buildings, though. Don't need all that /much/ space to give you a gym /and/ /two/ bigass kitchens /and/ a tabletop room /and/ a dining room /and/ an entertainment center /and/ a workshop /and/ a studio /and/ a music room /and/ whatever the fuck else everyone else is going to want. It'll just mean a few stories one way or the other. But, uh." He tips his head to the side, offering the others a crooked grin. "We might have a little debt." His emphasis on the little makes it -- a little understatement. "Might be worth it though." He leans forward to pick up his cocoa, gripping the handle in bony fingers and settling back against Micah to rest the mug on his knee. "/Dusk'd/ sure as fuck miss it," he answers with a snort. His mouth twists upwards more crookedly. "Guess I would too. Would be strange as fuck to think about /home/ without you all." "Guess we could just do one /big/ house? Or...maybe like a duplex town house that has doors connectin' through the shared wall...if y'all aren't interested in /actually/ sharin' a house." Micah disengages his fingers from Hive's hair to let the telepath fetch his cocoa. This conveniently frees up one of his own arms for doing the same, blowing over the surface of the hot liquid before sipping from it. "Thanks, hon," he offers a little belatedly to Jax, bonking his forehead into the other man's shoulder. "Yeah, we'll have t'figure out...how many people we're gonna have an' what kinda resources everybody can contribute. 'Fore we really got an idea of what's /reasonable/ for that space or not. S'only so much debt it'll make /sense/ t'take on from a venture that ain't expected t'be turnin' a profit on its own." His arm around Jax's waist gives a very gentle squeeze. "Should get a better idea of who's interested an' have some big group vision meetin's though, yeah. This is gonna be wonderful." "S'a big, big house, with lots an' lots of room." Jax sings this half to himself, a quiet cheerful line under his breath as he nuzzles his cheek against Micah's head. "Luke Cage wanted t'get involved -- quiet-like. He might maybe have some resources t'contribute -- oh/gosh/, resources. I got this huge -- I have all these /people/ I need t'get in touch with while I got free time. Still need t'get in touch with -- uh sorry, derailed. From the cops' -- I have a bunch'a people t'dish out money to. Just kinda my brain got sidetracked cuz' -- money. But -- yeah. Wow. Um. This is gonna be -- amazin'. Seventeen million kindsa amazin'. S'pose I probably shouldn't ask for a dungeon." "Connecting duplex better. Two kitchens, anyway. Two for the common spaces, too, I'd think. One kosher-vegan and one -- not." Hive chuffs out a quiet-sharp breath at Jax. "Maybe not in the common space," he answers Jax. "But I don't see why not in /yours/. Not like your kids are gonna care. I don't know what the fuck's reasonable. We're dreaming. Dreams are never reasonable. I built the fucking Mendel Clinic I don't work in /reasonable/." He lifts his cocoa, drawing in a slow sip through his teeth. "Cage. He on the mailing list? I'll send out an email. Maybe now. Before I forget. Brain's like a fucking sieve lately." Micah kisses Jax's cheek when the other man nuzzles close, between sips of cocoa. "Right...all the money from the...thing with the cops." He moves to sip his cocoa again, but mostly /sputters/ over it with Jax's last...request. He clears his throat a few times before speaking, cheeks dusted with light red again. "/Definitely/ not in the common space. Might could...have a basement." He nods at Hive's thoughts on the duplex. "Right, good point. Have some space for the non-vegans to have food. Lots of connectin' doors, though." He smiles down at the other two. "Definitely gonna be amazin'."