ArchivedLogs:Family Planning

Family Planning
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Isra, Micah, Jax	12 December 2014 '
Location <NYC> {Geekhaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
There's an open airy feel to the floorplan of this unit. The door opens up into a wide expanse of common space that is not so much divided up into rooms as it is simply multipurposed. Ash-grey resin flooring underfoot runs up against the paler grey of the exposed stone in the walls; between the stone support there are wide floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the river on one side of the home and the Commons' central yard on the other. Half of the space has a ceiling at one-floor height, though half of the space is left open with a balcony up on the second floor overlooking the living space below. A slatted stairway heads up to the second floor balcony; on the other side of the room, a fireman's pole running straight down the the basement provides a quicker way /down/. The wide open space here is combination living and dining room; near the windows there are a pair of couches and large armchair around a wide coffeetable; further off a steel-and-glass dining table is surrounded by eight tall black chairs. A full bathroom behind the stairway is done up in dark granite; the glass-doored bathtub/shower is rather expansively large. The kitchen is tucked off in back, beneath the half-height ceiling; in here the appliances and cabinets and shelving recessed into the wall are in brushed steel, wide grey sweeps of tempered glass countertops running around the edge of the room and a large central island holding stoves and oven and deep double sink. Adjacent to the kitchen, beneath the ceiling as well, is a sitting area structured largely around the enormous television against one wall, a wealth of video games for a number of consoles held on the shelves around the television. Crates and beanbags and one low futon folded against the floor are arranged in good viewing distance; opposite the television, a sturdy large pen built out of wood shrines a couch amid a sea of brightly colorful playpen balls. A door in one wall opens up to the apartment next door; a door opposite leads down to the basement. Geekhaus is quiet. Hive is /mostly/ quiet, these days; he doesn't leave bed, much, and that's /probably/ where he is, though who knows. The basement door is closed. There's dinner laid out on the /actual/ dining table, for once -- Lord only knows the last time it was used so properly, usually covered in textbooks or blueprints or roleplaying books or board games. But today there's plates set out in proper place settings, even if the styrofoam Ethiopian takeout containers laid out in the center kind of take away from the formal vibe. Dusk isn't actually touching his food. Perched at one of the chairs at the table that's clearly been designed for someone with wings, seated tall to match the tall table but low-slung at its back in contrast to many of the tall-backed ones that go with it, he is not, currently, even looking at the food, not looking at the /house/ but focused out on the tall floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the river. In the nighttime dark the windows mostly reflect the indoors back at them; the river beyond is mostly only visible as an odd shimmer in the background. He's dressed, today, black cargo pants, a black wrap shirt, Zoo York sweatshirt over top, Vans sneakers, heels pulled up onto the edge of his chair and his elbows resting on his knees. Atop his wings his claws twitch restlessly. A second wing-friendly chair contains Isra, who, though considerably less fidgety than her lover, likewise does not display much interest in her meal. Her long-fingered hands are wrapped around an ancient chipped NASA mug, steaming and redolent of strong black coffee. Her skin this week is a pale violet tiger-striped with leaf green, the effect of the contrast suggesting some sort of aposematic warning. Her outfit is plain by comparison, a slinky black wrap dress whose long straps form an X across her flat, muscular chest. She wears long black arm warmers and legwarmers, each exposing heavy talons painted a purple-green multichrome. A black camera bag sits between her place setting and Dusk's. Micah has been a whirlwind of activity today. The fact that he has only recently returned home from collecting Jack from Xavier's is betrayed by his slightly damp-spiked hair, not entirely dried from his quick shower. He has costume-changed into a purple and blue plaid flannel button-down over a navy henley and lined jeans. In a slight reversal from the usual, he is standing behind and pushing his neon green wheelchair, with Jax sitting in it. The kids apparently got to this chair as much as they did to Hive's: it is covered in blue and white EL wire. Kinda glowy. He lifts one hand long enough to offer a small wave as he delivers Jax closer to the table. Jax is less neon-bright than his chair is. In pajamas, soft purple yoga pants and black tank top with his rainbow colour-blocked sweatshirt on over top. His lack of his typical makeup tends to make him look washed-out on a /normal/ day; today his pallor looks practically corpselike. He gives Dusk and Isra a smile, though, that is considerably warmer than his pallid complexion is. "Hey, y'all. Oh, gosh, y'got food an' everything." He sits up a little bit straighter in the chair, fingers curling in against its arms. "How're y'doin'?" Dusk's head turns sharply at the others' entrance. His wings twitch again at his back, and he sits up straighter as well. "Uh -- yeah. I -- there's. Lentils and -- collards and. Chickpeas." Though what's in front of /him/ is just raw beef. One wing hitches up at the question. "Feel like it's a more pertinent question for you. Heard you got perforated /pretty/ good." "Good evening, gentlemen." Isra rises and moves a chair away from the table to make room for Jax,. "I am as well as can be expected at the end of a drizzly, cloudy week." She does not immediately resume her seat. "Might I fetch you any beverages?" Her wings are folded tight against her back, and her tail sways slow and regular. Micah offers a greeting smile to the others once he has Jax situated at the table. “Hi. Ohgosh, thanks for gettin' all this t'gether. S'there anythin' still needs doin' I can help with?” He is doing his best to give Dusk some space and not just pounce-hug him like he wants to. His hands move to rub gently at non-injured portions of Jax's shoulders. “Was pretty bad. I got Joshua outta bed an' ev'rythin'.” There's a flush that dusts Jax's cheeks at the mention of Joshua, his eye lowering briefly to his lap. "Yeah, I got kinda. Perforated. I'm aright with jus' water, thanks. You know, it was. Someone with arrows, same as when y'all -- though, guess that ain't actually so uncommon since the zombies done come." Water, at least, is on the table already; Dusk doesn't gesture at it so much as look at it when he reaches for his own glass of blood. He shakes his head and Micah's question, looking away from the others and to the camera bag. "Just talking, I guess." After which he falls silent. Isra sinks a bit lower, still hesitating a moment before lowering herself gracefully into her chair. There is a studied calm in her bright green eyes as she watches Jax. "You have been missed at school, as I am sure you have been made aware." She picks up her coffee again and sips at it delicately. "If you do not feel well enough as yet to address this matter, we might assuredly table it for another day." "Talkin'. Right." Micah settles into his own chair at Jax's side. "Can I...before we get started, that is. I wanted t'apologise. I think I've been...accidentally makin' things worse with this whole situation. I didn't mean..." His head shakes, cutting off that particular line. "I misapprehended exactly what was goin' on. In the conversation when Dusk was tellin' me 'bout the egg for the first time. Think I caught 'im at a particular part of his processin' where he was just thinkin' 'bout what it'd be like for 'im t'raise a kid? An'...that's where /I/ got stuck. That the whole choice was really just whether or not y'all felt up t'raisin' a kid yourselves. So when I asked Jax if he'd be willin', if y'all wanted, for us t'do that part. I thought I was helpin'. Just makin' more options. I didn't realise there was...more to it. An' I think y'tried t'tell me after an' I just didn't see it. So I'm sorry. For makin' things worse. It's the opposite of what I'd meant t'do." His teeth dig into his lower lip, gaze catching on Dusk. "Please understand, that you're the most important thing t'...just the most important thing. I want whatever's best for you all, whatever y'decide that is. An' I wanna support you however y'need. I love you." His shoulders lift a little, expression a shade sheepish. "Ah...also apologies for the monologue. Needed t'make sure. Whatever else we decide t'talk about or not t'night. Needed t'make sure I said that." "Been missin' school, too. But I'm doin' okay. I mean, for talkin'. Ain't exactly gonna be headin' off t'Fight Club after, but talkin' I can do." Jax remains quiet, through Micah's apology, his gaze lifted across the table to look at the others. "I think the important thing," he says when Micah is done, "is jus' that in alla this what we want -- is jus' t'make sure that whatever y'all need, whatever's gonna be the most help for you, is what takes priority here. An' that's all we're here for is -- jus'. To support you however we can. So I think we jus' want to know most of all how you're both feelin' an' what it is you need." Dusk doesn't look back at the other men. His wing curls out, brushing lightly against Isra's, but his eyes are just focused on the kitfo on the table in front of him. Twitch, twitch, /twitch/, his thumbclaws flick harder, head giving a very small shake. "I already told you what we decided," is all he says to all this. His hands fold together, fingers lacing against one shin. "I think we just need to figure out what that's all going to look like. If you guys are still. Okay with it." Isra's eyes flick to Micah and remain on him, steady and piercing. Her wing presses back against Dusk's, and the tips of her own talons tense. At last she looks down, as though searching for answers in the black depths of her coffee cup. "Our needs in this regard, to the best of our ability to ascertain, are beyond anyone's powers to meet." The tone of her dual voice is flatter even than usual. "Your needs, however, are also highly relevant now." “Okay. We just wanted t'make sure that we...that /I/ didn't drive y'to a decision that y'wouldn't've made otherwise. It wasn't my intention t'do that. But if this /is/ what y'both want, we want t'do this for you.” Micah's brow furrows, head tilting at Isra's phrasing. “If y'don't mind...what d'you mean? What is it that you're needin'? Even if we can't help it'd be useful t'know.” He nods at the second statement in simple affirmation. “Of course. If we're doin' this, we're willin' t'provide a home an' family an' all that entails for the kiddo, when it gets here. We'd need t'know what degree of involvement y'all would want with that. If it's none, I understand that. If it's...some sort of a joint agreement? That seems reasonable, as well.” Pausing, he lifts his water glass to wet his throat. “But the reason we keep askin' what /you/ all need is...part of what /we/ need /is/ you. You're /our/ family. Whatever y'wanna be t'this...kid...not-kid. Egg. Whatever. I don't wanna lose /you/ over it. You're more important.” Jax's teeth wiggle at a lip ring, scraping slowly against his lower lip. "Still okay with it," he allows slowly, "but it's --" He hesitates, hand turning out towards Micah. "Important. That -- /that/. I been feelin' kinda like you already been pullin' away some an' -- an' I /know/ it's been a /time/ right now so I don't want to assume -- nothin'. But I just. Don't want to -- I /can't/ go through with this if it's going to mean havin' this kid in my life at the expense of havin' /you/ all out of it. I love you an' I need that, first. Need to know. That whatever -- whatever it ends up lookin' like with whatever involvement you want to have in /their/ life you ain't gonna be out of ours. Cuz I can't. Have that." He takes a deep breath, finally ceasing the wiggling at his lip ring. "Past that I think I jus' need a clear sort of -- structure. A picture of how much involvement -- or not -- y'all /do/ want in this kid's life. An' at the least some kinda --" He stops, pausing to consider his next thought. "... mutant kids often got no end'a health issues an' plain genetics means s'likely we might need advice, time to time, at the least, that you may be better equipped than us t'help with. Probably gonna want to sit down with a doctor later on from the Clinic an' -- try an'. Get a idea of maybe what we might could expect." Dusk's hands run slowly up along his shins, running up high enough that his elbows finally come to rest on his knees. His head drops to rest in his hands, face buried against his palms. "I /don't/ want --" he starts, trailing off. "I...." His fingers scrunch into his hair, face flushing as his palms press now to his forehead. One hand drops, fist circling against his chest. "I think I've just wanted to not think about any of this." Slowly his legs drop back to set his feet properly on the floor. His wings settle down, droopy at his back, his hands falling into his lap. "... you're always going to be family. That's not changing. I'm just. Not. In a position to be a caretaker for a kid. But I -- I don't expect if we're in your life there'll be much /hiding/ that we're all family. Unless the kid is miraculously born looking somehow -- I mean, I have a feeling it'll be pretty evident." "What I want is for this to have never happened at all, but of course that is quite absurd and not something that even bears consideration." By the curve of her mantled wings, Isra manages to look hunched even though she is sitting quite straight. "Beyond that, however, I have no one goal to point to. This," she indicates the egg with tilt of her head, "lies far outside of both my emotional capacities and intellectual expectations, yet some incomprehensible interaction of biology and psychology has rendered me powerfully attached to its well-being." She takes a long pull at her coffee, and seems to gather herself as if strengthened by the brew. "As Dusk said, I think it quite improbable that we should succeed in separating ourselves wholly from your lives, nor do I find that a desirable proposition. I shall of course provide any assistance you might desire, whether material, physical, or..." Her hairless brows furrow lightly. "...emotional, as little qualified as I feel in that arena." “Okay,” Micah says simply, setting his glass down again and playing his index fingertip through the condensation on its side for a moment. “Okay. Just.../already/ been missin' you...bein' here. S'far as bein' caretakers, I don't /expect/ nothin' from y'all. If you're wantin', we can do a full legal adoption an' be the sole legal guardians. That's fine. Then whatever level of...advice or assistance or whatever it is y'wanna offer can be up t'you. Though like Jax says, havin' some input from y'all from a medical standpoint'd be preferred. As well as...if the kiddo ends up with any abilities that present similar t'yours. Y'all might be the best source of advice for us on that, havin' been through it yourselves.” His hand drops to a napkin by his plate, scrunching at it to dry his fingers. “I've seen all manner of family arrangements where the biological parents're present but not the legal guardians or primary caregivers. S'usually...the parents or siblin's of the bio-parents take over for whatever reason. An' sometimes the kids still refer to the bio-parents as mom or dad, or sometimes they shift those titles t'the primary caregivers. Sometimes the bio-parents move into the role of aunt or uncle or siblin', even...usually for young-teen moms that I've seen that one. I'm sure we could put t'gether somethin' y'all'd be most comfortable with there.” Micah continues to toy with the napkin beyond the point that he really needs for drying. “S'far as financial assistance, again... /I'd/ be most comfortable with whatever /you/ feel is appropriate? We're in a stable situation there, an' I'd feel...odd. Requestin' child support or whatever when this was my idea. But if y'wanted t'set up, like, a trust fund or somethin' that'd surely be your prerogative. I understand that...desire t'protect an' provide for 'em even if it isn't in as much of a hands-on way.” He has been glancing to Jax periodically throughout this to determine his thoughts, not really having had the chance to discuss any of the details in advance. Jax relaxes, visibly, at these assurances, nodding quietly to these answers. "Okay. Thank you. /Money/ things I ain't so much concerned about it's -- was more in the way of. What kinda emotional an' -- more day-to-day involvement y'all was interested in. Outside'a the actual potential for needin' to talk about health issues I ain't lookin' at it so much as needin' assistance as just -- wanting to know what's your comfort level with it all. But -- I don't expect we need to iron that out one hundred percent immediately, neither. The most important thing to me was just making sure you was still gonna be in our lives an' -- the rest we can work out." "College fund. Trust fund. Man. Yeah. It'd be good to. Make sure they'd be -- taken care of. Just -- no matter what." Dusk pushes out a slow breath. He finally pulls the tray of kitfo towards himself, scooping some of the raw beef onto his plate. He doesn't /touch/ any of it, but at least that's progress towards actual Dinner. "... Dad." He tests this word out, a small shiver running through his wings. One wing flexes again, pressing back up against Isra's; his cheeks puff back out on another huff of breath. "Wow. OK. Yeah. We're. Not. Going anywhere. The rest we can -- work out."