ArchivedLogs:Intervention
Intervention | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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2015-01-12 ' |
Location
<NYC> {Melinda} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side | |
The entry way to Mel and Tove's apartment dumps directly into the living room, a small set of hooks on the wall beside the door for immediate removal of winter gear in the season. The floor in the entry way is a beige tile, optimal for collecting wet clothing items, instead of letting it spread out over the polished hardwood floors. There is a small nook with a window seat, on the same wall as the entryway, peeking out into the courtyard on the other side of the building's entrance. Two large windows line the right wall, casting light inside. There's a small dining table in the corner formed by the kitchen jutting into the living space from the wall opposite the entry; a small half wall providing lower counterspace and a barrier between the two rooms. There is a small hallway beside the kitchen, running along the side of the stairway to the second floor. At the base of the stairs, there's door to the small guest bathroom residing between the stairs and the interior wall. Hidden away in the back of the apartment is more storage space, a stacked washer and dryer, and exits, one to the basement utilities and one to the back yard. The second floor begins where the staircase ends, with a closet to the left, a bare wall, and a turn to the right. There are three doors, Tove's bedroom first, then Mel's master bedroom, which takes up most of the corner of the upstairs. The rest of the upstairs, over the living room and part of the downstairs bathroom, is a healthy sized bathroom with a large claw footed tub - one perfect for soaking one body or two. The sun still sets ridiculously early, despite the lengthening days and it makes for a sleepy, lethargic Tola. The child is currently strapped into her highchair, an assortment of mushy food set in front of her in colored bowls that appear to be in a permanent tilt. The bases themselves are level on the tray's surface, but the rims are at a few different angles. The child is seemingly less interested in eating from these bowls; rather, she is decorating herself with the stuff inside. Melinda is patiently sitting beside the girl, somewhat liberally splattered with a few food remnants herself. She sighs and rubs the bridge of her hand against her forehead and smears a carroty orange color against her skin and into her hair. She doesn't seem to notice or care as she is very carefully trying to coax Tola into caring about the small spoonful of food Mel has pretty much placed on her lips. The child doesn't seem to register it. Mel scoops it back onto the spoon and tries again. There's soft music playing the background, some less than offensive nineties punk grunge filling the living room. Knock knock knock! Flicker is at the door but doesn't actually wait for it to be opened; his face peeks in a window, squinting in and then appearing in the house a moment later. Less splattery than Mel-n-Tola, he only bears a bit of sawdust on the boots he's unlacing at the door and sprinkled on his jeans. He has a couple of boxes under his arm that he sets down to take his boots off -- Tsuro, Carcassone -- and a thermos tipped to its side and balanced atop those. He picks his games and drink back up once he has unshod himself, meandering over to Mel to peck the top of her head, drop into a seat beside them. "Mmm. Dinner. Tasty." Melinda looks up when she hears knocking at the door, seeing Flicker's face a moment later, offering him a wave to come in. Whether he waited for it or not is unknown, as he appears inside soon after. She turns her attention back to the child to finish up her attempts and starts to clean the kid off with a waiting wash cloth. "Hey, Flicker. How's it going?" She smiles softly at the kiss and spends a little time trying to get the foodgrime out from between the chubby little ridges of the infants fingers. "You brought games?" "I'm in withdrawal," Flicker explains, earnestly. "It's been /weeks/ since we had a game night and my house is --" He shrugs a shoulder, setting his things aside on the table as he watches Tola get cleaned off. "How's your weekend?" OK, Monday, same-diff. "Oh, Well, I can probably help you out with your problem, since you brought most of the solution with you." Mel grins and rises, taking off the tray of the high chair and setting it on the table before starting to unfasten Tola. She takes her to the sink for a slightly more thorough cleaning. "Oh, the end of my week was rocky, so I've been trying to keep things low key. Of course, I've promised that I'd try to organize some sort of... well, intervention, but now I"m not sure how to proceed. Hasn't made things feel very calm. I am saddened to hear things are still... you know... at home." "Intervention?" Flicker's brows hike way up. His eyes narrow at Tola with exaggerated suspicion. "Has Tola been at the apple juice again?" "She hits the bottle daily, Flicker. I'm not sure you understand. You're not here all the time. Sure, you may have seen her drinking one whole bottle -- but did you know she does it four to six times a day. You would not believe your eyes." Melinda remains dry through the recitation, her mood dropping to something that is easily recognizable as mock depression. "Though, it's all my fault. I mean, I could stop fixing bottles for her consumption. You can see my dilemma." "I know it's hard to resist those big eyes and chubby cheeks but Mel, you're just enabling her habit. And it only starts with the apple juice! Before you know it she'll be on to grape. Orange." Flicker leans forward, resting an elbow on his knee as he drops his voice to a more conspiratorial, "... /cran-raspberry/. You never know where this will end." Melinda shakes her head as she strips Tola out her onesie and presents the be-diapered baby to Flicker while she disappears into the hall to mess around with some laundry. She returns moments later with a fresh onesie, but not before calling back her responses. "Oh, Flicker, if you only knew. She drinks all sorts of things. So many juices... and milk. Milk like you wouldn't believe." She clucks her tongue as she tickles the sleepy infant's belly before starting to dress her while Flicker holds her. Flicker curls his arm around Tola, holding her against him on his lap. "Might be too late for an intervention." His head shakes, tongue clicking sadly. He lifts Tola's arms, assisting with the dressing procress. "She'll just have to be thankful she can get by on adorable." "Too late," Melinda agrees with a soft sigh, starting to snap up the seams on the child's clothing. She tickles Tola's toes, but she is slower about it too. Finally, she looks up and smiles. "Okay, now that we've come to the inevitable conclusion, what did you want to play first?" Flicker shifts Tola slightly to one side on his lap, shifting his arms so that the mechanical one rests down around her instead. His other reaches for the boxes, hovering over them before he plucks up Tsuro and sets it in front of himself. "Who's the intervention really for?" Melinda finishes cleaning up herself, only managing to half wipe her face, unable to see to get the rest of it. She sits down once more at the table and scoots a little closer to her guest, resting one elbow on the table as she watches him begin to pull out pieces. "Jax... maybe Micah." Her lips twitch as she takes one of the dragon pieces, turning it over in her fingers. "... Ah." Understanding clouds Flicker's expression, pulling his smile down. Lips a little thinner, brows pulling inward. His fingers trail through the pieces; eventually he pulls out the white one and sets it in front of him. Shuffles the tiles and stacks them. "... we sure it's not too late for that too?" "The drugs they seem to be on are pretty strong. It's hard to say." Mel keeps with the red one, setting it down on the table as she leans a little, pressing her forehead against Flicker's shoulder for a moment. "I hope it's not too late. Kind of tired of watching people..." she doesn't say it, but it's a fairly dark thought from the look on her face. She snatches the first tile and places it and her marker. Flicker's shoulders settle more heavily. His chin drops slowly to rest against the top of Tola's head, his eyes fixing unhappily on the board. It takes a while for him to look at his own tiles and choose one. "I'm hoping it's just the beginning that's rough. That things'll get better. But. I'm --" He shakes his head, placing his tile and sliding his marker. "I'm hoping a lot." "I just want them to wake up and accept more help. A kid like that, no one can do it alone. They definitely need the whole community." Mel inhales deeply and settles her gaze on her tiles, considering quietly. "Hoping is good. Hoping is a step in the right direction. I just... need to do something." She swallows and picks out a tile. "For tonight? I'm going to veer to the left." Her piece follows the path and ends up perched on a precipice, waiting for the next tile to be laid. |