ArchivedLogs:Emergency Meeting

Emergency Meeting
Dramatis Personae Micah, Jax, Neve, Kay, Shane, Dusk, Joshua, Rachel	11 August 2014 Working out a spiky social situation.
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Sunroom - Lower East Side
Bright and warm, this room is set up to enjoy a little bit of the outdoors even year-round. Tall glass panes make up most of its wall in between wood supports, providing a wide three-sided view of the garden and yard outside. As well as the inner doors leading back into the kitchens and dining room, an outer door leads out to the outdoor gardens, as well. Inside, the room is airy and green -- a plethora of potted herbs and plants hang from the ceiling, as well as ring the room in a series of narrow wooden raised-beds that provide growing space for a selection of herbs year-round. Outside of the herb beds that ring the room, this place is designed simply to come and relax; quiet and simple, with clean stone floors and neutral-toned wicker furniture adorned with comfortable cushioning. Some of the chairs ring stone-and-glass tables for eating or conversing; a few more solitary seats come in the form of rocking chairs or netted hammock-chairs hanging from the ceiling. It has been a bright-hot sunny day that finally eased into a velvety summer night, full of cricket and frog chirps in the gardens outside. The sunroom is cooler now that daylight has retreated save for a remnant of indigo glow that promises to flee soon behind. Though dinnertime was not long ago, the smells of food and drink fill the glass-enclosed space now, a pot of coffee and another of hot tea, a pitcher of peach sweet tea and another of mint lemonade, and several plates of cookies decorate the tables. Mugs and dessert plates and napkins wait to be claimed for their intended uses. Micah has settled in at one of the tables with a cup of hot tea in front of him, still curling wisps of steam from its surface. He is dressed typical for an after-work evening, auburn hair a little spiky from air-drying out of the shower, feet in socks striped in shades of blue and green, bluejeans covering his legs, and a powder blue Totoro face T-shirt over the rest. A hint of restlessness is betrayed by a tap-tapping foot that thankfully isn't contacting the floor to add the /sound/ of tapping to its movement. Jax has snagged a cookie for himself -- rosemary-chocolate chip! And a cup of sweet tea. He's dressed plain and uncolourful, blue jeans and his red 'All my heroes have FBI files' t-shirt, barefoot, sunglass'd. He takes his cookie and tea to settle into a seat as well -- not in a chair but on the floor beside Micah's, setting his tea on the table and nibbling at his cookie. Anyone surprised that Neve's entrance is a quiet thing? No? Here she is, slipping into the sunroom from the gardens. She's in jeans and an off the shoulder buff-colored sweater, exposing a stretch of grey-tinted skin. Her eyes are hidden behind sunglasses--she must have had a spare set!--but her head is bare, showing the darker color working its way to the blonde tips. Her greeting is as quiet as her entrance, a low, "Good evening," coupled with a nod to the seated couple. A detour is made to pour out a glass of mint lemonade, if only to give her hands something to do, before she angles to take a seat in a cradle of wicker, separate from the tables. Kay wasn't far behind Micah in entering the room, lurking along behind him tall and lanky as a scarecrow, and then rapidly swiping one cookie, raising it to grip in his teeth to free up hands to snag two more, which are shoved into the pocket of his hoodie, finally taking a fourth before he's on his way. Terrorism, sadly, doesn't pay all that well - the mooching levels have gone up. Possibly some minor chores have been exchanged. He's also dressed drab compared to his preferred black and chains and punk-rock attire. Just a thin gray hoodie, a baseball cap, loose carpenter jeans and long-arched bare feet on the stone. He glances over his cookie at the two hosts on his way past, and walks up into a chair like stepping stones to sit on the edge of an unused table along the room perimeter. Shane hurries in just a touch late, droopy-tired and smelling heavily of coffee in a strong suggestion he's kind of /raced/ over here from work, dressed still in slacks and vest and bow-tie and button down that would probably be soaked with sweat if he had sweat glands. Given that he /doesn't/, his first stop is the refreshments, pouring out an enormous glass of lemonade and gulping it down hastily before taking a /second/ and moving to curl up in a chair beside Micah and Jax. "... why isn't it fall yet." He is grumbly, holding the lemonade glass to his forehead. Dusk's entrance isn't quiet, a sudden /whump/ just outside the door as he drops down from somewhere above, a snap of wings folding back into place. He's definitely /tense/ as he walks in, lean muscles tight; he's habitually underdressed, shorts, bare feet, no shirt. He's carrying a thermos of his own and ignores the refreshments, just trailing through the room to dispense small /touches/ of greeting, wing brushing against Kay's elbow, fingers tracing down against Shane's gills, kisses dropped to the tops of Micah's and Jax's heads. Like Jax he doesn't take a chair, crouching instead on the floor near Kay's table. "To spite you, probably." Micah's hand rubs at Jax's back on its way to claim a cookie, dipping the edge of his own rosemary-chocolate chip snack into his tea before nibbling at the dampened bit. "Evenin', Neve," he greets with a warm smile, determined to provide at least one welcoming face to her arrival. Kay's wordless entrance earns a wave of his cookie in greeting. "S'gonna be fall soon enough. Weather folks're callin' for a deluge t'morrow oughta cool things off, at least." Dusk's kiss is answered by a little backwards hug from the arm of his not-cookie-holding hand. "Hi, sugar." He glances around at the group, giving people some time to settle in with their refreshments and...honestly not knowing the best way to /start/ things. One smile received and a smile offered in return, with Neve dipping her head a little lower in Micah's direction as that curve of lips is framed. Maybe she is regretting not making a run on the cookies too but the lemonade will serve. Small sips are taken, and presumably she is likewise glancing around at those gathered--dratted sunglasses make it not so easy to tell. But yes. Sipping. Lip-licking. And finally a soft clearing of her throat...though she doesn't actually follow that up with /speech/, though for a moment it seems she might. Also perhaps not a surprise, that. In the end she just tilts her head down to look into the glass while rolling it between her palms. "Never liked a lotta rain," Kay lifts up a bare foot--to try and rest it somewhere atop Dusk's gargoyled back. "Cold or hot - I'm a desert boy. I'll take it dry." Neve's entrance was studied from the corner of an eye, as was Shane's, his overly bony vulpine-face difficult to define as a single expression. The pouched up cheek full of cookie doesn't help much. CHEW. Jax leans back into the brief rubbing, his cookie-nibbling put briefly on hold to return Neve's greeting with a small smile, small lift of chin. He's quiet, though, for her and for all the others who arrive, contenting himself with nods for greeting though he does reach up to squeeze Shane's hand as the teenager passes. "Anyone else comin' from your place, sugar?" he asks Shane, though follows this up with an uncertain frown. "Y'know who else's comin' at all?" It's practically in answer to this that the door to the dining room opens; Joshua is still in his uniform, munching on a burrito as he ambles in alongside Rachel. His eyes skate between Kay and Dusk and Neve though he says nothing to /anyone/, slumping down into a chair very much as though he's just gotten off a double shift. The KIND OF GROSS messy state of his attire suggests much the same. Rachel at least has /showered/ since work, black wings still glistening with water droplets from it. Shane gestures to the two of them, then shrugs. "Dai's still at work. B packed a suitcase and took off this morning. Ines is working too and Horus --" He just frowns at this thought. "Think I'm holding down the /teenage/ fort for now." "I think," Micah pauses to wave as Joshua enters, "that this is everyone who answered that they intended t'come. S'okay if some folks as didn't wander in, too, I s'pose. Um." Tea is a handy excuse for not talking for a moment, the cup drawn up to his lips for a long-slow sip. "I guess we should prob'ly start? I ain't by no means in charge of...nothin'. Just I sent the e-mail so I s'pose folks is gonna wait for me. I'm not sure what the best way t'do this is since it's the first emergency-type meetin' we've had. Guess we could have the folks involved maybe...say what they're thinkin' 'bout what happened t'clue everyone in? An' then we can move on from th--" Blinkblink. Something that Shane says jerks Micah's train of thought right off the track and maybe even the /ground/ entirely. His eyes lock on the sharktwin, promptly forgetting why he might have been in this room to begin with. "B packed for...where did ze go?" "Think before y'all start," Kay withdraws his foot from Dusk's proximity, the playfulness fading. Lurking behind his cookie, his bloodshot eyes instead on connection, blank, with whoever looks his way, "Kinda feel I should get it out - how I did, wasn't right. This is your safe place and uh-." He vaguely waves a cookie and then slumps both wrists to intersect between his knees. "So." So, he says. Takes in a breath, lets it out kind of /hard/ and bares his teeth, more grimace than anything. "Sorry. To every fucking one of y'all." Dusk's back shifts beneath Kay's foot, wings pressing back to /bap/ at it until it leaves him. He settles into quiet, sipping at his thermos but not saying anything just yet. His eyes flick between Kay and Neve, and he taps the lip of the thermos against his teeth. When he /does/ speak it isn't on the subject of the other night's incident but just to answer Micah's question: "Went to a safehouse." After a frown, a moment's consideration: "An actually safe house." His frown at the moment is largely directed down at his drink. Shane just shrugs, slouching down further in his seat. "Didn't want to be here. Left." If /he's/ concerned about this, it doesn't at the moment show. He just drinks his lemonade and cocks his head slightly as Kay apologizes. "This /should/ be a safe place for everyone," he answers at the end of this, "'least everyone who's not hurting anyone here." It's hard to tell /who/ this might be directed at, tone still lazy-casual and eyes tipped towards the ceiling rather than /any/ of the three most pertinently involved. Neve's jaw shifts, the telltale sign of someone busily chewing on the inside of their cheek, the corner of their lips. With Kay's statement, her head draws back and turns to leave those dark lenses focused on the firestarter and the man he'd been harassing with his foot. "I apologize. For offending you." A brief statement, quiet and genuine. The rest that's said leaves her drawing a short breath in through her nose, to be released as she lowers her chin again to refocus on the lemonade. Her lips purse out slightly--the chewing has resumed. Jax clearly /is/ concerned despite Shane's nonchalance, worrying at his lip ring with his teeth as his brows draw deeply together. It is with some effort that he turns his gaze away to the others who speak, shifting uncomfortably but doing his best to focus on them. "We do try to keep it. Safe. But kinda does take -- everyone. 'ppreciate the apology." His brows are still knitted after Kay speaks; after Neve speaks he is quiet, /her/ apology directed to individuals and not so much his place to answer. The tilt of his head suggests he's watching Kay and Dusk now, though. "To a safehouse? Why would...?" Either Micah answers his own question or Shane does in his elaboration. His teeth dig small blanched depressions in his bottom lip, holding tight as he drags a breath in and out. "Later. We should talk." This seems, likely, to include at least Dusk and Shane with their possession of information, and Jax for obvious reasons. "But we got. There's things that need..." His look back to Dusk and Kay and Neve is a little desperate. "Someone please. Just. Talk. I can't." The cookie he was holding has returned to its plate, his fingers working on breaking pieces from it in a slow, inevitable crumbling. One apology, two -- three would make a neat hat-trick here. Dusk sips slow at his thermos, wings slowly quivering against his back. At Neve's brief apology he only snorts -- /likely/ he's not about to follow the other two into making amends. His eyes flick to Neve at Micah's aborted question, lips pressing together though he is at first quiet. His fangs click on the rim of his thermos, rapid soft tapping as he marshals his thoughts. In the end he ignores Neve wholesale, looking to the rest of the room as he finally obliges Micah's plea for speaking. "Other night I saw Neve and Kay alone in the common house together. Went over to make sure Kay wasn't gonna start any shit. I hadn't opened my damn mouth before Neve was huffing about me being there -- can't remember /exactly/ what she said. Some bullshit implication that I was there to start shit with /her/." He shrugs, taking another swallow from this drink. "/That/ was offensive. But I deal all the fucking time with assholes who take one look at me and assume I'm going to make trouble. Insulting, sure. But later when she compared me and Kay and this whole fucking /place/ to /Prometheus/, that wasn't -- wasn't /offensive/, that was fucking /sick/." "Funny, I remember being set on fire a lot more in the labs," looking somewhere towards the ground, Kay's rictus grin remains fixed, rotating his cookie between his long fingers like a monstrous raccoon, "More being strapped down and drugged. Needles. Firehoses. /Locks/." His eyes have settled on Neve, some core tendon in his stooped back seeming fixed /just/ short of pulling himself into standing. "--and I can leave. /B/ can leave. Lotta options in this fucking city but not everyone's," he darts his eyes faintly towards Dusk, and then down to his cookie again. Takes a bite, closing his eyes, "/got/ that freedom." There's a soft rustle of feathers from Rachel's edge of the room with the mention of the Commons being like the labs. Joshua, meanwhile, is still working his way through his burrito; he pauses to wipe at his mouth with a napkin. One finger gestures between himself and Kay. "You'n me, we didn't get the lab with the spa, 's where we went wrong." Those who don't know the medic very well might actually mistake his wry tone for amusement. His eyes fix down on his arms, his hands, toffee-brown skin snarled and etched with scars many times over. "Pretty sure the locks are standard, though. You can walk /out/ of here, yeah. Well --" Shane doesn't finish this thought, brow wrinkling as his eyes slide from Neve down to the monitor strapped at Dusk's ankle. "It was offensive and I was wrong to say that. Rightly or wrongly, I felt cornered. It led to me saying something I very much should not have. For that I apologize as well." Neve lifts the glass but the action is just an approximation of a drink, rim touched to lips, wetting them without drinking. She hasn't really /relaxed/ at all and with Joshua's remarks added to the mix, her posture in the chair becomes a little more upright. "This is a cooperative living arrangement. I think it is safe to say that my being here is a failed experiment, I'm affecting the community negatively. With a little time, I'll make arrangements to move elsewhere." Jax's lips have pressed thin through all this, a very faint haze of shadow coiling around his arms. It vanishes with his next bite of cookie, polishing off the one in his hand and gulping at his tea afterwards. His thumb skims against the side of the glass, pulling condensation together to let it trail down and drip wet against his knee. "This is a cooperative livin' arrangement," he finally agrees, slow and thoughtful. "And those take work, on /everyone's/ part. Don't alla us always get /along/ but we gotta be ready to put the effort in to be respectful even when we /don't/ feel warm an' fuzzy t'each other." His free hand turns up, head turning to fix his covered gaze on Neve. "If this kinda situation ain't right for you, ain't no locked doors keepin' y'here. But this /is/ -- an' is gonna /stay/ -- a safe place for those inclined to /do/ the hard work of buildin' a community. I -- ain't been entire sure how much you've wanted to /be/ part'a the community versus how much you've jus' needed a place t'stay. Cuz you can do the former, if you're willing t'try at it, but we ain't never gonna be the latter. /Ain't/ no place here for folks as don't want to -- /be/ here." "If you're wantin' t'leave, you're welcome to, honey. Ain't no problem with that on our end. An' y'can have the time. Pretty much ain't no livin' situation where it's okay t'just boot someone out immediate an' entire with no lead time." Micah's cookie has seen better days, having become a pile of cookie rubble on his plate, fingertips coated in melty chocolate chip smears. "I'll even try t'help y'find somethin' safe an'...quiet. S'just, meanwhile? It might be a good idea for you'n Lucien t'get t'gether on workin' on your head. I still think there's a good chance that your knee-jerk reactions t'things are bein' coloured by that, most like. Things like mutants bein' monsters an' diseases that they put in your head can sure make it hard t'trust us an' not feel cornered an' set upon, I'd imagine. But /meanwhile/, folks here can't be made t'live with that sort of sentiment, whether that's comin' from you or from your conditionin'. Y'understand?" Micah pauses, inspecting his fingers. "I was gonna ask if...'til you're able t'get that takin' care of, maybe it might be best for you t'be stayin' t'your own place? Folks as wanna visit an' that /you/ want t'have visit could still come, but... It'd keep these incidents from happenin'. There's been more'n one complaint about interactions with you is all, hon. And it seems like y'regret 'em when y'get a chance t'look back at 'em. But in the heat of the moment? I'm thinkin' your conditionin' kicks in." His fingers flick and roll and worry crumbs off of them. "Is that what might work for you an' everyone? If Neve stays, but in her own house until she can do the work she needs on her head? An' then...if you do want t'go I'll help you with that. Maybe Luci may also be willin' t'help some..." The redhead's cheeks have moved to match his hair, clearly not comfortable himself with any of this. Neve's brows twitch together, her face turning towards Micah then towards the others before returning, again, to Micah. "More than...more than one complaint? I wasn't aware there had been other conflicts involving me. I have minimized my presence here, I have not interacted with many people out of...out of respect for the rawness of this all. I want to be a part of the community. But it's possible that feelings are too strong at the moment...and that is fine. It's understandable, those feelings." She touches tongue to lips, wetting them herself this time rather than use the lemonade. "If it's preferred I remain inside, I will. I have an appointment on Thursday. With a psychiatrist. And...others to come, with a lawyer. I will isolate myself, except for those, if that's what the group prefers." Dusk's jaw tightens hard at Neve's mention of being cornered, his head tipping back to fix eyes on the ceiling and his posture shifting back as well, wing leaned up to prop against Kay's knee. He sips at his thermos slowly while the others talk, the tension settled over him tightening his muscles into hard definition. There's a soft scratch of claws over stone as his wings shift behind him, unfurling slightly then pulling back in to wrap tighter around his chest. "You know," he finally speaks up again, nostrils flaring on a hard push of exhale, "that might be a lot of the problem, though. You've minimized your presence here, not interacted with people, but." One thumbclaw flicks towards Jax in indication. "But this /is/ a community. And yeah. Feelings are going to be /hella/ fucking strong when all people know about you is what's on the /news/, and the shit with Themis, and -- half of everyone here knows Matt, and B and Horus /fell/ for your shit and wanted help and instead got." He shakes his head hard. "And if your only interactions with all of us come in these passing bursts where everyone's just on /guard/, shit's never going to change. You're gonna assume we all hate you, and if you keep treating us like shit 'cuz of it we /are/ gonna all hate you. But Jax is right. There's barely a person living here who hasn't some time or other had serious shit to deal with with someone /else/ here but it takes -- work. To work past things. To work together /despite/ things." He lowers his thermos to his knee, lowers his eyes to Neve. "So -- so maybe you do need to take a little bit to yourself to get your /head/ on straight and figure out how you want to deal with whatever they left in there but once you feel like you're in a place to handle being a /person/ -- fff. Leave if you /want/ to, but I think staying here's going to take /more/ interacting with all us, not less. Pick up some -- chores or some shit, feels less /forced/ to make nice with people if you're all working together." Kay's eyes open, when Dusk's wing props against him, finding a bony scaffolding that supports. Hard. And warm. He looks from the vampire, and then back to Neve. Maintaining silence by an efficient /chewing/ as though the last remains of his cookie were a form of tobacco. "There is always plenty that needs doing." It's the first thing Rachel has said since getting here, not stirring from her post leaning against the wall with hands curled around a lemonade glass. "I see Rasheed at work, often enough. I can ask him -- someone else will have to contact Lucien, though if he's not -- comfortable --" Her eyes slide over to Joshua. Joshua shrugs. "/I'm/ comfortable. It's my schedule that's hell and I don't think this is the sort of job we want to start and stop erratically. Not sure how long a thing like that would /take/." "Honey, we--or at least speakin' for m'self--don't /want/ you t'be isolated. I just don't wanna set you up for failure, neither. That ain't fair t'nobody." Micah's hand (fortunately not the one covered in cookie crumbs) swipes through his hair. "It's just a matter of if you /want/ to...or if you /can/. I know there's extenuatin' circumstances. An' it's also a matter of what folks here want an' can do." There is a bit of a wandering glance over the others in the room. "Where that suggestion I came up with came from was hearin' you talk about bein' uncomfortable an' leavin'. An' the same with Dusk an' B. I just...don't know what's best for /everyone/. Does that make sense?" The teacup makes another hasty entrance to provide a natural pause. "If you're ready, I can talk t'Lucien 'bout what he's willin' an' able t'do. I'm still hopeful that breakin' some of the conditionin' will make this all...a little easier. More natural, maybe." "I am willing to make the effort, if people prefer I not give them space," Neve says quietly. "But I prefer to do what is best for the group, yes. If my presence isn't wanted, if it is going to cause...people to leave, whether I keep to myself or contribute, then it's better that I go. For the overall well-being of an established community, yes? It isn't a matter of willingness but one of...attempting to be considerate." A pause. "Perhaps reevaluating, after working with Mr. Tessier or the gentleman," she tilts her head in a polite nod towards Joshua, "is an acceptable compromise." "We knew this was gonna be difficult when we agreed to it," Jax says quietly. "But Lucien checked in with everybody 'fore --" He waves a hand towards Neve. "Think you should at least have a stable an' safe place till you can work out the brain-stuffs. After that -- we can see how things go? Maybe?" He sounds more like he is trying to gauge the feel of the room than like he is making a judgment himself. "Joshua," Joshua introduces himself. The corner of his mouth twitches faintly. "I was there, uh. Few years back. South Dakota. Think that was the first lab you were sprung from, yeah?" The twitch resolves into an actual thin smile as he tips his head towards Dusk. "-- He was on that team too." Shane's claws are clicking against the side of his glass in a slow lazy patternless tapping. "Sounds like a plan. I'll talk to B. See if she'll come back after Lucien works his magic." It's as if Micah had been holding his breath, the degree of tension relieved as people talk more of working together and less of people leaving. A faint hint of a smile even brightens his features a few shades. "Good. Good, that's reasonable. I think...if we're all willin' t'be calm an' work t'gether on this. Get folks the help they need. Give folks space if they request it. An' touch base again after. That sounds like a plan. S'everybody...good with that? Anythin' else we need to address?" Dusk's wing shifts in slow absent stroke against Kay's knee, his head bobbing also slow as people speak. "Mmm." His eyes fix on his thermos. Then on the windows out to the garden. "Sure." The springwire energy in Kay doesn't fade - but then, there aren't many times it does. His sharp squint has shifted, however, from studying faces with lips parted like he's tasting the air to back to his cookie. Maybe he's not paying attention at all anymore, chewing absently. Running an absent knuckle over soft wing fur. From Neve there is no verbal answer. Maybe her volume has finally spun down to zero. But she does shake her head, a gesture meant to answer Micah’s last question. After that, the lemonade is finally lifted for an /actual/ swallow- and the sugar therein seems to provide the spark of outward turned energy needed to lift her head. Dark lenses focus on Joshua, turn briefly towards Dusk, then return to the paramedic. A slow smile follows, silent answer to the introduction. And then? Then she finally bestirs herself, standing to cross back to the cookie-bearing table. Maybe she will have one after all.