ArchivedLogs:High School Reunion

High School Reunion
Dramatis Personae Jax, Micah, Banshee, Sugar	24 October 2014 '
Location <XS> Stables
The distinctive smell of hay and sawdust and horses greets visitors to this large barn, kept well-tended by the stablehand and those who have a passion here for equestrianism. The horses at Xavier's are well cared for, stabled in comfortable stalls. The walls host a plethora of tack for those who wish to take a jaunt around the grounds. It's cool and crisp and definitely fall-like, a chill to the air with the sun only fresh in the sky. Across the grounds /at/ the mansion there's a general morning /bustle/, flocks of students and teachers alike hastening between dorms and showers and the array of breakfast items prepared in the kitchen, working on last-minute homework (or last-minute grading), getting some morningtime practice in while the gym is relatively empty. Out here, though, there's a different atmosphere. Quiet, peaceful, no clamour of chattering or eating or rushing about to get ready on time. There are noises, for sure; soft whickering and the occasional swish of tail or rustle of hay being chomped. Off in the back there's feeding noises, too, more /unfamiliar/ to general horse-diets, the rend-tear of fresh meat being hungrily devoured. Jax is back here, a wheelbarrow beside him half-filled with soiled shavings and manure from an empty-open stall beside him; the pitchfork leaning up against the wall suggests that he /has/ been mucking but, at the moment instead, he's leaning against the door to the stall across the way. From the entrance of the stables it's not entirely possible to /see/ the creature inside but closer inspection finds his companion to be not a horse at all but an enormous horse-sized dragonfly, brilliant metallic blue and currently making a hungry breakfast of raw chunks of venison. Jax himself is about as colourful as the dragonfly -- he doesn't /look/ entirely /dressed/ for stable-cleaning duty, silver-glittered black skinny jeans and knee-high silver boots that oddly do not have a speck on them, a brightly rainbow-coloured sweatshirt over a purple-and-blue top, metallic blue makeup on his eyes and glittering silver nailpolish. Huge dark glasses cover his eyes, and his hair matches his shirt in bright peacock hues. He's sipping, at the moment, from a thermos, taking a small break from working to just relax in the quiet peace of the... carnivorous monster dragonfly stall. Micah's wandering has a hint of purpose to it, not a lot of speed but a clear direction to his steps. He actually looks put together this morning, auburn hair neatly combed under his newsboy cap, robin's egg blue button down shirt peeking out from under an olive jacket, khakis over serviceable shoes. "Had a little time between m'meetin' an' class, so I thought I'd wander by," he announces softly before moving in next to Jax. "How's the stock for Sugar? We need t'plan another huntin' trip soon?" One of his fingerless-glove covered hands brushes fingertips along Jax's back. The other produces a teal thermos of tea from the side pouch of the messenger bag at his hip. "Oolong." Whistling. Keen and pure. The sound is coming from the direction of the mansion and growing steadily stronger - the pitch-perfect tune of 'Beer, Beer, Beer' - as a man in a tweed suit and sporting a shock of ginger hair on his head approaches the stables, his hands in his pockets. Sean Cassidy's eyebrows perk up as he notices people moving about the stalls, and he briefly lifts his sunglasses up over his eyes with a finger. He stops whistling in order to smile. "Mornin', lads!" he calls out on his way over as he takes a breath in through his nostrils and releases it through his mouth. "Oi love th' smell o' horse manure in th' mornin' - no matter what soil ye tread, 'tis ahlways th' same! Should be a law o' physics by now..." As he comes closer, his pace slows and he peers at Jax. "Jax?" he asks after a few moments. "Not that shy fella from one o' me classes all those years ago?" He glances from Jax to Micah and lifts his chin in greeting. Jax brightens -- rather literally, a faint glimmer of glow shivering in the air around him at the brush of hand. He trades his thermos for Micah's, not offering any explanation of its contents (though taking a sip will identify it as spicy-cinnamony hot chocolate.) "Think she's gonna need restockin' soon, yeah. 'tween work an' school the pups been so busy s'been hard t'--" He hitches up a shoulder, flicking fingers towards the hunks of meat. "Mebbe you could take 'em out huntin' this weekend. Be a nice break from everyone jus' stressin' over the trial an' --" His words cut off, initially just because he is taking a sip of Micah's tea but after that it is because he is looking towards the door, pierced eyebrows hitching up over the rims of his sunglasses and an automatic-polite smile curling his (also pierced) lips. "Yeah, s'real peaceful in here, I like stoppin' by before classes when --" Perhaps it's about now that recognition dawns, because his smile warms, a hint of blush darkening his cheeks. "Oh! Oh, gosh, sir, hi, yeah, it's -- yeah. That was a -- a /minute/ ago, wasn't it? Um, oh gosh," he straightens from his lean against the stall, blush darkening with a sudden hit of where-are-my-manners fluster. "Micah, this is Mr. Cassidy, he -- used t'teach here way back when. Mr. Cassidy, this is -- m'husband, Micah. He teaches here now, too. How y'been -- /where/ y'been?" The thermos swap sparks a giggle from Micah, but he readily trades containers and samples Jax's. His eyebrows raise in pleasant surprise. "I'm not sure why, but I wasn't expectin' cocoa. Spicy's perfect for a cold mornin', though." He leans in a little closer, pressing his cocoa-warmed lips to the back of Jax's neck. "Yeah, s'been kinda... Just busy an' stressful. Be good t'get 'em out an' away a bit. Make a day of it." Micah straightens at the sound of a new voice, rosy-red bleeding across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose as he turns. "Mornin', sir," he greets with a small dip of his head, fingertips to the brim of his hat. Apparently Jax's sirring is contagious. Taking a step forward, he offers a hand for shaking. "Y'used t'teach Jax?" The concept draws a fond smile across his lips. "I'm only a teacher here in a strictly technical sense. One class a term, kinda practical things that just wasn't bein' covered before. Two of our kids're here, so I guess I just kinda took the fussy parent thing to an extreme." A little shrug of his shoulders is accompanied by another soft chuckle. "Nice t'meet you." Cassidy smirks at Micah and shakes his hand happily. "Well, 'tis a school, lad - if t'ere's any place in the world for technicalities, this be it. Ye can be droppin' the 'sir' thing, though, lads. Cahll me Sean." He chuckles then turns his attention to Jax, glance back and forth between him and Micah. A hand reaches to back of his neck to give it a rub as he processes all the new information. Another short chuckle escapes the Irishman's lips. "Married? Teachin'? Ye're kiddin' me! Lookit ahll o' ye - growin' up way too fast..." The hand that had been rubbing his neck now moves to his brow to take off his sunglasses and massage his eyes. "Ah, Jaysus...I sound like me old Da - Lord rest him. I'd be offerin' ye both a drink - a real drink - in celebration, but this bein' a school 'n all... Left me beer in me other trousers." He walks a few steps further into the stables, looking about. "'Tis grand to see the place still goin' strong." "Married, teachin' -- 'n our kids are set to graduate this year, si..." Jax cuts himself off with a deeper blush, rubbing /his/ hand against the back of his neck as he gives his head a small shake. "'pologies, that's gonna be a hard habit t'break. Half m'colleagues here taught /me/ one point or other so it's --" He shakes his head again, smile still bright. "Sean. Right. Can offer y'tea or cocoa in celebration, if y'want it. It's good t'see you 'round again. This place kinda has a -- Hotel California thing goin' on, don't it? You jus' passin' through or did New York reel you back in?" "Think the growin' up too fast kinda comes with the territory 'round here, unfortunately." Micah smiles and lifts his (Jax's) thermos. "We do got tea an' cocoa. It /is/ a little bit early an' schooly for beer, y'got a point there. Maybe another time on that one." He nods along with Sean's observations. "Goodness, yeah. If anythin' it's gotta be just...growin'. Student body's been gettin' bigger since I been 'round, at least. Not that that's been terribly /long/. 'Specially compared t'present company." Cassidy hmphs. "Is me ahlright," he replies with a sardonic glint in his green eyes. "Ancient as th' stones compared to ye sprouts." His smirk suddenly fades, giving way to a puzzled grimace, then he arches one ginger eyebrow at the two younger men. "Tea 'n cocoa, ye say?" he asks tentatively as he puts his sunglasses in the breast pocket of his tweed jacket. "Not... in the same thermos, right?" He barks a short chuckle and shrugs his shoulders. "If I have th' choice o' the two... tea. Tea'd be grand." He peers past them both to look out across the school grounds for several seconds. "Was hopin' ol' Patrick - Shire horse, back in the day, were still hangin' about. He usually comes to th' sound o' me whistling... Oh, I'll be in New York awhile - lahng enough. I might return to teachin' - " and he gives Micah a rueful half-grin. "But I might be too old 'n decrepit. Still use chalkboards?" "Oh, gosh, m'fair sure I know at least /one/ teacher what thinks it's never too early for beers. But then again Logan's a little --" Jax shakes his head, nose crinkling up in a brighter grin. He takes a half-step forward, offering the thermos of oolong out to Sean. "/Jus'/ tea. Though don't knock it, I sometimes make hot cocoa with tea as a base 'stead'a milk an' it's /pretty/ delicious. Had a few chocolate chais that are pretty excellent, too." He winces, slightly, at the mention of the horse, shaking his head with a slightly sadder furrow of brow. "We -- lost a few," he says apologetically, "back last year when the -- we got hit /pretty/ hard by the zombies. 'cept for the Friesian in the third stall down now don't think we got any real draft horses still about." His hand skims up against his colourful hair, teeth scraping against his lower lip thoughtfully. "One or two'a the classrooms still got chalkboards. Mostly switched over to whiteboards, though. Though honestly I don't know what the /real/ teachers use. My classes is all fluff." "Oh, gracious, that weren't no commentary on /age/. Just on me bein' new 'round here. Jax's been 'round a sight longer'n I'm older'n him by more'n a little." The colour picks up again in Micah's cheeks, though his smile doesn't fade in the least. "Hm, no. There /are/ some good tea an' cocoa mixes, but...not this'n. Would just be odd with the oolong. There's definitely some wonderful chocolate chais out there, though." He shivers a little, sipping from the cocoa thermos after as if the reaction were just from cold, then passing the thermos back to Jax. "Were kinda horrific, that whole thing. The whole city." His head shakes rather than elaborating further, plucking up the other thread of conversation instead. "Bah. He teaches /art/. Art ain't fluff. Well, maybe fabric arts. But again, technicality." A twitch of smirk returns with that comment. "Y'might be joinin' up here again? That's wonderful. What d'you teach, usually?" Cassidy shrugs with a smirk. "Well, ye know what they say about 'fluff' - wit'out it we'd be sleepin' on flat pillows." He laughs, but soon falls quiet again as he ponders earlier comments and revelations. Opting not to pursue those particular threads, the Irishman merely nods and glances at Micah in order to reply with: "Science - well, engineering - well, acoustical engineering. And math. And geography. And piano. And combat. So..." he shrugs with yet another smirk. "Fluff, mostly - well, all 'cept piano. I imagine there'll be catch-up t' play - th' good, th' bad, and th' fluffy, hah. I'll be around. Oh - " and he reaches into a pocket to pull forth a bag of peppermint sweets. "These were for ol' Paddy, but if he's gone to that grand paddock in th' sky... might as well give them t'any other horse with a sweet tooth." "Assam," Jax adds, to the talk of tea and cocoa mixes. "Makes a /fantastic/ base for hot cocoa. Nilgiri, too. Or Darj -- I guess s'most of the Indian blacks, ain't it?" He leans back against the dragonfly's stall -- the huge beast inside is finishing up her meal, large head poking over now to nudge at Jax's shoulder as though this will make more food magically appear. In lieu of food, he lifts his hand to scritch between her multifaceted eyes. His other hand reclaims the cocoa, sipping at it, too. "Well, I definitely teach /comfortin'/ fluff, that's for sure. Art an' bakin' an' --" He pauses with a thoughtful furrow of his brow, the colour in his cheeks abruptly deepening once he comes to some conclusion. "... sex ed. All the things y'need t'weather the tough times?" His nose crinkles up, smile amused. "-- Acoustical engineerin'. I got a suspicion one'a my boys --" Here he catches himself, amends to: "One'a my kids'd be fair interested in that, eats all the science classes right up." He waves the thermos down at a nearby stall. "Zenith over there, she'll love you to /death/ you ply her with sugars." The dragonfly perks up at that last word, eying all the men outside hopefully. "Ha, I like that'n," Micah replies, the laugh genuine but...he does actually /say/ 'ha'. "Just a couple of subjects, then?" His grin widens as Jax speaks. "Oh, man, now I just want all of those. Switch off between dif'rent teas all day long. An' /those/ things are pretty much the things y'need t'weather /all/ the times." Micah's head bobs in agreement. "B pretty much breathes all things engineerin', for sure. Sounds up hir alley, at least." Sugar perking earns another light laugh, a tip of his chin in her direction. "That'n's name is Sugar, so she'll pop up any time y'mention it. Whether y'mean her or not." And as the toll for speaking her name, he snakes a hand over to give more pettings. Which are nice enough, even if they aren't food. Probably. Sipping some of the offered tea and then handing the thermos back, Cassidy glances at the other animals in the stables, and jiggles the bag of sweets playfully. He grins. Then he looks at Jax and Micah. "T'anks for that, aye. Sounds like ye've managed t'weather ahll sorts o' mishap 'n mayhem, lads. Good for ye!" He peers at Micah. "/Everyone/ wants t' teach sex-ed, wee man - if only for the fun o' makin' people squirm. And giggle." He shrugs. "Me, now they wouldn't let me teach it even after I offered. I said I'd keep it simple - 'how simple?' says they. 'Don't feck it up, an' every father with a shotgun is th' law', says I." His grin widens. "They didn't go for it, an' landed me with Economics for a semester, Jaysus... Well! I'll be off then. Sweets t' dish out, students to amaze and teachers to harass. 'Twere grand seeing ye again, Jax - an' meeting ye for the first time, Mike." As he starts walking away he calls back over his shoulder: "Tea's grand! But any time ye want a /real/ drink, lads, come find me!" and off he goes, chuckling. Sugar's mouth opens, a gentle testing nibble given to Micah's petting hand. Like a /reminder/ of where food needs to go. "You only /jus'/ ate, we sat here an' watched you, dollface." Jax doesn't let up his scritchings until Sean excuses himself; he lifts his hand to his forehead, where -- there /wasn't/ a hat before, but now a large black silver-trimmed Stetson appears just long enough for him to tip it to the other man. Then reclaim the thermos. "I do sex ed -- a little more in-depth than that," he says with a small giggle. "Y'take care, aright?" Now armed with a thermos on /both/ hands, he frowns at them briefly and then offers one to Micah at random. "Mike," he echoes, laughter still in his voice. "That don't sit right on my tongue." He settles back a little bit closer to his husband once they have the stables to themselves again, resting his chin on the other man's shoulder. "S'on your docket for t'day? -- Think Hive is due t'get. Results on his -- follow-up..." He trails off, brows knitting together. "Ain't sure who's ferryin' him though." "From what I hear, they had /trouble/ gettin' somebody t'teach it this time 'round. Jax's just lucky that way." Micah's grin pulls wide with amusement at the 'wee'. Maybe just that Sean /said/ it. Maybe that it was directed at him. It's hard to tell. "Oh no, s'this mean I'm the law now, hon? I'm the dad with the shotgun." He lifts a hand to wave as the older man makes his exit. "Nice meetin' you. Sure we'll take y'up on that'n soon enough if you're plannin' t'stay long term." He's back to giggling soon enough as Sugar mouths at his hand. "Oh, you famine-face. Y'can't fool nobody t'thinkin' y'never get fed if they was here while y'was doin' it." There is a little bunny-crinkle of Micah's nose at the repeated moniker. "Mmn. Not sure if it's better or worse'n Jim with his 'Mickey' business. An' that's me, too. Got a class this mornin', then appointments for awhile, then takin' Hive down later." "S'more'a a rifle, really," Jax muses, nuzzling in against Micah's neck. "An' you're /definitely/ the law -- 'least," he adds with a small chuckle, "/I/ listen t'you pretty good. Only but you don't need no shotgun for that." He takes another sip from the thermos, closing his eyes and then curling an arm around the small of Micah's back. "S'pose that puts me down in the courthouse once I'm through class for the day. For all the good it -- he looks half starved already. -- He calls me Jackie, too." Jax's nose wrinkles up. "But then again he calls Hive /Hivey/, ain't sure nobody else could get away with /that/." Micah's chin tips readily to the nuzzling. “Mmn. Rather think a shotgun'd get in the /way/ of things.” He nods about the courthouse, his arm slipping around Jax in turn. “We'll hafta make sure he's fed again, then. That's all.” Not that there's really much more to be helped. The thin line of his lips loses some tension before adding, “Tola totally could get away with it. Y'know, once she starts callin' anybody anythin'.” "Think when it comes t'Hive Tola could prob'ly get away with murder." Jax giggles, mooshing his face up against Micah's neck. "Though Jim's totally gonna be the shotgun-dad there." His fingers creep their way up underneath Micah's jacket and shirt as well, fiercely warm when they press against skin. His head has tipped, sunglasses (slightly smudgey, now, from the nuzzling) turned over towards one of the empty stalls. "... s'comin' up on a year now. Be Halloween, soon. Used t'be that was lots'a folks favourite holiday, 'round here. Get to be a freak an' don't nobody even notice much less care." "Pretty sure you're right on both counts," Micah agrees through his own giggles. "Mmn." His breath comes a little deeper at the hands against him, the warmth certainly welcome, as well. His other arm adds itself to the mix, fully encircling Jax's waist now and pulling him closer. "Maybe it can be again. Let folks get back into it without quite the same troubles as last year. Just...prob'ly discourage the zombie costumes now." Despite Jax's added heat, his skin shiver-shudders faintly. "I do enjoy excuses t'make pumpkin /everythin'/," Jax admits, though the amusement in his voice is a little bit strained. "Though I gotta admit I -- kinda obsessively check the news for stories'a. I mean there's still /outbreaks/ here an' there an' --" He huffs out a quiet breath, spreading his fingers against Micah's back. Brighter: "I'm thinkin' I'm gonna be the Tooth Fairy this year. S'part hummingbird, y'know. 'least in the movie. An' all pretty peacock-colours and rainbowy wings." “Mmn. Yes. Now I want pumpkin soup an' roasted pumpkin seeds.” Micah's arms squeeze a little tighter. “But that's what they are now. Outbreaks. Not whole plagues. An' we know how t'deal with it now.” Leaning in, he presses a kiss to the angle of his husband's jaw. “Think that'd be entirely up your alley. Did Spence ever decide for sure what he wants t'do? Maybe we can theme up again.” "Jack Frost," Jax answers brightly, "I'm gonna ask Tag t'help frost up a sweatshirt for him proper. But that leaves you with Sandman or Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny --" Jax pauses for a moment to consider, fingers eventually curling in against Micah's side in a playful pinch. His head tips back, happy to accept the kiss. "'less y'want t'be the Boogeyman." “Well, that's convenient.” Micah gives a tiny hint of a squeak at the goosing. “I dunno, what d'you think? Fuzzy ears? Bag full of glitter?” His counterattack consists of sliding a hand under Jax's shirt, fingertips chilly against the other man's stomach where they extend beyond the cut-off fingers of his gloves. “Not thinkin' I'm much up for the whole...shadow thing.” Jax jumps, tensing and stifling a squeak of his own at the coldhands. He doesn't pull away, though, instead pressing up more against Micah's touch. "Oh my gosh you're like a Micahsicle. Good thing y'got your own portable space heater." He touches a light kiss to Micah's lips, nose wrinkling up. "/I/ always vote glitter, c'mon. Though I'm also kinda charmed with the idea of you truckin' around with a huge snowy beard an' a sackful of goodies." Micah grins at Jax jumping. “I /do/ have one of those. Knew I kept you around for /some/ reason,” he teases, returning the kiss and adding another. “Glitter it is, then. We can get me a bunch of gold glitter an' give Spence a bunch of that sparkly white. Have a glitter fight. Everythin' shiny forever.” Yet another kiss moves to the tip of Jax's crinkly-nose. “'Sides, Spence is gonna have the goodie bag for Halloween, anyhow. S'how it's s'posed t'go.” "Ain't /only/ for the warm," Jax protests, nose still crinkled through the kiss. "I /also/ provide y'with pretty fantastic --" He pauses, fingers trailing up against Micah's back. "... cookies." His nose rubs lightly against Micah's. "... though speakin' of, I got a class t'go teach. I'm /so/ down with this everybody-havin'-glitter-fight idea, though." "Oh, I dunno. Warm cookies is nice, too." Micah's spine slips a little under the petting in a small, feline motion. "Mmn." The sound is half-pleased, half-frustrated. "Got one of those m'own self. See you t'night, honey." He steals one last kiss before releasing Jax from his hold. Jax answers the final kiss with a lingering one, deep and full. His arm tightens around Micah, briefly, then releases. "They do seem t'get in the way of --" He frowns, cheeks flushed as he takes a step back. "... cookies. Though," he adds on a brighter note, "I done left fresh spiced-up snickerdoodles in the lounge. If you're in the mood." His hand trails down to squeeze at Micah's before he turns for the exit. One of Micah's eyebrows arches, amused but somewhat skeptical. "You're /kind of/ evil sometimes, just so y'know." He smiles crookedly, squeezing Jax's hand in return before heading off to class.