ArchivedLogs:Empowering

Empowering
Dramatis Personae Billy, Dusk
In Absentia	Independence Day '
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. The day has been on-and-off rainy throughout, wet but in the aftermath it's left the world refreshingly cooler. Dusk's text didn't have a whole lot of warning time before it, late in the afternoon already when it came with the invite to their own (private!) (insane-crowd free!) fireworks show over at the Commons after dark. The grounds at the Commons in the after-dinner hours are more bustling than usual, a host of new faces milling around -- though it's nowhere near enough to be called a /crowd/, a few people in the gazebo, some scattered around the various patios and balconies. An /observant/ eye might notice that a good number of these faces seem -- just a little dazed, a little shellshocked, a little uncertain. A lot of the people around sport bandages or the stiff movement that suggests injury beneath their clothes. Somewhere down in the courtyard, Jax is in a wheelchair tonight, vividly bright rainbow tie-dyed cast on his leg and a swath of bandaging hiding fully half his face. Somewhere. Up here, though, it's quiet. Dusk is perched on the treehouse's wraparound balcony, the side projecting into the courtyard rather than over the river. In his usual at-home style he sports camo cargo shorts but no shirt or shoes -- he has bandaging of his own, wrapped around his wrist, though he seems otherwise unhurt. Very pale, though, and a little unsteady where he leans against the balcony rail. There's a large carafe of coffee in his hands, wings quivering restlessly at his back. A timid few knocks punctures the silence as Billy peaks up from the Elven staircase, only his head visible. Fitting in with the worse-for-wear crew with his arm in a sling, he continues forward cautiously. "Hey. I saw you up here from down below," he explains, twitching up a smile, "Brooding." His pale left hand holds tightly onto the rail as he ascends the final step. Though he's in his signature white, a tiny American flag pin is stuck to his polo. "You're stereotyping," Dusk accuses. "Just because I'm a vampire doesn't make me broody. /I'm/ enjoying my evening. S'frakking gorgeous out for once." He offers the carafe of coffee over to Billy -- strong and plain and black and still hot, though not painfully so. "Gonna get more gorgeous soon, toon." Billy looks worried for a moment, as if he might have really offended Dusk. Taking the carafe, he sips and looks out into the crowd. "Qu'est-ce que c'est Frak?" He leans over the balcony, smile slowly returning in the form of a smirk. He holds the coffee back out to Dusk. The courtyard below is still only sparsely populated, a dotting of people sprinkled about. Someone has turned up cookies from somewhere. These are being passed around with a furtive sort of glee like /illicit contraband/. Dusk's brows raise as he takes the carafe back, lips just twitching faintly at the question. "I told you I'm Puerto Rican, right?" He rests the carafe on the railing, wings shifting briefly again. "I hate the fireworks normally," he adds, "but these ones are way better." Billy arches his eyebrow, "Yes. I was warned." He wets his lips, looking down as the carafe is passed to make sure he doesn't drop it. His left hand is shaky and awkward to use. "'The Puerto Ricans look like us, now.'" He looks back out over the crowd, "I've never been into this holiday. But I am rather looking forward to them this year. I don't know- I could use something empowering." He peeks his pale-green eyes up towards the sky as if testing it. Dusk exhales a soft breath of laughter, brows still raised. "Does this holiday make you feel empowered?" he wonders, just before: "-- What's been making you feel disempowered?" "The lights. The color. The explosions?" Billy peers over towards Dusk but doesn't answer the second question. It doesn't need to be answered. "Are they going to use someone's powers? Or did you guys buy fireworks?" "... lights and colour make you feel disempowered?" Dusk's head turns, casting a puzzled look over to Billy at this answer. /Too/ puzzled, evidently, to really register the other questions. "What? Oh, no," Billy laughs, "Sorry." He shakes his head, "I was just thinking about how it was /empower/ing." "I-I, I make myself disempowered." He pales, "Don't need any help." Dusk's mouth opens in a small round O of sudden understanding. There's a moment when he looks on the verge of saying something else -- but doesn't, instead just sipping at the coffee again and offering it back to Billy. His eyes skate downwards, skimming briefly over the scattered people below in the courtyard. "I just like the pretty lights. Not usually a fan of crowds and gunshot-sounds though. I don't know about empowering. I'm pretty content with /fun/, I think." Overhead there's a glow, shivering up bright into the sky and exploding -- completely /noiselessly/ -- into a shower of brilliant red-orange sparks. They don't flutter and fade away as fireworks normally would; the sparks reshape themselves into a number of glowing salamander-shapes, the fiery lizards scattering across the sky overhead. Dusk's head tips back, his far wing curling up reflexively to shade his eyes before he lowers it to watch, properly. The blonde raises his chin to the sky as well, eyes widening in childish awe. He flinches at first, expecting a great boom but as one does not come, he slowly relaxes and leans further into the railing. As the flurries of light transform, he lets out an impressed sigh. The light show overhead is continuing in much the same vein -- no normal fireworks, it likely answers Billy's earlier question quite clearly as the colours explode and shift and change into fantastical creatures, entire background scenery glittering overhead, images exploding and transforming to play out fairytale stories in the sky above the courtyard. Off in the distance behind them there are other fireworks starting up, official city ones being shot up from barges along the river, glittering puffs of light nowhere near as intricate as the ones in front. The cracks of explosion from /them/ sound oddly muted, nowhere near as gunshot-explodey as they likely should be given the Commons' proximity to the river. Even so there's a very faint flinch from Dusk, wings twitching through another gulp of coffee. His eyes focus up on the show overhead. "It's kind of like having Gandalf living next door at party-time." "This treehouse *does* make me feel like I'm in like uh, Lothlrien," Billy is smiling up at the light show and has been for some time. He mutters something about second breakfasts, hard-pressed to draw his eyes away from the sky for even a moment. Though, he does look away to check that Dusk is still there, looking back up almost immediately after. Billy watches the bat man twinge in his peripheral. "Is it the sound?" Billy broaches the subject tenderly. He holds up the only hand he has available, turning it on his slender white wrist to showcase it, "I can cover only one ear." "It's pretty excellent. I think Hive wants to just live in here. He kind of built it as a surprise once the rest of this place was finished." Dusk's eyes are focused up, watching the show with rapt attention. His lips twitch upward, fangs glinting in odd bright colours reflected from overhead. "Jax can get pretty elfy so maybe it's appropriate. He's kinda making all this up on short notice I think his husband just asked him, like, this afternoon, if he wanted to give everyone a show." He shrugs a shoulder, glancing down for a moment to the people below. Then back up to the sky. "Thanks. I think I'm adjusting okay. We kinda got lucky with the view here but -- then. The noise. S'not as bad as it could be, thankfully." Brow creased, Billy reaches around behind Dusk's shoulders to bravely snake his hand to his ear. For his own comfort, he target's the side not facing him- that is, if he's allowed. It's a terrifying action for him to take, and his heartbeat likely competes with the thrum of the distant explosions. "It's pretty loud," Billy lies, fluttering his eyes back up to the fireworks. His jaw tightens and loosens, nervously. Dusk snorts, quick and sharp. "Naw, it's kind of muffled. Just not a sound that makes many people around here /happy/." He shifts a little closer to make the gesture less of a reach, a small smile tugging at his lips. The smile fades, his breathing slower and a little more careful as Billy's heartrate rises. He swallows slowly, fixing his eyes on the show overhead. "Thanks." Billy does relax some, draping his arm over Dusk's back to support his hand. His heart-rate however, remains rather high nonetheless. "Mhm," he answers, gulping and watching the show. A particularly bright burst of white light from the fireworks forces him to close his eyes, which are actually a little overly sensitive to that sort of thing. His body jolts and he turns his head into his own shoulder protectively out of reflex. "Ah," he hisses. His arm tightens for a moment, unconsciously pulling Dusk closer towards him before going more limp again seconds later. There's a similar tensing from Dusk at the brighter burst, though his reaction is not so strong. His wing lifts, snaking around behind Billy's back to curl up and around in protective shading of the other man's eyes. "S'kind of nice. Not, uh, the bright. Just. I'm not really into all the rah-rah nationalism. This is more just --" He looks up at the fantasy-scenery playing out overhead. Down at the refugees scattered across the lawn. Back up. "... freeing." Billy peeks back up at what Dusk is looking at and then out over their fellow mutants, as well. "Almost makes you wonder what it would be like to have a country that's just like, /us/." Chest rising and falling, he does actually feel very free right now. He curves his mouth into a smile and leans his head against Dusk's, watching the rest of the show in content silence.