ArchivedLogs:Mandatory Partying

Mandatory Partying
Dramatis Personae Hive, Jax, Melinda, Flicker, Sprout	2014-05-15 '
Location <NYC> Mel, Hive, and Flicker's place - East Harlem
This bright and spacious apartment in East Harlem is standing in as a temporary home while the Harbor Commons are finished. The layout is relatively simple: Front door leads to a small sitting area with the open kitchen on the side. There's a dining table on the otherside of the counter that separates the kitchen and most remarkable, a half canoe sits in the corner, filled with glassware for drinking. There are couches against the wall which leads to a small hallway, with bedrooms on one side with a bath on the opposite side. Melinda's and Tola's room has a single queen sized bed, facing a fireplace. The little flower's cosleeper is on the window side of the room next to the night stand. The changing table fits into the space between the fireplace and the windows in the other corner. The closet shares its door with the door to the hallway. Hive's and Flicker's room is very similar to Melinda's in lay out, closet and door opposite the large windows. They share the same chimney, so their fireplace is on the other side of the room. Instead of a single bed, though, there are two singles. It's another grey day, warm but intermittently drizzly though at the moment the rain has stopped its light patter against the windows. It'll probably start again soon. Appropriately in the kitchen Guster's "Rainy Day" is playing on Hive's laptop, quietly, though now it's giving way to "Lightning Rod". He's singing along under his breath with the song, tucked away at the kitchen counter where he has pulled one of the tall counter-chairs over to the stove so that he can /sit/ while he cooks. Scrambling tofu, at the moment, maybe it's a brunch-for-lunch kind of day? Flicker's only recently returned from school, a bright energy to him since getting back. He's been helping with the parts of cooking that Hive's unsteady hands probably shouldn't be attempting. Mostly the things involving sharp knives and lots of chopping. His cooking knowledge is limited but he can take orders like a pro, slicing shallots and scallions and mushrooms, mincing garlic. He's actually seated at the counter where the chairs /belong/, dressed blandly neat in green polo and khakis, his good leg bouncing rapidly against the rung of the chair. Melinda appears from her bedroom carrying a freshly changed baby in her arms, still adjusting the light weight blanket she has wrapped around the little green figure. The breeze that follows indicates she's opened the window to help air out the small room a little more. Her mind is still stuck in diaper land, trying to figure out how what she puts into the kid can turn into something so disgusting, but thoughts slowly drift back to happier places when she catches a whiff of what is on the stove. A small smile pulls at her weary expression, brightening it. She moves over to lean against Flicker's briefly to give him a side hug. "Hey, happy end of the semester." She gives his shoulder a squeeze before wandering over to Hive and planting a kiss on the top of his head. "Happy Thursday." There's a note of acknowledging that she and Hive are at that place in their lives where they don't get neat semester breaks and new things periodically through out the year and can only embrace the monotony, but she is currently on maternity leave, so that's not as accurate anymore. Flicker looks up from his scallion-slicing, smile warm and bright as he curls an arm carefully around Melinda as well, tipping his face up to drop a kiss first on her cheek and then on Tola's head. "Thanks. I can't even tell you how excited I am. Though --" He glances over towards the crutch that he's abandoned, propped up against the counter while he's off his feet. "-- no school, no work till he's walking right again, motherfucker doesn't know what to /do/ with his goddamn self." Hive is whisking together some variety of sauce in a small bowl, though he pauses in this too to bonk his head back against Melinda's arm. "Monotony? Have we been living in different universes? S'a lotta shit you can say about our lives," he adds with a wry grin, "but I don't know if I'd accuse anyone here of having /monotonous/ ones. Jax is coming for lunch. Should be here soonish." Mel laughs a little and shakes her head. "Forgive me, I'm getting a little stir crazy. I think it's more of a jealousy people who get summer and winter breaks than legitimate monotony." Those breaks made it much easier to mark the passage of time, rather than the constant that work 'usually' presents. She cradles Hive against her torso as she moves her arm, wrapping it around to run her fingers through his hair. "You could probably use a couple straight months of sleep, given how much you've been doing lately," she tells Flicker, her lips twitching to one side in a half smile. "I know you do more than I did when I was in college and I still spent most of my summer breaks sleeping in." She glances back down at Hive for a warm and pleasant moment, before turning her attention to the food he is cooking. "Jax, eh? When is he done? I can't remember what date he was supposed to finish." Bzzt! That is the buzzer of their building. Outside there is a Jax. Who will cheerfully identify himself as such if QUERIED via intercom. "/He's/ actually graduating," Flicker laments. "On the inside I'm as green as Tola. I sometimes don't know how I survived two years, let alone two /more/." "/Two/ more? More like -- eight. If you're really going to be doctoring. But to be fair," Hive is tipping his head back as he speaks, rubbing his short scruff of dark hair against Mel's fingers, "it's not school that's killing you so much as getting shot all the time." Flicker's grin curls wider. He slides down off his chair, reappearing on the other side of the counter to drag his cutting board over and leave the pile of sliced scallions beside the stove. "What did you study?" he asks Mel suddenly, an apologetic dip to his head as a blush floods his cheeks. "I don't think I actually even know." He's quick to the intercom when it buzzes, not bothering with /walking/ really so much as just teleporting over; he leaves the front door unlocked for Jax before blipping back to his seat. Leg injury -- not so relevant when he doesn't actually need to take many steps. "You want to go out? Do something? It's a little wet today. Weekend's supposed to be gorgeous. We could go to the park. Get out a little. I mean, or we could go out today, just. Somewhere --" Hive shrugs a shoulder, tipping his sauce now over the crumbled tofu in his wok. "Inside. Dryer." "Ha. Well, you don't know because it's completely irrelevant. Mostly, anyway. I studied theater. I got a lot out of the theater management classes, but unfortunately, I was mostly motivated by the desire to act that that point, and only retroactively appreciate those classes." Melinda pulls the corners of her mouth back deep into her cheeks, pressing her lips together unhappily. "Don't worry about it. Just be glad you didn't get the same youthful impractical desires I had." She relaxes as she watches the food start to come together, pressing a last kiss to Hive's forehead before starting to walk again, bouncing a little to keep Tola occupied. "Going out would be good. I just... need a change of scenery. The weekend might be better, all things considered." Mel doesn't bother voicing her overprotective mothering thoughts, but certainly has them. Tola's still a little young for crowds and most indoor activities are full of germ laden people. It's not very long before the door is pushed open to let Jax inside; he's still a little damp across the top of his wide silver-trimmed black ten-gallon hat, which he sheds along with his sneakers and metallic silver jacket just inside the door. He's got on, otherwise, a black tank top and very paint-splattered (mostly bright lime green) jeans and brightly coloured mismatched socks. Silver and black makeup, Large dark glasses. There's a big canvas bag slung over one shoulder and a messenger bag over the other; as he trots off towards the kitchen he leaves the messenger bag by one of the chairs, darting small kisses to Flicker and Mel and Tola's cheeks. "Hihihi!" He hoists his second bag to the counter to pull out a large box of cookies. "Ohgosh food that smells good." "There's quiet places. Aren't there?" Hive looks uncertain of this as he stirs at his food. "You could let Hive take you on the grand tour. Some of the houses down at the Commons are looking - pretty good." Flicker bounces a little in his seat, twisting around to give Jax a tight hug, flitting back towards the stove to steal a mushroom out of Hive's wok. "S'drinks in the fridge," Hive offers. "The scramble's for banh mi. What's wrong with impractical? I think we're all impractical. Fucking superheroing about, acting's /way/ more practical than that. Anyway look at this asshole." He waves his wooden spoon towards Jax. "S'got himself a gorram /fine arts/ degree, the fuck you gonna do with that. He's still smiling." "Hey, Jax honey." Mel stands still for the kisses, looking him over when he pulls away again. "Got enough stuff there?" She steps back and returns to the gentle bounce. "Well, Jax's degree is likely going to get use because he's an art teacher, a tattoo artist, and a -- well, saying he's an artist on nonliving surfaces is entirely separate, I swear. I've basically given up acting." there's a pang of regret that follows that, but she tries to push it down like all of the other emotions that are still speaking louder than she'd like. It feels like it's been getting better lately, but the stir-crazy feeling is growing as well. "There's pretty much nothing impractical about the liberal arts. It just might be impractical for certain individuals." After a deep inhalation, she diverts her attention to the cookies, stealing one for herself, nibbling a little before noting, "Oh, a tour of the commons would be lovely. I know I've seen all the pictures and the holographs, but being inside... well, it's going to be so much more tangible." The cookies are bar cookies today, whole wheat and figgy. "Not enough stuff, no, I was gonna make a fruit salad too but I ran outta time." Or energy, Jax's somewhat sluggish mind adds quietly. "I'd say you should come check out Evolve but s'all paint fumes right now an' that's no good Tola-wise. We spent all last evenin' paintin' up the walls I'm goin' back in later. Doin' the whole ceilin'. Shane says he's gonna open Evolve with a Commencement party. -- You sound like my freaking Pa, man, what's impractical 'bout doin' what y'love? I swear m'gonna deck the next person who tells me my degree's useless, /I'm/ the only one allowed t'say it." He slips over to the fridge to peer inside. "Y'all want anything? And oh /gosh/ he's right Mel the Commons is lookin' /lovely/. Well the houses. The grounds is kinda a mess'a construction equipment." Hive presses his lips together, squinting up one eye as he looks over at Mel. "Mmm. Could get back into it, maybe. You've already got the job for it. Working in food service is a time-honored tradition of struggling actors. What's Evolve looking like? I'll go sniff paint fumes. Killing my brain faster is just what the doctor ordered. When's your commencement again?" "Are we going?" Flicker brightens, excited. "You're happy with your degree. That's not impractical." He leans in to nab a cookie, too, sitting back in his seat with it. "Um, I'll take an Izze? -- Do you like what you're doing now instead?" He rests his chin in one hand, gaze slanting over towards Mel. "And we're not letting Hive hang out in paint fumes. Evolve's not far from the Commons, though, we can drop you there on the way." Melinda's initial response is to reject what the others are saying. She's got a kid now. It would be horribly irresponsible to try to work a full time job while seeking out acting gigs at night. When would she see Tola? Acting's a young person's game. She just can't. She stays quiet for a while longer, trying to listen and slow her thoughts, her gaze turning back to the child, running the back of a finger against her cheek. She knows they aren't pressuring her to do anything. Everything just feels like pressure right now. "Maybe," Mel inhales deeply again and puts a small smile on her lips. "And yeah, I like working at Montagues. We have a decent crew there," it was better with Shane, "and caffeine is kind of a passion. There was talk about going into bean roasting and wholesaling, but I should probably pursue an MBA for that. I don't know. Just feeling the upheaval of a major life change. Now might not be a good time to talk about this." She looks embarassed. "Apologies. ... and yes. I'd love to go the commons after lunch, if that works for everyone." Jax pulls a pair of Izze bottles out of the fridge, setting one down on the counter in front of Flicker. He tips the other out in offering towards Mel. "You can come to the really pretentious reception an' the really un-pretentious afterparty," he tells Flicker, "they have this big student exhibition at graduation time every year so it's gonna be full'a art snobs. But y'can't come t'commencement." He frowns, somewhat worried at this. "They only give us three tickets. I ain't really sure what t'do about that. I mean -- give 'em t'my parents an' Micah an' ditch the kids? That seems harsh. Though Spence'd be bored outta his skull anyway so maybe s'for the best." He slumps back against the counter, elbow resting against it. "Caffeine's a /delicious/ passion. Y'gonna be alright t'get down there, Hive, I didn't bring no car." His eyesight is still not quite in driving condition yet. "Can I help with this food thing I feel all antsy jus' standin' around." He leans in to snake an arm around Mel for a quick squeeze. "Can we talk about how she's still pretty much the cutest thing on earth? Dusk's," maybe going to jail, "doin' a little better he's got aims t'teach her sign right quick I think." "Can't is a dirty word," Hive murmurs into his wok, but lets the matter rest after Melinda's discomfort. "Three?" Flicker's brows pull together as he takes the Izze. "That sucks. We'll have the /partiest/ afterparty though. I don't think I have good art snob clothes." "Just let Jax dress you, you'll fit right in. -- You can cut the baguettes." Hive waves his spoon towards /those/, sitting out on the counter as well. "And slice the tomato and jicama if Flicker's ditched his sous chef job." "I have priorities." Flicker uncaps his soda to hold it up. "And it's okay, I've been borrowing zipcars when we really need. But that scooter thing does him okay for the subway." "Kind of a lifesaver," Hive agrees, switching off his stove and turning in his chair. "Need plates, too. Wait, /jail/, the fuck?" His eyes narrow. "Can't teach sign from jail." Melinda scowls at Hive when he responds to her thoughts and not what she chooses to put out there. Her annoyance fades quickly though. << Everything's still very... emotional in here. >> She inhales and accepts the bottle from Jax, then leans into the hug. "Thanks. You can count me out of wanting to go to your commencement. I love you and want to support you, but... commencements are boring as hell and I'd probably have to get up all the time to take care of the Sprout." There is a flash of concern regarding Dusk teaching sign to her child, given his reaction to her the last time they were any where near him, but she reminds herself about the 'getting better' part. She turns to face Jax when Hive mentions jail, her eyebrows climbing her forehead. "They aren't going to arrest you again, too, are they?" "It's -- definitely going to be boring," Jax agrees with a crooked smile, sliding away after the tight squeeze of hug to get himself a glass of water and a knife. "The actual ceremony part. The reception'll have a lotta good art? An' Evolve'll be -- well. Evolve. Grand openin'. M'sure Shane an' Aly'll make it. Somethin'." He washes his hands before pilfering /back/ Flicker's cutting board, staying beside the stove as he scrapes the scallions to one side to free up room for jicama slicing. "How thin y'want this?" His brow rumples, head shaking quickly at Mel's question. "Me? Oh gosh. No. Um. Dusk -- someone shot him. An' he's fine but he fought back an' now there's a warrant out for -- assaulting this guy but. It wasn't -- /like/ that he ain't. Like he was." His finger grips the knife rather tight, a tension to his muscles as memories of Dusk in the attic flit back through his mind. << Understandably. Here. Have a mushroom. >> It's seasoned now, garlic and spices, soy sauce and lime juce. Hive pinches one slice out of the wok, blowing on it briefly -- ow hot -- before holding it out between thumb and forefinger to Mel. "/Shit/," is what he says out loud, at the mention of the warrant. "Guess it was kind of inevitable." Flicker sucks down a mouthful of soda, head shaking. "But it was self-defense. I was /with/ him, he's not --" "... not like that." Hive is answering Mel's unspoken concern more than anything, exhaling heavily. "He was in so much pain, he didn't know -- but they fixed that. Now he's just --" "Lonely," Flicker says softly. "And kind of scared. Do we know a good lawyer?" Mel smiles a little and moves over to Hive's side, waiting for him to blow on the piece before leaning over to gently sink her teeth into the mushroom's flesh. Her lips close on his fingers briefly, sucking some of that seasoned juice off his fingers before standing up straight. There's only a mental note of how delicious it is, as the conversation seems to be getting away from them. "Oh. I was worried this was another terrorist accusation." Which would have unfortunately lumped Jax in. She inhales and nods as she listens, watching the interaction between the three others in the room. "If he's better... I'd love to see him. I suppose the legal problems come first though." Jax shrugs at the question of lawyer. "Working on it." Slice, slice, slice. "I don't think anyone's after us for our latest terrorism yet. How's the scramble?" He's directing this to Mel rather than Hive, as she's just had a bite, though he looks towards Hive after. Watching his posture, watching his hands. Looking away before he can let /too/ much concern crop up in his thoughts. "Think we're gonna have a /lot/ of partyin' comin' up. Everyone'll be outta school an' the Commons'll be /openin'/ an' that's gotta earn a crazy-big housewarmin', right?" "Nah, his his last one was in, what, January, so we probably have at /least/ until June before Jax is arrested for being a terrorist again? Though it'll be soon. And /actually/," Flicker replies, "the Commons is just going to be mandatory partying, all day every day? I thought you knew." "So much fucking noise," Hive grumbles at this notion. His fingertips brush against Melinda's lips before falling back to add the scallions to his wok. (Shakily, for Jax's observation; he moves slow and not very /steady/. Hence Flicker and Jax with the /knives/.) "Your fault for not soundproofing the place," Flicker answers Hive lightly. "Mmm. I will let you in on a secret. Hive is an amazing cook. The scramble is delicious." Mel's thoughts drift pleasantly back to Sunday's special meal and the feel of his fingers against her lips just now. She licks them and steps back. "I'm going to put Tola down, I think she'll be out for a little while now." She turns to leave the kitchen, catching a glimpse of Jax's concerned study. She continues out and to her bedroom, not chiming in on the conversation until that door is closed. "Well, you guys are going to have to make some quiet place for Hive and Tola to sleep or you're going to have a cranky telepath and a crying child to deal with." "He's cute when he's all domestic, isn't he?" Jax finishes with his slicing, moving on to cut segments of baguette for appropriate sandwiching. "The music room's gonna be soundproofed, right? That'd work for Tola but I don't know how you soundproof for a telepath." His brow rumples a moment later. "Actually you /can/ do that now, can't you? I don't think Oscorp's marketing that widely yet though. Probably hard to get your hands on. Maybe we should psi-block your bedroom." He has a crooked smile on as he finishes his cutting and turns back around, lifting his glass for a gulp of water. "You know. For all the constant partying. Since apparently we're moving into a perma-rave." "What, I'm not always cute?" Hive switches off the stove, slumping back in the chair once he sets his spoon down. His mouth twitches up at its corner. "Teep-blocking my bedroom? Fuck, I'd --" For a moment his eyes close, expression a little wistful. "But yeah. S'soundproofing on the music /and/ media rooms. For the --" He opens his eyes again to glance after Tola. "Non-ravers. Although she'd look good in glitter." "Mel," Flicker tells her very seriously when she comes back, "we're living with Hive. We're going to have a cranky telepath to deal with no matter /what/." "-- 'll beat you with this fucking spoon, boy." Hive makes a halfhearted reach for his spoon again but mostly just drops his hand back to his lap. "Okay. Cool. Eat up. S'some -- dressing to put on the bread and then scramble and. Cilantro and jicama and tomatos. Doctor your sandwich how you see fit. Did I time it okay?" He gives Jax a small mental nudge with this question, now that he has an eating /schedule/. Melinda bites her lip at the idea of what could possibly happen if Hive had a psi-blocked bedroom, then turns bright red when she remembers belatedly that he can hear that. She coughs. "I'm accustomed to Hive, but if he's sleep deprived, he will be what is actually cranky by his standards, and I don't think anyone wants that." Her hands freed up, she moves into the kitchen and grabs plates for everyone, leaving them by the food for now, so they can self serve. "Mmm. Can't wait, looks amazing, love."