ArchivedLogs:Fun Committee

Fun Committee
Dramatis Personae Shane, Micah, Daiki	31 May 2014 A very busy day.
Location <NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side
Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to plentiful artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. At night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits over the coffeehouse, accessible through a stairway in the back of the cafe. It's grown late -- technically after Evolve's closing hours, though only just. The nightclub portion of the establishment hasn't quite yet opened and the cafe has just closed down for the night (though even it holds somewhat late hours on the weekend); though the sign on the door /says/ closed the cafe isn't entirely through shutting down For Good quite yet. There's still a few scattered people /in/ the store, for one -- a young man with lime-green hair and chains clinking off his pants is just tucking his laptop away, a girl at his table still draining the last of her coffee, and in the back corner, Daiki's brows are deeply furrowed as he pores intently over his AP Physics text. Shane has, it seems, /been/ studying in between working; his Trig/Precalc book and a notebook sit over on the counter. At the moment, though, he's cleaning off tables -- a little bit slowly. There's a tired droop to his shoulders, a little bit of a sluggishness to his motions; today he's been here all day and it is starting to show in a slight end-of-day /wilt/. He's dressed neat but more bland than his usual, black trousers and a black mandarin-collared button-down, and his normally slightly sheeny skin is somewhat dull in its dryness. Micah is looking a bit of a mess; a mess that suspiciously matches the building he's currently entering. A terribly familiar lime green is splashed across his plain white T-shirt and faded bluejeans. His auburn hair has gone beyond tousled into simply messy territory, and a smudge of something grey peeks out from under it on his forehead. He looks a little long-day weary after swinging back and forth between helping Mel move and providing power chair accessible transportation for a friend. He moves in behind Shane while he's reaching out over a table, wrapping an arm around his shoulders for a half-hug. "How'd the day go, hon?" Shane's slight wilt perks right back up at his father's scent in the air, and he pauses in his table-wiping to straighten, nestling back into the hug with his gills contentedly flaring open. "You're a mess." He sounds cheerful about it, though, and cheerful too about: "Well, we didn't get bombed. How was /yours/?" Hopefully said scent isn't too terribly sweaty. Westchester is a long way to go for a shower. The hug tightens as Shane leans back into it. “Not bombed is definitely a plus. I did a lot of drivin' an' movin' about of things. A /lot/.” Micah smiles a little wearily. Shane snuggles back a moment longer, sinking happily in against Micah. "Mmm so I guess I can't rope you into sweeping or mopping?" His smile is crooked as he reluctantly pulls away, leaning forward again to continue his table-cleaning. "Are Mel and Tove all moved in? Man on the plus side it's gonna be easy as fuck for all of /us/, huh? Dusk says moving took him about as long as it took him to figure out which key went to which door. He had -- a backpack." Micah chuckles at that. “I can sweep. Point me at a broom an' dustpan.” He gives one last squeeze before releasing Shane. “Yep, they're all squared away. An' pretty much...we'll have clothes. An' what toys an' books of Spence's that've been replaced so far. Shoppin's gonna take a lot more work than movin'.” "Pa's got painting-things from your artist-friend. But that's mostly all." Shane bounces up onto his toes to peck Micah on the cheek at the agreement to help sweep, darting off for a quick moment to disappear into the back and return with a push-broom and long-handled dustpan to turn them over to Micah. Then return to cleaning the last few tables, turning their chairs up onto the tops of the tables as he goes. "Are you guys gonna, uh. Need help with anything? Like. Furniture and shit? I mean, fuck, /I'm/ gonna be broke for about the next ten years with --" He waves his hand around the coffeeshop, "-- but we're gonna have a lot of shopping too so I'm sure if you need anything we can. Pick shit up. I know with that whole Lucien thing shit got – tight." “Mmhmm. Few odds'n ends here'n there. Honestly, I never had a whole /lotta/ stuff, m'self.” Micah smiles at the kiss, then takes the broom when it's pushed into his hands. He picks a corner to start sweeping from. “Um...no. We aren't gonna need y'all t'pick anythin' up, thanks. Ion kinda gave us these watches. That were worth a ridiculous amount of money. An' insisted we take 'em. We should be good for /awhile/ now.” "... watches?" Shane just turns a puzzled glance to Micah for that, though a grin crooks wide across his face at the mention of Ion. "Man, Ion can give /me/ his time /any/-damn-day. His fucking smile --" His gills flutter open and closed once, head shaking slightly as he finishes wiping off the last of the tables, skirting around behind the bar to stash his cleaning spray. "-- Yo. Dai," he calls towards the back, "we're gonna be going soon. -- You're really outfitting your new house with watches?" “Apparently he has a whole ton of 'em? An' it's /mad/ what some people'll pay for watches, apparently.” Micah's lips twitch upward at Shane's commentary. “Yeah, he's a pretty one.” He chuckles. “That an' then some. I wasn't kiddin' about the mad amounts these crazy things're worth. Y'wouldn't b'lieve.” "Oh, I'd believe a lot of things but does that motherfucker even have a job? I was pretty sure he was like. Homeless or some shit what's he doing with --" Shane's voice raises to project as he disappears into the kitchen again, plastic crinkling as he bags up trash though with sweeping still happening for the moment he leaves the trash can out in the cafe where it is. His head pokes back out the swinging door. "-- Bling. Do you know what kinds of things you guys /are/ putting in? I don't think we've even fucking thought about furnishing yet Dai's been kind of killing himself with work he doesn't understand how to be a senior." “Not that I know of.” Micah raises a brow in Shane's direction. “I...we ain't been askin' /how/ he got 'em. Exactly.” His fingers drum against the handle of he push broom as he swishes it over the floor. “Hadn't really thought of much on m'own except how t'do up Spence's room. An' t'tell the truth, a fair amount of that we were plannin' on /buildin'/. Sure Jax's got designs on the kitchen, though. Figure we'll go wander 'bout some home goods an' furniture stores 'fore movin' happens.” "Ah, /right/. That's not super sketchy or anything. What are you gonna do /besides/ furnish your house, then?" Shane snorts, amused as he disappears into the back again, water running as he prepares a bucket for mopping the floor with. "Doug brought me a present yesterday." He sounds kind of uncertain about this once he's returned. From the back, Daiki's eyes raise from his book, though he stays quiet. “Um. Be able t'help fund raids an' all without wonderin' how we're gonna feed everybody. Pay back the loans we've taken out so far.” Micah scuff-scuff-scuffs along with the broom, moving in a pattern from one side of the room to the other. “Yeah, I talked to 'im when he was here. Some CD's of classical music, I think he said?” "{Oh my -- goddamn goatfucker} you don't really know how to be irresponsible do you?" Shane leans a little heavily against the mop handle that he drags the bucket out with, lips twitching while he stares over at Micah. "Yeah. Music. Good music. I just. The hell do you say to that? It'll make a cool soundtrack when /this/ place gets blown up, too?" “Are we /supposed/ t'be? We gotta lotta things as need payin' for. Just payin' off the loans is a /big/ deal. They weren't small. Kinda were afraid we'd be in debt /forever/.” Micah shrugs as he sweeps. “Hey...we're hopin' nothin' explodey happens. Y'got security. An' Ion said he'd have his friends keep an eye on the place, too. That'll help scare folks off, at least, I'd think.” He grins at this last. "/Yes/. Once in a while you're supposed to be. Maybe not in a huge -- ditching Spencer and going on a bender in Tijuana kind of way but I think you're allowed to set aside at least a /tiny/ bit of your maybe-illicitly gotten riches for actually enjoying life." Shane rolls his mop bucket over to the far corner where Micah started his sweeping from. "Oh, I'm not /planning/ on anything explodey. I just mean. I don't know how you fucking. Answer a -- 'hey sorry I got your building blown up' gift." A grin flits across his face too. "But I definitely won't say no to extra protection. Especially not in /pretty/ form." “Prob'ly illicitly gotten,” Micah responds with a chuckle that is more than a /little/ more amused than it is chagrined. “Not bein' in debt helps with the enjoyin' of things. S'less mad /frettin'/. We was...really worried. What we were gonna do after havin' t'pay Lucien t'fix m'brain.” He shakes his head, pausing a moment in his sweeping. “I think the gift was s'posed t'be a 'congratulations on openin' your new business' gift. Not an apology for the buildin' gift. At least from what he was sayin'.” "You are /both/ completely fucking hopeless. /I'm/ setting aside some of your crime funds for -- fun." Shane says this /firmly/. His nose wrinkles up, gills briefly fluttering. "Yeah, see, that's the problem though. /Kiiinda/ having a hard time getting /past/ the whole getting the building blown up thing. Makes things a little awkward." After a beat, he adds, quieter: "... good music, though." “Fine. You're in charge of the fun fund. We will continue to hold veto power, however.” A little snort of laughter punctuates the statement. “Yeah, it's. Kinda awkward. I been tryin' t'just stay outta his way entirely. Considerin'. Think me just...bein' around is...” Micah sighs heavily, looking down at the floor. “Messy. Apparently.” Shane lifts the mop from the water, wringing the excess from it before he starts mopping, beginning in the corner where Micah had begun sweeping. "You think maybe that's your secret mutant power? Just being /so/ appealing people lose their goddamn min --" Over in the corner, Daiki has glanced up sharply, brows raised and his lips pressed together. Shane's cheeks flush darker, head ducking in sudden contrition. "... Yeah, okay, right, no, Ba's secret mutant power is being boring as fuck anyway I think we already established that. A pathological lack of fun." "Psshht. I /had/ a mutant power. The whole touch telepathy thing? Wasn't that enough?" Micah clears the floor into a corner and sweeps the pile of dust and grit into the pan before dumping the lot into a trash can. "Oh, an' there was that time I thought Maya's power was my fault. /Plenty/ of powers for me, thanks." He blushes fiercely at the implications of Shane's suggestion and...also Daiki sitting there. "So I'm borin' now?" "That was like a cheating one I'm talking about real." Shane leans into the mop, scrubbing it against the floor. "Dream-powers are kind of badass though -- and holy shit dude your sexy thief friend just drops a boatload of cash on you out of the fucking sky and you're all I'm gonna pay off loans and put it aside for the team. I'm pretty sure /you/ just cemented that boring thing all on your own don't blame me." “Think we've pretty clearly determined that I don't got any special abilities of m'own or Sublime would've tried t'/eat/ me 'stead of put a leg on me.” Micah shudders visibly, leaning his broom and dustpan against the counter. “We /also/ just bought a house an' figured it'd be a load offa Hive's mind if we could pay off as much of that as possible, too. There's...a lotta things we done /needed/ money for an' just ain't had any 'fore this.” His lips twitch over to one side as he regards Shane with a skeptical look, leaning against the counter himself now. “I seem t'recall somebody fussin' at me over gettin' into too much danger an' spendin' too much time galavantin' about helpin' folks. Now I'm borin'. Apparently I'm not good at middle ground or there's some /serious/ standards I'm bein' held to.” Shane clicks his tongue against his teeth, cocking his thumb -- though webbed fingers don't really make for as /gun/-like a gun-shape to point at Micah as a different hand might be able to manage. "It's that first one," he informs Micah helpfully. "Middle ground. You're shitty. You know there's ways to have, well, /fun/, that don't involve getting blown up or parts lopped off? And all the galavanting about helping folks on earth you and Pa don't fucking /ever/ do jackshit for /yourselves/. You two couldn't find middle ground with a goddamn GPS. We might have to set up some kind of committee for you this summer. To instruct you. In the ways of fun and relaxation." "Hm,” Micah answers, lips pressed together. "Y'/would/ say that. We...do fun things. Playin' with Spence an' cookin' an' bakin' an' ridin' horses an' gamin'...an' your pa's doin' art things an' rock climbin' an' such when he's able. An' there's...other stuff." He just shakes his head at this. "But, fine. I'm sure we'll find more things t'get into now that we aren't runnin' ourselves completely ragged all the time. Jax bein' outta school'll be a big help all on its own. Not havin' t'/both/ work several jobs just t'get ends within /visual range/ of each other, much less meetin'...that should help, too." "Uh/huh/." Shane looks intensely skeptical of Micah's claim, though the skeptical look at least doesn't /last/ long as he's turning back to his mopping. "I got my eye on you guys. Having more time should help though, yeah. Guess it's hard to have fun when you're kind of just, uh, working yourself to the bone." He glances back to Daiki with this, though his eyes shift back to Micah with a small twitch of his lips at the thought of Other Stuff. "Hey, I wonder if they'll start Game Night back up. I guess all their games /did/ get torched, though." “Yessir,” Micah's reply comes with a sharp mock-salute. “I'm sure there's a plan to outfit the common area with a /full/ assortment of games. Dunno what funds were like for gettin' the common areas put t'gether in general. I mean, folks was wantin' entertainment systems an' such, an' those are expensive. S'pose we got the means t'be helpin' with that kinda stuff, too, if needed. S'that too borin'?” Shane's claws drum lightly against the handle of his mop as he works. Dips it, wrings it out, gets back to mopping. "Dunno," he answers finally, "I'll have to ask the committee." "You made a committee," Daiki speaks up, finally. Now /he/ sounds skeptical. "Mmhmm. You're on it. Apportioning fun to those who'd forget it otherwise." Shane's mopping is working its way towards the back, where he cranes his head down to glance at Daiki's textbook. "Though you might not be the best role model." "I'm a fantastic role model," Daiki protests, without looking up from his studying. "Taylor came by around suppertime. I engaged in six minutes and twenty-three seconds of entirely non-school-related conversation with him." He looks up at Micah, as if for approval. "Including plans for one tennis match tomorrow. See? Fun." “Who all's on this committee now?” Micah finds a seat to collapse into, somewhat boneless in his posture. “Dai's just...studious. See? Conversation. An' this is addin' more t'the total time, I'm sure.” He giggles a bit. “An' yes, tennis is fun. If y'like tennis. I don't like tennis. Too much changin' directions quickly an' back steps an'...things gettin' lobbed at you, really.” "Daiki's just obsessive and forgetting that he's already /gotten/ into college," Shane says with a small grimace. "Daiki," Daiki says patiently, "is just trying to hold on to the valedictorian spot that he currently has by a small fraction of a point." 'Obsessive,' Shane mouths. "And B's gonna be on this committee too." He considers this for a moment before deciding, "Probably Flicker. Maybe Horus. Possibly Ion. Tennis is a crock of bullshit. Fencing is way more elegant.” “Okay, it sounds like that team can at least rein /you/ in pretty well. Dunno 'bout Ion, though. He strikes me as havin' pretty wild definitions of fun.” Micah shakes his head again, fingers raking through his hair. “Tennis is perfectly nice for those as enjoy it. Dai does tennis /and/ fencin'! Just look at all that fun he's havin'.” He offers Daiki a small, conspiratorial wink with this. "That," Shane says cheerfully, "is why Ion's /on/ this committee. And Dai does whatever the fuck looks good on his college applications. I don't even know how the fuck he's going to /know/ what to do with his life now that he's gotten /in/ and he can't use that metric to choose." "I'll do whatever looks good on a resume, of course," Daiki answers, prompt and deadpan. "He's off the fucking fun committee," Shane grumbles, shoving his mop back into the bucket once he's reached the last corner to walk on tiptoes with his wheeled bucket across the damp floor back towards the kitchen. "Hive was here earlier too. He was working on some building plans all /top secret/ I wasn't allowed to see." A bark of laughter answers Daiki's rapid-fire reply. “Somehow that outcome doesn't surprise me.” Micah's eyebrows tick upward in interest at the mention of Hive's top secret plans. “Hm. I'm afraid I got no idea what those are, then. Don't think he's told me 'bout any top secret designin' he's up to.” "Hmph." The lights in the kitchen shut off; Shane emerges with the kitchen's bag of trash in one hand, stopping to tie off and claim the trash bag from the cafe, too, pulling the new bag into place before he hefts the full one in his other hand. "-- Alright, Dai, tear youself away from physics we're go -- oh, fuck, /my/ textbooks." He frowns at his studying, abandoned on the counter. "Ba, can you teach me math tomorrow. I'm really fucking hopeless and it's my /first/ goddamn exam." “Think we've got y'covered between me'n B provided you're at least able t'identify what it is y'need help on,” Micah answers with a nod. “This won't be havin' a negative impact on my fun-havin' assessments, though, will it?” "Need help not being a fucking moron." Shane mutters this under his breath, heading back to the counter to retrieve his backpack from behind it, shoving his books into it and swinging it onto his back before he picks the trash bags back up. Daiki has packed up his things in the meantime, stifling a yawn as he gets stiffly to his feet, stretching and slipping his messenger bag onto a shoulder. "Can you make math fun?" he wonders as he wanders towards the door, waiting by it. “You're not a moron, stop that. I just meant specific things you're havin' trouble understandin'. So we know what t'help with.” Micah shrugs at Daiki. “I can try t'make it more interestin', but fun for someone who /usually/ doesn't like it, when we're on a deadline might be...a bit of a tall order.” Shane shoos the others out the door once he's lugged the trash bags over towards it, closing the door again behind them so that he can set the alarm before heading out himself. He locks the door up behind them, pausing in the alley outside to thunk his head down against the glass. "I think right now what I need help with is sleep," he says with a laugh. "I've had about seven million espressos today and it's still not enough." “Can do. Y'all can nap out in the van while I drive y'home if y'want.” Micah jingles his keys in his hand as he leads the way off to Lucille. “An' sleep can be waitin' at home, as well. Tutorin' for tomorrow. Don't do no good t'try t'learn t'day if you're too sleepy t'pay attention.” Shane detours briefly off to the side so that he can toss the garbage into the large dumpsters, but then attaches himself to Daiki's side for the walk, leaning heavily up against the taller boy. "I think he's halfway to sleep already," Daiki replies with a quiet laugh. "Thank you. For the ride back." “You're welcome. S'right on the way home for me. At least for just a little bit longer.” A small smile tugs at Micah's lips at the reminder. This puts a small smile on Daiki's lips, too. His arm curls tighter around Shane's shoulders. "Just for a little bit."