ArchivedLogs:Make New Friends

Make New Friends
Dramatis Personae Aloke, Jackson, Micah	2013-07-19 '
Location <NYC> 303 {Lighthaus} - Village Lofts - East Village
This apartment is cheerful, in its way -- bright and airy, its floor plan open and a plethora of windows providing it with an abundance of light. The tiny entrance hall opens into a living room, small, though its sparse furniture and lack of clutter give it a more open feel. The decor is subdued and minimalist; black and white is the dominant theme, with occasional splashes of deep crimson to offset the monochrome, though of late myriad bright-coloured dragonflies swarm across the living room wall. The couch and armchair are upholstered in black corduroy, the low wide coffee table central is black wood and glass-topped, and a few large pillowy beanbags provide additional seating by the large windows that dominate the back wall. Towards the back, a couple of doors lead off into bedrooms and bathroom, and to the right, the kitchen's tile is separated from the living room's dark hardwood floors by black countertops. Above the bedroom to one side, there is higher space; a ladder climbs up to a lofted area looking down on the living room. Standing in front of the partition between living and cooking area is a large fish tank: one lone Betta, blood-red, swims regally among several species of black and silver fish. A hallway beyond the kitchen leads further into the apartment. Another bathroom stands just into the hall and the farthest door leads to the apartment's final bedroom, the door usually kept shut to hold in the acrid fumes of turpentine and paints from within. Jackson's apartment is quiet, Friday night. That isn't always the case; with the semi-dorm feel the Lofts often have there are frequently people in and out. Joshua teleporting in to borrow a book (or return one), Flicker raiding the fridge, Dusk coming in search of his ferret when Spencer yet /again/ kidnaps her from the apartment upstairs, Ryan mistaking Jax's bed for his own, Horus /grooming/ the cat. Spencer waging intense involved battles with his robots. The twins coming by for drive-by affection before retreating to /their/ apartment just next door. But today, quiet, with quite a /few/ of the Lofties out -- well, beating each other up, truth be told. But amicably, at least? And Spencer spending the night at a friend's. Actual peace and quiet, kind of a /rarity/ in this apartment. Jackson -- savours it, when he returns home. Just for a little while. A short moment to close his eye and /revel/. But then -- preparation! There is not as much as there might otherwise be; thorough cleaning and /most/ cooking prep was done before leaving; it largely involves putting things back on the stove for a last brief reheating sizzle. Sauteed seitan-mushrooms-corn with cilantro and onions, rice with coconut and lime. Guacamole still needs mashing. PROBABLY he is fretting about that. But /before/ he can do kitchen fretting there is post-fight /showering/ and changing to do, and it isn't long before he emerges, no longer /sweaty/gross but fresh-clean! If slightly damp. And dressed in purple sleeveless top and black denim skirt. "-- I tried for nice clothes," he is saying as he returns to KITCHEN, "but oh my gosh, it's like. /All/ the degrees. /Um/. I hope he doesn't die. It'd be really impolite to invite someone t'dinner then kill them with no AC, right?" In deference to the heat there are at least many /fans/. And Jax has turned off -- /most/ of his seventeen /million/ lamps. Micah maybe didn't try as hard for nice clothes? He does have on a jade green button-down over a white undershirt, with a pair of mostly intact jeans that aren't /completely/ faded out. That could be what qualifies as 'nice' in his book, though. He stops Jax from rushing around in fret-mode, delivering /kisses/ instead. When he moves away it is with a playful smile. “Point me at somethin' that needs doin' instead of worryin' at it,” he requests with a gentle nudge at Jax's shoulder. “Also, I don't think it's deadly-hot in here. We can keep a steady stream of iced drinks going, okay?” If anyone happens to be looking at the front door, they may notice the bright flash outlining the doorframe, from some brief light in the hallway. Then there's a knock at the door. Aloke is found on the other side, wearing a white button down shirt with the top button undone, black sport jacket, and dark jeans with brown leather flip-flops. In his right hand, he holds the necks of two bottles - a white and a red wine, with labels in Italian. In his left hand is a brown paper handle bag, with a logo and store name in Hindi. Apparently he made a couple quick stops on his way over. "Hi," he says. "Thanks again for having me. I didn't know if you liked white or red." He holds up the bag to Micah, "And this is for you." A host gift? How old fashioned! Inside the bag, if investigated, is a tin of freshly cut and crushed Assam tea leaves. "Oh-h," Jackson is derailed /mid-fret/ by kisses, the worried frown that's /starting/ to appear on his face pushed back into a bright-cheerful smile instead. "/Um/. I didn't mash the avocado cuz it browns so quick -- the guac still needs, um." He waves his hand towards the fridge as he turns the heat on under the pans on the stove. "Guac-ing." He bounces lightly on his bare toes when the knock comes at the door. "Oh! Ohgosh I didn't even set the tab -- right no frettin'." ZOOM. Peek out the spyhole. His brow rumples again but only for a /second/. When Jackson answers the door, he has traded his denim skirt and tank top for an elegantly cut /tuxedo/, crisp and sharp and neatly-tailored. Incidentally, Micah has one, /too/. For -- mashing avocado in. Jackson's eye ticks briefly down over Aloke's clothes. "Hi!" He sounds as cheerful-bright as his smile. "Oh, gosh, you brought -- you're sweet oh! I'm -- both is -- red prob'ly goes better with dinner though /hi/. How are you come in! Sorry about the – hot." Micah is /just/ heading for the kitchen to handle the guacamole when there is knocking! He follows Jax to the door for guest-greeting purposes first. Priorities, after all. “Oh, costume change,” he observes idly, brushing at the image-clothing in a way that...doesn't do anything because it is illusory. “Nice to meet you, I'm Micah,” he offers with a warm smile when he is handed the bag, which frees hands up conveniently for shaking purposes. “Thanks, that was thoughtful of you.” He also gestures Aloke in from the entryway, stepping back to make room as he does so before investigating the bag. Crinklecrinkle. “Contrary t'what y'may be thinkin', Jax is not actually responsible for the weather,” he teases as he opens the container. The tea gets an appreciative sniff before it is passed over to Jax, since tea is kind of his thing. “I have green things t'mash up, beg pardon.” He tips an imaginary hat before retreating to the kitchen to tend to just that task. "Wow, I guess I'm kinda underdressed, sorry," Aloke says. Grinning, he elbows Jax gently as he passes him coming in. "And don't worry about the weather. I just got back from Bangalore. Hot and humid as hell. This is fine. At least it cools off some at night." Aloke follows Micah briefly to set the wine bottles on the kitchen counter, and turns to look the place over. He was only here that one time after all, and the situation had been pretty stressful. "This place is great, by the way. I don't think I ever mentioned that. I mean, I love my place at the mansion, and I don't really miss my old apartment, but this is really nice. I love what you've done with it." "Thanks! I like colour. Actually the dragonflies were a surprise from the kids for my birthday but they make me smile /every/ time I see 'em." Micah's hat does not stay imaginary for long, a black top hat appearing just for tipping purposes and then vanishing. "I didn't /tell/ you my place is black-tie only? All the time. New dress code," Jackson tells Aloke brightly; he /squeezes/ that elbow briefly when it nudges at him. Even as his own tuxedo gets a good deal less /proper/, starting to shimmer with a wealth of glitter. Micah's grows pinstripes in rainbow colours. "-- Bangalore, oh, /gosh/, Aloke --" He does not grow cartoon /stars/ in his eyes but it's a very near thing. "-- how do you ever get used t' --" He closes the door behind Aloke, drifting in after him to head to the kitchen so he can set the table. "-- the whole /world/. Being yours." “Ohgosh, no, you're fine,” Micah assures Aloke before adding in a stage whisper, gesturing toward Jax, “He's /cheatin'/.” He pulls down a bowl from a cabinet, retrieves a cutting board and knife, and goes about lining up ingredients. “If you came dressed like this y'might /melt/. Just wouldn't do. Word spreads you melt your houseguests and no one wants t'visit anymore.” A sad headshake is paired with slicing an avocado in half and removing its pit, then repeating the process with a second. Aloke grins, and shrugs off his jacket. "No worries about melting me. But I'll shed this, if it's all the same. Where should I hang it?" With the jacket off he sets about unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling up the cuffs. "And it's kinda funny, actually, Jax. But I didn't travel all that much before I came to Xavier's. I was just putting so much energy into hiding. Even though it's relatively easy for me, you know? I can find a secluded corner to pop in or out of... Just gotta wear sunglasses." He shrugs, probably drawing attention to the fact that soft yellow light is literally shining out of his eyes, even more noticeable than usual in the dim evening light of the apartment. "But it definitely cuts down on travel expenses." He grins. "I did melt one'a my houseguests once! Well --" Jackson's nose wrinkles. "I guess Brett kinda tends to melt all the time no matter what you do. Ooze around like a puddle. S'how I'm feeling now anyway. Here, let me --" He takes the jacket from Aloke even as his and Micah's newly colourful tuxedos fade back into their actual outfits. "If I did what you do I wouldn't never hold /still/. Probably good I don't I wouldn't get nothin' done. -- you shouldn't hafta hide those," comes almost as absent afterthought, glancing to Aloke's eyes as he slips towards the door to hang the jacket near the entrance. “Sure's okay. Make whatever costume changes y'want.” Micah peels avocado skins back from the flesh, popping each of the four halves into the bowl before applying /masher/. Mooshmoosh, green goo...with a touch of lime juice to impede oxidation. “How long have y'been at the school? Jax was tellin' me y'teach art, too?” He regards Aloke for a moment when he mentions sunglasses. “Now, that's just a shame. Pretty spectacular set of eyes t'hide behind shades.” He frowns slightly, for just a moment. “It is what it is, I s'pose. Expedient.” Jax's musing incites a chuckle from Micah. “I have a hard enough time keepin' track of you /now/. Nevermind if you were flittin' 'round /more/ than a hummin'bird.” He grins down at the remnant quarter of a large onion before starting in on dicing it finely. Aloke hands the jacket over obediently, and laughs about Jax's melted house guest. "Well, my folks wanted me to know 'the homeland' and all, even though I'm /fifth/ generation. But it's good. I'm glad we went so much. I go every summer now. Just back from a month with extended family and such." Aloke slips his flip-flops off next to the door as well, and joins the barefoot crowd, even though he still sees only tuxes. He walks to the edge of the kitchen again to answer Micah's question. "Well lets see... I joined up in April, I think? Or May. Xavier poached me from a rival school. I'm pretty happy with the change." Aloke rises onto tippy-toes briefly to peer at what Micah is doing from his position outside the kitchen. Apparently he has some internal rules about not interrupting the cook. "Oh! Is that gauc? I /love/ guacamole." "Guacamole," Jackson agrees, flitting back towards the kitchen so that he can finish setting the table, dressed once more in skirt and tank top. "An' cilantro and lime seitan -- stirfry and rice. Oh gosh! Do you want somethin' to drink I didn't offer you -- drink." His hand scuffs lightly across his shaved head, sheepish. "S'your family in Bangalore?" He flashes Micah a brighter smile, warmer: "-- You could keep track of me. I'd take you /with/ me. If I was seein' the world I'd want to see it with you." “That sounds like fun. S'good t'spend time with family,” Micah comments on Aloke's recent trip. “Glad you're enjoyin' the job-swap. I'm sure they're feelin' the same way 'round the school.” He nods at Jax's confirmation of guacamole. “What are your feelin's on spice levels?” he checks, sliding the onions into the bowl and moving onto a cheerful red-orange tomato. Jax's smile receives an echo in reply. “Mmm, honey, y'get any sweeter it might be a health risk,” he jokes in lieu of the hugs that would usually be his answer to such a thing. Because Jax is /over there/ and Micah's hands are covered in vegetable bits. Also, holding a knife. Aloke smiles and looks around the apartment in general, trying to hide how fond he is of the two men's affection for each other. But still, he revels in their shared warmth. "Uh, yeah, some of my family is in Bangalore. 'It's the Silicon Valley of Asia, you know...'" he says, obviously quoting. The wry grin suggests he might be quoting some old fart in his family who might be inflating the home town pride a bit. "I mean, if you ignore Tokyo and Beijing and..." He laughs and waves it off. "Spicy's fine with me. Whatever you guys like." "We like spicy. Not -- quite so much as some others oh /man/ I think Hive an' Flicker upstairs pretty much just -- /eats/ peppers like they was /candy/ but -- some kick's still nice." Jackson finishes setting dishes out, turning around to stir at the rice, then the stir-fry. Then turn both of them off. "Y'know, I'm kinda embarrassed t'admit it but I ain't even never been outta the country. I don't even /have/ a passport. Some time I really should -- it'd be nice to actually see -- well. Somewhere. Else. Was bein' home nice? A month sounds like --" He leans against the counter, exhaling a soft laugh. "Like just the right kinda break from New York right about now." Scootscootscoot, he scoots down the counter, waaaaaiting for a pause in chopping so that he can lean in and dart a kiss to Micah's temple without risking any knifely mishaps. “Have a lot of computer tradesfolk in the family, or just enthusiasts?” Micah inquires at the Silicon Valley comment, the dull side of the knife shepherding tomato bits into his bowl. His fingers work on divesting a garlic clove of its papery skin before mashing it with the knife and mincing what remains. “Speak for yourself, peppers /are/ candy sometimes. Chilis in dark chocolate,” he elaborates, a little pink triangle of tongue darting across his lips at the thought. Garlic finds itself scooped onto the side of the knife and scraped into the bowl, followed by a few pinches of chopped cilantro left over from Jax's cooking. “I been to Germany one time during undergrad., with a group from classes. Was what I took for my language reqs. They set up a real cheap trip...hostels'n all.” Jax's kiss comes just before Micah reaches for the tiny green jalapeño next to the cutting board. He almost reaches a hand out for the other man before remembering...right, garlic fingers. A /bright/ smile and catlike shoulder-nudge will have to do. Then the jalapeño loses its stem and is diced even tinier before being added to the mix along with a pinch each of cumin, salt, and pepper. Commence the stirring, and guacamole is complete. “Oh, well sorta,” Aloke says to Micah’s question. “We have a couple of entrepreneurs in the family, which makes me the black sheep.” The MFA and former NYU professor laughs off his perceived inadequacies. “Family: what can you do, right?” Aloke gets a peek at what all is going on in the kitchen then, and stands on the balls of his bare feet to /peer/. "Oh wow you guys, this all looks amazing. And I know a little something about home-cooked vegetarian food, so I know what I'm talking about." He grins, and settles down again. "Can I help with anything?" He flashes his grin between the happy couple and just generally looks pleased to be here. Did we mention Aloke doesn't get out much? “Oh -- oh, oh, /okay/, chocolate-chilis are candy -- or cayenne in chocolate cupcakes --” A small happy smile flits across Jax’s face at these thoughts. “-- But /that/ crazy loon ate a /ghost pepper/ once, I don’t think he values his /insides/ much.” His nose crinkles up; he flashes Aloke a crooked smile. “-- can kinda feel you there,” he admits. “M’the first person in /my/ family ever to /do/ college but I’m, uh -- art school isn’t real /sensible/ sorta work so I’m still kinda. Also black-sheepy. Or -- maybe more like a rainbow sheep,” he decides. His head shakes; he ushers Aloke towards the table. “You can sit! An’ enjoy the /food/ s’about ready now -- um! ‘kai get you a drink?” He’s transferring stir-fry and rice from pans into actual dishes, so that he can set them on the table. Micah chuckles softly at the vegetarian food commentary. “Oh, that would be mostly Jax's doin'. I'm just mashin' things in a bowl.” He makes a stop at the sink to wash his hands before returning for the bowl and carrying it to the table. “I think we're pretty much done, though, go ahead an' sit.” Micah gives Jax a starry-eyed look. “D'you make cayenne-chocolate cupcakes? That sounds glorious.” He 'hmms' softly at the jobs discussion. “Don't guess my work is /too/ weird considerin' my folks. Pops is a mechanic. Momma is an elementary school music teacher. An' yes, they still have those. Sometimes.” The guacamole finds a resting place on the table before Micah returns to help Jax ferry out serving dishes. Aloke acquiesces to Jax, and moves to stand behind a chair that has a place set out for it. "Well sure, a drink would be nice. If it's spicy, maybe the white I brought? It was chilled when I got it, couldn't have warmed up too much. With my long trip over here and all…" He grins and shrugs before pulling his chair out and taking a seat. When Micah comes over he nods at the mention of work. "Oh, that’s right, Micah, can you tell me more about what you do? Jax has told me all about you of course, but not about your work." He grins, happy to score points for the guy. “He drives around in a TARDIS all day,” Jackson chooses to disclose this as the Most Important aspect of Micah’s work. With all the food on the table, he moves to a seat, too, adjacent to Aloke. “I do! Chocolate an’ cayenne an’ cinnamon -- I can do it in cookie form, too.” He slips into his chair, flashing his smile at Aloke. “Oh! -- That -- sounds pretty lovely, you’re -- real thoughtful, honey-honey.” Almost as soon as he has sat down he is half-standing back up, one knee propped on his chair, so that he can /serve/ food up. Starting with Aloke’s plate first before Micah’s. Once his hands are free, Micah takes a seat opposite the other two. “Has he been tellin' tales, then? Oh, goodness.” A hint of a blush dusts across his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. “An' it's not really a TARDIS, though I'll admit the extra /space/ would be a boon. It's a van with a mobile shop in it. I mostly make prostheses an' orthoses—limb replacements an' orthopaedic bracing. But I do general assistive technology, too. Mobility devices, standers, equipment for whatever activities of daily livin'. I specialise primarily with the paediatric population, but got into workin' with military vets, too, when I was livin' near D.C.” Jax's dessert descriptions derail his work rambles handily. “Ohgosh, how is that a thing that hasn't happened yet? I mean...at least not with my mouth around to try it. I assume you've made it before from the way y'tell it.” Aloke flashes an appreciative smile as Jax serves up the plates, and turns to Micah, “Wow, that is really great work you’re doing.” But when Micah mentions his despair about missing out on the Jax’s desserts, the language Micah uses earns a quick look down at Aloke’s plate. He’s biting his lip, and generally not doing a very good job stifling some kind of ‘that’s what he said’ joke. “It’s kind of /like/ really a TARDIS,” Jackson protests, “I mean s’the right colour /and/ when you’re in it you kinda tend to lose track of time. ‘least,” he rather jokingly complains to Aloke, “when he’s workin’.” He takes his seat with his own plate, bowing his head over it a moment befor ehe picks up his fork. Aloke’s lip-biting ears a quirk of pierced eyebrows, a small twitch of Jackson’s lips. “-- What?” “Thanks, it's...kinda just what I gotta natural knack for, y'know?” Micah replies simply to Aloke's compliment. That alone would be enough to send his blush into a darker part of the red spectrum, but that look? Definitely not helping. The colour seeps easily into Micah's neck and ears, while his gaze is downcast. To observe the delicious food now on his plate, obviously. “Um...yeah. I did paint the van up to /look/ like the TARDIS, s'true. An' it's hard t'leave off when you're in the middle of makin' a thing. Just kinda wanna see it through to the finish all at once, y'know?” Apparently he is planning to bull right through without acknowledging the whole /blushing/ thing. Never one to make someone feel embarrassed on /purpose/, Aloke waves the matter aside. Inappropriate jokes are inappropriate. "It's nothing, Jax. Ignore me!" Aloke covers with a sip of wine, and a change of topic. "Well, I'd love to see it sometime, Micah. It's too bad it won't be bigger on the inside, but maybe you'll master manipulating the fabric of time and space next." Aloke grins good-naturedly. "And thank you again, for having me over. I know you two must be super busy all the time, with your house full of kids and all, but honestly… It's nice to just hang out with a couple nice people over dinner. Not my humongous family back home, and not the straight-backed, always-on-duty atmosphere at the school. This…" Aloke sighs and slumps back a little, a happy smile forming. "This is just… /nice/. Perfect, actually." He holds his glass up for clinkings and says, "To friends, new and old!"