ArchivedLogs:Exuberance

Exuberance
Dramatis Personae Jackson, Rasa
In Absentia	2014-02-03 Part of Morpheus TP
Location <XS> Art Room - FL2
Smells of paints and chalks and turpentine mingle freely in this room, well-used, well-stocked. Natural light flows in, plentiful through the large windows. The long counter-like tables are speckled with spots of color, and half finished projects often stand on easels or propped in corners. The many cupboards lining the walls are crammed full of art supplies. Classes have finished for the day, and in the mid-afternoon light outside, the world beyond the windows is slowly starting to revert to its usual hues. Slowly. For now, though, it's brightly colourful still, even if a little bit less /glitter/, a little bit less /glitz/. The snow sleeting down, though, is sleeting down in rainbow colours, making the ground below start to run in a muddly rainbow swirl. Inside, Jackson has just as much glitter as ever. The swallow threaded into his eyepatch shimmers in iridescent thread fading from one rainbow hue into another against a black backdrop, and his makeup shines in a sheeny-rainbow-oilslick shade that sparkles wetly rainbow-black on his lips and nails and eyes. He wears a soft velvety black skirt over silver leggings, knee-high black boots with shiny silver zippers, green 'cow hugger' t-shirt; the tattoos on his arms are brilliant-bright, freshly redone. At the moment he's giving a wealth of brushes a proper cleaning near one of the sinks, standing a little stiffly, moving a little stiffly; his sweatshirt's been discarded on a nearby stool while he works with jars and rags and the harsh smell of turpentine. As soon as classes are done, Rasa makes a beeline to the art department, a feat made more easy by the fact that ze chooses to scurry along the ceiling instead of the lower half of the hall ways, the path less obscured, aside from where doorways are involved. Ze is cautious around them, so when ze reaches the doorway to the art room Jax is in, ze peeks around the door frame first, hir back pack hanging a little lower than hir head, making sure no one is in the way before ze grips the archway and swings inside, landing on three feet. "Hey Jax. Is it alright if I paint? Kind of want to capture some of the colorful shit that's been going on lately before it disappears from my memory too." "Oh -- hey Rasa." Jax's smile lights his face -- not literally. Which sometimes has to be noted in his particular case. Just warm and cheerful as he half-turns to angle towards the doorway. "S'startin' to fade ain't it." He sounds -- not quite disappointed, but a little wistful. "Oh right yeah sure totally come on in. Grab a -- whatever y'need. I apologize, it smells kinda turpentiney. We was doin' a lotta oils in here couple periods back an' I wanted to give the brushes a proper clean 'fore I headed home." His eye flicks over Rasa quickly, then over the window to outside. "I took about a bajillion pictures," he admits almost bashfully. Rasa is as colorful today as the outside was yesterday, iridescent blues and purples mingling all over hir skin in tiny scales in between fluffy velveteen fur. Hir eyes are large and yellow, a soft daffodil shade on snowy white. Hir tail releases its grip on hir bag after ze settles and stands up straight, the books inside settling into the base of the bag as ze shrugs out of it and puts it aside. "Yeah, I kind of wish I had thought of it, but since I'm not really good at realism, I'm just hoping something will come out of the brush for me. Dunno if it'll be impressionistic or abstract, but... I don't know. Just been feeling really good about what's been going on lately." Ze pauses and stares at Jackson. "You teachers haven't found any reason to worry yet, right?" "If y'ever want some references I can show y'-- I come out at sunrise t'day an' took a whole /wealth/'a photos of the grounds around here, too. Thinkin' about incorporating some'a them into class some time only it feels kinda egotistical," Jax admits with a small laugh. "Given that s'kinda my art that -- painted the city." A light blush flushes his cheeks as he dips his brushes into one of the jars, wipes them against a rag. "No. So far as anyone's seen, everything that's come outta all these dreams has been happy. All these /dreams/'ve been happy. Even -- there's been once at least it seems like it /turned/ a nightmare into happy. Whoever or whatever's doin' this, we don't know as it's on purpose or accidental, but it sure don't seem like it's malicious. Jus' -- spreadin' -- cheer. An' Lord knows that's a blessing lately." His nose wrinkles up. "Kinda a colourful one. Um, y'need me t'grab anything? Watercolours, oils, acrylics, what's your feelin'?" His smile curls a little happier. "M'glad t'hear it, too. That you're feelin' good about it all. Um -- was kinda wondering. If you'd -- met anyone different lately." "Water colors and salt would maybe be the best way to do this, I think. I'm glad it was your art. Not saying everything you do is bright and cheerful, but I'm glad this time, this was the focus." Rasa heads over to the stacks of water color paper and grabs a board and staple gun, setting about securing hir paper before ze gete started. Ze listens quietly as ze works, clearly able to hear Jax over hir stapling. "Oh. Well, I guess that dream Peter and I had was just so ridiculous, I couldn't help it. I was just kind of in for a penny, in for a pound. Part of me wonders if I'm on drugs because the happy stuff seems so foreign, but ---" Ze trails off and moves over to a work table and lays down the board. "Well, there was this one woman with wings that stands out in my mind. I didn't get her name, but she made some awkward comments about metamorphs and sex. I don't know if that's helpful. I'd probably focus on Peter. I just feel like it was his dream and I was just along for the ride." "This whole thing has seemed pretty bright an' cheerful. So if this is accidental maybe s'comin' from someone cheery. An' if it's on purpose -- maybe it's comin' from someone /friendly/ an' bright an' cheerful." Jackson seems pretty sanguine about either of these possibilties. "That dream sounded kinda amazing." There's a note of laughter in his voice. "Maybe the whole'a New York's on drugs. Happy drugs. -- Huh. Wings. Wings like what kinda wings," he muses thoughtfully. "Wonder if she met Peter too. I'll see if any'a the others met her. We're kinda just tryin' to see if maybe there's someone who don't even know what they're doing --" He shrugs, a little absently. "Wonder what it says about this past while that the happy stuff is seeming foreign. Hope it sticks around long enough that it starts t'become second nature. Uh. Maybe not the crazy dream-colours. Just the happy feelings." "Probably says we clawed our way out of death and apocalypse and distant loved ones and forgot how to live in the process." Rasa's voice is a little hollow as ze grips the board, staring at the stark white surface. "Um, They were brown wings, under a jacket. She didn't show the off very long, maybe enough to get a cramp out, but then she left and said she'd be back around later." Ze leaves hir board behind and goes to the closet to start filling a cupped palette with teensy bits of watercolor paint. "And you're right. The dream was amazing. I could fly and we were in space and everything was kind of amazing. I wasn't scared of Osborn at all and threw him around like a sack of flour." Hir smile starts to return, finding a cup to fill with water. "Well. Maybe now we're finally all learnin' again. Maybe," Jax muses thoughtfully, "whoever's doin' this is learnin' again, too. There's something /exuberant/ about it all, ain't there?" He shakes his head, his blush deepening. He swirls the brushes around in the glass, dabbing them gently against the rags again. "Flying's a treat, I'd bet." The last statement startles a laugh out of him. "Oh gosh. An' maybe that is, too. Being not-scared sure is. Though I guess y'don't need a dream t'practice it. I could take you in the Danger Room to practice --" His blush deepens. "Well. Not bein' scared." "Exuberance is the best word for it," Rasa agrees, painting dampness onto the paper before dabbing hir brush in the pure color pigments ze selected and dripping and swirling colors in the different patches. "I've been trying to write Ivan emails about what's been going on too, but words are hard to express. Maybe paintings and pictures will work better." Ze pauses when Jax continues, setting her brush and palette down as ze jumps up to get some rock salt from the supply cupboard. "I kind of want to try flying. None of that hover stuff that some of the others can do, even though it was cool as hell in my dream, but... Well, the twins and I were talking and we kind of decided that I should approach someone like Dusk and ask if I can copy him - try to build the strength up for it, and learn to fly. Seems kind of less scary than learning to breathe under water, but I'm going to ... seriously try that in a bathtub or something someday." Ze coughs. "Mmm. I mean, with both the twins there takin' turns on standby learnin' to work their --" Jax waves one of his damp paintbrushes in the general direction of their neck, "would probably be safe enough, even if. Kinda painful. I mean s'painful for /them/ an' they've lived with 'em forever." His nose crinkles up, fingers reflexively brushing down the sides of his /own/ neck as if trying to calm difficult breathing by /proxy/. He shakes his head, though, smiling easier at the mention of Dusk. "He taught Isra to fly. So he's got experience -- could prob'ly work with, once warm weather rolls back in. I gather the sky's just a miserable place about now. But if you ever get in the mood for exuberant --" He shoots Rasa a wide smile. "You done met him down Friday nights, yeah? I bet he'd work with you on it, if y'did like. Though I don't know if it's a whole lot less scary than -- uh." His cheeks burn furious red. "'pologies, not that I want to discourage. /Either/ way you'll have folks on hand helpin' out." Rasa nods as Jackson speaks, hir face turned toward hir board, hir fingers gently sprinkling little grains of salt onto the wet slick of color, the moisture rushing away and puddling just a little bit visibly. "Oh, I'm not taking it as discouragement. As my teacher, you're partially my guardian and you have to caution me. I want to do it right - which is why I'm being up front about it." Ze turns to smile at Jackson, studying him for a moment. "I just... want to grow. I never seem to learn to look normal, so instead of being supersecretnormallooking Metamorph, I've kind of started to set my hopes on accessing all of the different things my body can do. So, wall climbing, free running, trapeze and aerial work, rock climbing, everything that the school teaches - I've been trying and working at, on top of my studies." Ze blushes pink purple from the center of hir face, altering the fur color there, but not the iridescent scales. "Sorry. I just keep talking. I'd love to do danger room stuff with you, too. Sorry I didn't say so earlier. I just got ahead of myself. Can we do some fun things in there too? I mean, I was falling through Styrofoam buildings and being punched by lasers that barely tickled. And Osborn and Desiree's brother were... more comical than anything, temper tantrums and all. It was awesome." "S'a good goal. I mean, the direction you want to take your powers in is ultimately up to you. We ain't here to help you hide, we're here to help you /grow/ -- whatever direction you want to take that. An' there's so /many/ different ways you can take your life. Whatever you think feels like the right direction for you to grow in --" Jax shrugs a shoulder, swirling his brushes through the last of his jars. "S'what were here t'take you in." He grins, quick and crooked. "Plus rock climbing's just /fun/ but I might be biased there." He taps the brushes lightly against the jar, tamping them lightly against a clean rag and hanging them to dry. "We can totally go for fun -- wait, comical?" He presses knuckles to his lips. "Sor --" He rubs his fist against his chest in a signed 'sorry'. "Got a little derailed for a second, I only always see him all proper I wish I coulda seen -- OK right. No. Right okay we can totally do fun. I gotta admit," he confides, "I ain't all that great at real serious DR stuff /anyway/." Rasa grins nice and bright as Jackson is derailed. "Well, it's a context thing. I mean picture a world where everything is pastels and there's one little boy all in black, holding a pink balloon by the string and being unmoved by it." Ze raises a bare hand and wiggles hir fingers at him. "I can show you, if you want, what I remember of the dream." "Ohgosh that /is/ Luci." Jackson breaks into outright laughter at this, washing his hands and drying them once he's hung the brushes up. His eye widens in delight at this offer, and he makes his way -- quickly if a little /stiffly/ over by Rasa. "Oh! Oh you /could/. Please?" There's a sudden bright hope to it. "Because honestly that dream sounded like a bit'a /awesome/." "Wait until you see his facial hair." Rasa remarks as ze lays hir hand on Jackson's gingerly, allowing him the opportunity to pull away any time he wants to. Then ze projects the dream to him. Everything is a lot more fuzzy, like looking through a fish eye lens, but the memory of it has been polished by intense reflection and discussion with Peter - and the gratuitious costumes running around the school. Ze makes sure Jax gets to see the beginning, all his friends and loved ones (and Eric) in all their costume glory before skimming though some other stuff to get down to the street and the fight in front of the hug bank. Since ze is projecting with such concentration, there is no physical feedback in hir body from Jax, just some of the images from the dream displayed on hir now smooth skin. Jackson's hand lifts, as the dream is projected, oilslick swirled nails touching to oilslick swirled lips and his eye lighting -- literally, this time, a shimmery glow illuminating its vivid blue. A low thrum of laugh accompanies the others' explanations of why they can't come to the rescue before Peter and Rasa swoop in to help. "Oh -- oh my gosh. Oh my --" And then silence, just that continued glow in his eye. The makeup is apparently real and not illusion today, judging by the faint glimmery-dark dappling on his fingertips when the dream finally finishes and his fingers drop frop his lips. "Oh /gosh/. Hug dolphins -- oh /gosh/. Y'know." His cheeks are deep crimson, his eyes lowering. "Think it says somethin' real wonderful 'bout the two of you that in your dreams /everyone's/ a superhero." "Hug the fuck out of dolphins," Rasa replies, the vibrato of a giggle on hir words. The images on hir skin disappears as fur regrows, shifting back to the dark luck dragon motif. Ze lets hir hand slip away as ze shrugs hir shoulders. "I have to say that it was probably mostly Peter, and it really explains a lot about him and why he does what he does, when he does it." Ze continues to temper the praise, hir eyelid lowering over hir eyes a bit. "But. Thanks." "Right." Jax flushes deeper at the cursing, but he's still laughing as he turns aside. He pours the jars together into one, tightly lidding them and slapping a piece of tape with a label on it before sealing the jar with a second piece of tape. "Ohgosh. I should get to the train I got work -- you need anythin' else, honey-honey?" "Nope. I'm good. I'll get Mr. Suresh to lock up when I'm done, if you like. You have a good trip home and be safe out there, okay? The weather's been frightful lately." Rasa gives Jackson a little wave, then turns to hir board, whistling quietly to the birdy part of 'A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes.'