ArchivedLogs:Halloween Parade

Halloween Parade
Dramatis Personae Jackson, Daniel Bruce, Micah, Spencer
In Absentia	31 October 2013 Crowd-side at the Halloween Parade. Jax seems a little off. (Part of Infected TP.)
Location <NYC> Greenwich Village
A rather bohemian neighborhood and the East Coast birthplace of the Beat movement, Greenwich is the residential counterpart to its more punk east sibling. The Village has been a historical center for the important political movements-- landmarks such as the Stonewall Inn on Christopher street were here during the GLBT rights movement, and the Weather Underground had safehouses here during the radical anti-war movement as well. Historically a place for artists and hippies to flock, gentrification has driven up prices in the locale, causing Greenwich to now trend less bohemian and more yuppie, though the stereotype remains. The Village is /crowded/, this evening; people have been gathering since the afternoon along the parade route and by evening the throngs gathered to watch the parade have grown quite thick. The worst of the congestion is a few streets up, from Bleecker and beyond; down here nearer the start of the parade route it's /slightly/ less chaotic. Slightly. Standing by a lamppost, one small Dalek has obtained himself a better vantage point; Spencer is perched on his father's shoulders, the dotted blue skirt that composes the lower half of his costume tucked behind Jax's head so as not to obscure his sight. The death ray on his helmeted head even has a little glowing light in it. Beneath the eight-year-old, Jax is less colourful. Entirely in grey from hair to skin to clothes to the large stony-looking wings that protrude behind him, he stands very! very still. There doesn't even appear to be a lot of movement from his eyes -- though they've gone entirely blank-slate grey as well; pupilless, it's hard to really track their movement. "That /dog/ is Harley Quinn!" Spencer points, rather delighted with this. "How come Obie doesn't have a costume?" "-- Maybe Obie has a costume," Jax's thick Southern drawl is cheerful, entirely at odds with the somewhat contorted stone-grey expression on his face. "But he's out with the pups at school so you'll hafta ask them t'take a picture, if he does." Daniel is wearing a costume. That's what he'll tell you if you ask him, even if it's rather hard to tell. Among all the awesome detailed costumes, he's just wearing a pair of fuzzy cat ears and otherwise dressed much as he almost always is. Not even a tail. Not exactly a prize-winning costume, but, hey, at least he tried. Not exactly the tallest guy in Manhattan, he drifts along trying to find a decent vantage point from which to watch the parade go by, occasionally practicing an expression of mild annoyance that no one will let him sneak in closer to the street so he can see. "Obie would make a wonderful K-9," Micah observes in a well-executed English accent. An accent imitating David Tennant imitating an English accent, to be exact. It matches his Tenth Doctor brown pin-striped suit, tie, and ridiculously spiky-mussed hair (that his hair seems /meant/ for this really might have been the reason he chose this particular costume). He has a toy sonic screwdriver in one hand and demonstrates its working lights and sound rather frequently, pointing it at random things and pushing the button. Currently, he has it aimed at Jax and Spence. "It occurs to me that you both may try to kill me at any moment." There is an impish /smile/ with this assertion, as if that news were just /fun/. Or maybe a challenge. Jackson just freezes, stone-still again when Micah looks at him. Spencer swivels his head, though, pointing his death ray straight at Micah. His, "Ex-ter-minate," is not quite as robotic as it maybe should be, what with his giggling command, "-- Pa /laser him/. ... no wait don't really laser him not like /for real/, just with the lights okay?" His fingers scrunch down against Jax's grey hair, using /it/ as a handhold as he swivels around, looking for other targets. Jax grimaces. Spencer's death-ray points at Daniel as he pokes his way through the crowd. "Ex-ter-min/ate/." This time it comes with a pat at Jax's head. Like, /mush/! The light in Spencer's deathray glows brighter. Daniel looks up just in time to see The Littlest Dalek pointing a death ray at him and calling for his extermination. For just a second, the young man freezes in place, no expression at all, and then he seems to come to a decision, as he just gives a goofy grin up at the kid, then rolls his eyes and sticks out his tongue in an overdone 'ack, I am dead' kind of expression. "Spence, honey, careful. Your pa's hair's attached t'his /head/ still. Slack up on the reins a bit," Micah falls, quite discordantly, out of his assumed accent and back into his usual southern-Virginia war against enunciation. His look to Daniel is, at first, mildly apologetic, easing straight into amusement when the man plays along. "Think y'got 'im," he calls up to the adorable little killing machine. "Uh oh not the /real/ laser, right?" Spencer does slacken his grip, tipping his head down to look at Jax but then lifting it again before the stick of the deathray pokes Jax in one of his blank grey eyes. "No, honey-honey, no real lasers shootin' around in crowds that ain't hardly responsible death ray use is it?" Jax scrubs a hand through his hair once it is not being /pulled/ on quite so much. "Hi! You wanna --" He offers Daniel a warm smile somewhat incongruous with his attire, and gestures one hand in front of himself, clearly offering a space nearer the road to the older man. "-- My hair /was/ attached t'my head," he corrects Micah with amusement. "'fore he tore it all out." Daniel blinks in obvious surprise at the invitation. "Oh. Oh! Could I? Thanks.. I'm, err- I'll duck down.", he apologizes, as he ducks through the crowd to move towards the offered spot. "You'd /know/ if it was a real laser, honey. Ain't nobody laserin' folks tryin' t'enjoy a parade," Micah concurs with Jax. "It's easier t'see /not/ behind a Dalek stacked on Weepin' Angel." He giggles, stepping aside to make movement easier for Daniel, as well. "Pshaw, sure it's been tugged harder without fallin' out b'fore," he assures Jax, one corner of his mouth climbing upward in an impish smirk. "Sure," Spencer affirms Jax's offer magnanimously, even leaning down again to tell Daniel, "You can have my seat too if you like." Jax snorts, patting at one of Spencer's legs. "That's kind'a you, darlin', but s'only so much being-a-chair my shoulders can /take/. "Who are you?" Spencer asks Daniel next, peering curiously at the cat ears. And, in case Daniel didn't know, "-- My dad's the Doctor." He beams at Micah proudly with this announcement. Daniel is too happy that he has a decent view of the parade now to really notice some of the comments mentioned, but when Spencer speaks, he pauses and looks back up. "Oh, hey. The Doctor sounds like a fine dad to have. I'm Daniel. My dad's a shoe salesman," he explains, with a sheepish grin. Micah laughs outright at Spence offering his seat to a grown man. “Please don't break your pa. We'll /prob'ly/ need 'im around for more'n bein' sat upon eventually.” He closes the gap between himself and Jax and Spencer once Daniel has passed by, bonking his head gently against the side of Jax's shoulder. “Only the Doctor for t'day, unfortunately. Sure your dad gets to be somethin' other than a shoe salesman for t'day, too, if he wants,” he explains to Daniel. "My dad is a /foot/ salesman," is Spencer's next contribution to the conversation. "He makes all the best foots. -- Pa do we have water?" "Pfft what am I good for 'cept bein' comfty furniture?" Jax drops a hand, patting at the outside of his robes. "Thought I did. Might be losin' my mind." He lifts his hand back to scritch absently at Micah's chin after that headbonk. "You think it's bad here you should see what the crowd's like up by 14th. Can't hardly /move/. Specially not with giant wings on, I think you went the right route. Easy to slip through the crowds. You been down to the parade afore?" Daniel gives a soft chuckle as he watches the others. "No, my dad, he...well, he wasn't too into dressing up on Halloween," he explains, then looks back out to the parade as he answers the last question. "Yeah, first one. Missed it first year I came here, then, y'know...last year, with the storm. So...this year's my first," he says, and then glances back at the trio. "It's pretty cool, huh?" “I promise that's less creepy'n it sounds. He means I make prostheses. Sometimes they're feet.” Micah giggles at the clarification. “Might could think of a few uses for you,” he muses at Jax with a purely innocent tone, regarding him with an assessing eye. He nuzzles into the scritchings. “Like this. This is a good use.” His hand reaches blindly into the messenger bag on his shoulder (blue and decorated to look like the TARDIS), withdrawing a water bottle and passing it up in the general direction of Spencer without turning his head. "To each their own, I guess, but I don't understand how s'even possible /not/ t'be into Halloween. S'basically the best time'a year." Jax's shoulders slowly shift beneath Spence's seat, and he holds on to Spencer's leg as Spence reaches down for the water bottle. Taptaptap, at the boy's knee. "What d'you say?" "Oh right, thank you." Spence takes a deep swig of water. Jax lifts up a hand for it. "Y'mind passin' the --" He hesitates, hand dropping back to his side with a small frown, a small shiver. "Um -- the water. Could use some -- water." Spencer passes the bottle obligingly. "He could be a nightlight," he suggests, by way of Jax-uses. "Oh, he don't usually have a problem finding uses for me," Jax assures cheerfully, stopping to gulp at the water. “S'pretty much guaranteed fun. Food or parties or costumes or candy or parades...hard not t'find /somethin'/ t'like.” Micah nods at Spencer's belated thanks. “'Welcome.” His brows furrow, his attention more on Jax than the boy, however, as he stumbles through remembering things again. “Y'feelin' alright, honey? Need me t'take Spence? Think...maybe tonight needs t'be a /sleepin'/ night.” "Food /and/ costumes /and/ candy /and/ parades," Spencer corrects. "I got /all/ those. But --" He drops forward slightly, arms curling around Jax's forehead, "you can both share all my candies I got a lot." "I'm --" Jax lowers his gaze, blank grey eyes tipping down towards the water bottle. "Yeah I just -- it's -- getting cold maybe." "I'm not cold." Spencer shakes his head and reaches down, making grabbyhand for the water again. "Dad, do you want water?" He takes another sip, then offers the bottle to Micah. "Pa says when we're hiking any time someone drinks everyone has to drink." "That's for hiking." Jax shakes his head quickly, and tips his head back to grin up at Spencer. "But it /is/ a good rule most any time. Hydration is happiness." "Nu-uh," Spencer protests. "Candy is." “Some people like more'n one,” Micah concedes with a chuckle. “That's sweet, hon.” He kisses Spencer's knee because that's what he can /reach/. “Ha. Literally.” He does take the bottle from Jax, drinking from it before storing it back in his bag. He brushes his fingers over the other man's wrist as he collects the bottle to get a quick feeling of whether he's his usual too-warm temperature. “Some people got more'n one way t'/happy/, too. S'a good way t'be.” "What are your ways?" Spencer stays hunkered down, clinging to Jax's head, sort of half-watching the tail end of the parade and half-watching Micah. Jax is fiercely warm to the touch, rather moreso than his usual; the high level of heat radiating from him probably has something to do with /Spencer's/ lack of cold, at least. "Mmm? Ways?" "To happy," Spencer explains patiently, looking back to Micah. "What ways to happy?" “Jax-honey, why don't you let me take Spence for the end an' the walk home?” Micah stuffs his sonic into a pocket and reaches up for Spence, hoping the boy will take the initiative to transfer over. “S'too many t'count. Lotsa things are happy, don't y'think?” His tone remains light and cheerful, despite the increasingly concerned look he is aiming at Jax. “Y'feelin' dizzy, hon?” Spencer unhooks his arms from around Jax's head, reaching out towards Micah instead. "Uh huh. Lots of things." Jax stays hanging on to Spence until the boy finds a stable grip. "S'a whole lota things make for happy," he agrees. "But the parade's endin' we should get back. Tonight I gotta --” He stop short, brows furrowing slightly. "Sleep. It was sleep t'night, right?" Micah collects Spence, hoisting him up on his own shoulders. “Yes, it is,” he confirms of the parade, sounding grateful. “An', yes, y'gotta sleep. As soon as we get home it's bedtime for /everybody/. An' you're makin' an appointment at Common Ground if you're still feelin' off in the mornin', Jax.” Micah's tone is insistent as he guides them back toward home and bed.