ArchivedLogs:Hormone Soup

Hormone Soup
Dramatis Personae Micah, Melinda	6 February 2014 Checking in with Mel.
Location <NYC> Melinda's Apartment - Lower East Side
The apartment is composed of four bedrooms, two baths, a living room and an entry space attached to the kitchen, near the door. That kitchen is covered in tile, from floor to countertop to back splash on the wall, all white, with light, thin blue stems and flowers. The cabinets are newish, with blond wood kept meticulously clean of fingerprints. It is also outfitted with an excellent coffee maker, or two, with all the accoutrement to go with it. The living room is mainly furnished by found pieces, two chairs and a couch. None of it was constructed at the same time, but it all has been reupholstered with the same cloth, the surfaces colored similarly and with a regular weave. The wood has all been refinished as well, dark and able to hide stains well. The walls are colorful, but that goes with the territory of having a mutant roommate with Tag's ability. Today, it is a sage green with some abstract blue and orange intermingling in different places. Tomorrow it will be different. A cursory inspection shows that five people live in this four bedroom apartment, so it's difficult to pick out what belongs to any one person. The three quick raps come with an uneven, cheerful tempo at Mel's apartment door. Knock. Knockknock. As promised via text, Micah is standing outside with a pleasant herby-smelling takeout bag. His hat and gloves are already stuffed in his pockets, candy-corn striped scarf hanging loose and unwound around his neck, olive puffy coat unzipped. Beneath is his Batsignal hoodie over a T-shirt, though this is zipped too high to see what is on it, and a pair of faded jeans. His hair is partly spiked from air-drying after his after-work shower, partly mussed from being under a wool hat. Mel opens the door somewhat soon after the knocking, dressed in large, comfortable sweats, looking like she's had a hell of a day. Her eyes are red and her skin, pale. Her hair is still braided from this morning, but the hair framing her face is a mess. She gives a shy little smile and opens the door, letting him inside. "Hi, Micah. Come on in. Hope it wasn't too terrible out there." "Hi, hon. Hug's on delay on account of full arms," Micah informs as his brow furrows just /slightly/ when he notes the redness to Mel's eyes. He holds the take-out bag in front of him in one arm, his other arm staying tucked behind his back. "Saigon pho. I got pretty much...just all the garnishes. Because that's half the fun." Once he has placed the bag on the table, he produces the box tucked behind his back, decorated in the familiar Happy Cakes colours and logo. "There's also cupcakes, but I know better than to introduce the desserts until after the other food when y'got a baby helpin' t'make your food choices for you. Got a tin of Jax's caramel apple cinnamon cookies in m'bag, too." He moves into the kitchen to deposit the box on a countertop. Digging into his messenger bag, he fetches a small tin and sets it alongside. Arms unloaded, he returns to offer that hug again. "How've you been, sugar?" Melinda closes and locks the door behind Micah when he enters, following him unerringly into the kitchen when he heads that way, almost like a lost puppy. "Oh. Up and down. You're the baby expert. You know how it goes." She does go in for the hug the second time it is offered, hugging him tight for a long while. "Good and bad today. Kind of tired of it." She pulls away at length, one arm staying around him. "How about you?" "Oh? Just the pregnancy itself...or the hormones at this stage...or other things?" Micah gives Mel's shoulders a little squeeze before releasing the hug. "I've been...surprisingly good, on the whole. Had some good news lately. Met a couple of folks with special abilities that might be able t'help us find some of our folks as've been missin' an' we had no better way of lookin' for 'em before. So...kinda antsy-happy-hopeful about that." His hand circles gently between Mel's shoulder blades as he steps back. "Why don't you have a seat an' let me get the food out. An' if y'want me t'fetch a drink? Y'spend enough time on your feet at work, I'm sure." "Only worked a short shift this morning," Melinda admits, heading for the couch anyway. She's set up a nice place to put up her feet, to help alleviate some of the minor swelling in her ankles. "Finally got an employee promoted to manager. I'm on call for question and answer over the phone, but he should be good for helping me work less, especially as I continue to... well, fill out." She pulls a blanket up around her, then snuggles a little deeper on the couch cushions. "Good. I'm glad you've got that news. I hope it leads to something quickly. Of course, I'm assuming the people you're looking for are in terrible danger," there's a sniff of unhappy laughter after that. "Well, that's good at least. Y'want me t'set up at the dining table, or the coffee table?" Micah ducks first into the kitchen to fetch a pair of glasses and fill them with cold water. "/That's/ good news. Y'all've been hurtin' for help over there for a minute." He shrugs a little at the mention of terrible danger. "Don't have the foggiest, really. Horus an' Anole both disappeared durin' the whole plague-'n-zombie fiasco. Ain't had sign of 'em since." He doesn't mention Matt, seeing as that /entire/ situation is wild speculation still at this point. Wandering into the living room, he hands Mel one of the glasses then sips a bit from his own. "Coffee table's best. Kind of low energy tonight." Melinda accepts the glass and holds it for a second before taking a sip. "Good. I miss Horus. I was kind of hoping he just migrated south for the winter, but it's fleeting optimism." She wets her lips and takes another sip before looking over at Micah with a little smile. "Yeah. Maybe we've got a good team at the cafe now. New dishwasher doesn't ... well, the kid's young, but I think he'll manage. I mean, how hard is it to wash dishes? Maybe in a week or two, we'll have him help with sandwich prep. Got a new barista too. That's going to take more work. I'm a bit particular about how the drinks are made, you know?" "Sure thing. Takeout containers're pretty much made for just holdin' an' eatin' out of." Micah retrieves the bag from the dining table, bringing it to the living room and kneeling by the coffee table to unpack. A pair of tall, clear plastic soup cups full of broth and noodles and meat and onions. Plastic clamshell containers to go alongside with herbs and peppers and lime wedges and bean sprouts. Tiny cups of hoisin sauce and sriracha. A pair of spoons, two sets of chopsticks, napkins. "Yeah, I'm still hopin' it's somethin'...innocuous for both of 'em. But I feel like they would've /contacted/ us if so." His lips thin into a straight line for a moment. "The drinks are pretty much what the place is about. Of course y'want 'em done right. I hope they all work out for you." The mention of the new dishwasher earns a hint of a wince. "I'm sor-- Um. Apologise. About that. Shane's just been..." He sighs instead of choosing an appropriate end to the sentence. "I told him that I'd talk to you." Melinda moves her feet down and settles them on the floor so she can reach over for the soup. She ends up shimming down to sit on the floor beside the table. "Told him I wanted to give him a chance to be honest. Didn't want to lose the relationship because he couldn't talk to me." Her fingers start the work of peeling a lid off one of the containers, her eyes starting to well up with tears. She lets go with one hand and starts dabbing at those eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. "I mean it. Just not so sure it will save the relationship now. Kind of lost one today." Micah's eyebrows lift at Mel's news. "You did? Oh... Honey, I didn't tell 'im he couldn't talk t'you. Didn't even tell 'im he couldn't talk t'you about /this/." He pauses, chewing at his lower lip as he chooses his words. "He just...when he was really upset he said somethin' incredibly hurtful. That is...so far beyond bein' relevant at this point. An' I asked 'im not t'repeat that one thing. I...can tell 'im t'speak freely if that's /really/ what y'want. But I don't think...he /really/ fully understands the situation." Micah scoots closer to Mel, sitting at her side and petting a hand against her shoulder. He reaches for one of the paper napkins and hands it to her when she starts to tear up. "D'you wanna talk about that? Or...any of it?" "Hun, he said he quit his job to focus on his studies." Mel closes her eyes and shakes her head. "For him to say something like that, to me... I swear, he's angry as hell at me." There is a little smile on her lips that stays as long as the silence remains. "My friend... said... I had no right bringing a non-consenting person into this shitty, shitty world. I tried to be open and honest. I tried to talk things out. He made sure I hurt... and that I understood how wrong he thinks I am. I feel like a freak, an optimistic, idealistic freak... who is just going to hurt everyone." Her fingers wrap around the napkin when she realizes it is there, using that instead to blot at her eyes. "Oh." Micah cringes a little at that revelation. "He didn't...exactly tell me all of that. But, yeah, he's angry. He's terrified your baby's gonna have the X-gene mostly, I think. An'...have t'deal with the kinds of things /he's/ dealt with in life. But he /don't/ get it. That by the time y'knew it was... He kept answerin' everythin' I had t'say about the baby with 'fetus' an' 'ball of cells' like you was only a couple of months along. So I don't think he /really/...gets all of what he's sayin'. But he got so mad at me he stormed out of the apartment once he was done yellin' at me over it. In that way that only teenagers can really pull off." He leans closer, snaking a supporting arm around Mel's shoulders. "That was a...harsh thing for your friend t'say, too. S'he an advocate for voluntary human extinction or somethin'? 'Cause the only way y'get new people is unconsentin'. An' he knew this wasn't even planned? I just. Don't understand how people can keep actin' like that toward you. When it wasn't planned an' y'didn't know 'til this stage of things." His arm presses a little tighter. "You're not. You've /got/ t'have some optimism once that decision is made, yeah? Little fella's gonna /be/ here. The best y'can do for 'em is to /be/ optimistic an' lovin' an' supportive. That's what there /is/ for you t'do." "I ... people don't always agree with us, Micah. Some people really think that life doesn't begin until the child starts breathing on its own. Trying to tell them otherwise is like trying to tell the 'living at conception' people that that they're wrong too. Everyone has their own beliefs. They are so desperately ingrained, it's nearly impossible to separate them." Melinda swallows hard and leans her head against Micah's shoulder. "It's just the way it is." She takes a deep breath. "I'll never let what happened to Shane, Sebastian, and Spencer happen to my kid. Never. Between me, Jim... you guys, fucking Xavier's, and my parents back home, there is going to be nothing but love, support, and as much safety as we can contrive." "That's the thing, though. At this stage. It could." Micah's head shakes at that. "Once you've /held/ a little 24 week premie, out here in the world, or met enough people who started out that way...it makes you realise." When Mel leans against him, his hand moves to pet at her hair. "You've got my support in this, honey. Completely. For as much as that's worth. I think maybe...once the baby is here an' not just a /theory/ t'folks as ain't /carryin'/ 'em. They'll come around." He brushes a few stray strands off of her forehead. "If there's anythin' y'need. Any time. Please don't hesitate." A tiny hint of a smile attempts to tug the corners of his lips upward. "Are y'gonna have 'em tell you the sex ahead of time, or wait 'til the birth? Not that I'm one of those pink-or-blue blanket people. Just...can be nice t'think about." "I won't hesitate. I just don't know what I need right now. I mean, I should probably start buying stuff. Cribs, bassinets, cosleeper, clothes, blankets, changing tables, all that stuff - you know, in case of an early delivery. I really shouldn't wait on the place Hive is building. Just kind of ... tired of this place. Doesn't feel the same anymore, not after November." Melinda glances around slowly, closing her eyes as she relaxes against Micah once more. "But realistically, there's no way that the new place is going to be up before May, and I sure as hell don't want to be around while they are still doing construction." She smiles a little and gazes at the food. "And no. I've kind of left all details that do not require medical attention out of the mix. I don't know. Maybe I should." “That sounds prudent. Y'need someone t'take you around and help pick things out an' all?” Micah's fingers continue to stroke over Melinda's hair steadily. “Yeah. There's been a...since the police came for Jax an' then Homeland Security bugged our place. It ain't been the same, either. Commons can't be built fast /enough/.” He leans in to place a light kiss to the top of Mel's head. “S'up t'you when y'wanna know. But...could be a /fun/ bit of information. 'Stead of a necessary one. Y'all started thinkin' on names yet?” "Oh... god. Names." Melinda sounds like she might cry again. "How do you name a child?" "Ohgosh...honey, I'm...apologies. I didn't mean to. I thought maybe it'd be a happier thing t'think about maybe." Micah's arm wraps tight around Mel again. "Um...some folks use family names or pick names that have t'do with their culture somehow. Others just pick ones they like the sound of. Or names that mean somethin' they want for the kid t'have. Or...there's whole /websites/ 'bout nothin' but baby names. But y'should have time. Y'don't gotta think about it yet if y'don't wanna." "Oh, no. It's okay. I think, maybe, I just need... some food. Fuel for thinking." Mel's laugh still holds layers of strong emotions, but she's nodding and smiling a little more. "Names are... good things to think about. Thank you... for coming over. So- Wish I wasn't so much of a mess." "Okay." Micah kisses Mel's hair again before pulling away enough to lean forward, sliding containers and utensils all within Mel's reach for her. "You're so incredibly welcome. An', honestly. You're gonna have such an unfair hormone /soup/ goin' on for awhile now. Even if y'didn't have perfectly legitimate things t'be upset or worried over, y'might be kinda a mess anyhow. Comes with the territory. Love you anyhow." He nods once more at the mention of thinking about names. "I'll be a name soundin' board, too." "Again. Thanks." Melinda pulls off the lid with more effort this time and cracks open her chopsticks, starting to add all sorts of different veggie bits to her pho. She only starts with a little bit though, beginning to lack the stomach capacity for full meals these days. "Hormone soup - shitty. This stuff? Kind of heaven."