ArchivedLogs:New Beginnings
New Beginnings | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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2015-12-16 "When everything is chaos, there is a sense of order in that." |
Location
<NYC> Tessier Residence - Greenwich Village | |
Understated opulence claims this spacious and well-kept townhome, the decor throughout the whole of it of the highest quality and carefully chosen. The front door opens onto the entrance hall, a closet close at hand to receive coats and shoes -- the pale hardwood floors gleam underfoot, unsullied by tracked-in mess from outside. The living room beyond the entrance is all dark woods and pale earth tones, comfortable couches and armchairs and a thick soft rug laid down beneath. Two large and painstakingly aquascaped aquariums flank the entrance to the dining room, with several brightly coloured species of fish within. Most of the rest of the wall space, notably, is taken up with shelves -- shelves crammed with books of every subject and genre. A study branching off of the main hall is cozy, small, done in pale blues and lined with books as well around the large computer desk and smaller futon, though these rarer books are cased behind glass. Another securely locked door leads to the basement, and another to the full bathroom downstairs. The kitchen connects to the living room; in contrast, it is sleek and modern and well-appointed, stocked by someone who takes their cooking seriously. And takes their alcohol equally seriously -- to one side of the kitchen there is a fully-stocked bar. The back door to the kitchen looks out on a small well-kept garden. The house is quiet -- ish. Somewhere upstairs music is playing, muffled through the floor and Gaetan's closed bedroom door. The kitchen faucet is running -- nominally, Lucien is doing dishes, dinner having finished some long while before. Nominally. He's in dark socks, jeans, the sleeves of his green button-down are neatly cuffed up above his elbows. The pan at his hands has not been getting any cleaner for some while; his fingers are curled around the handle, the scrub brush in his other hand, but for many long minutes he's just been staring at the running water without actually moving. Matt descends the stairs, a weary drag in his silent, bare-foot steps. He's wearing a black t-shirt with the silhouette of man clutching a book to his chest, engulfed in abstract orange flames, and blue flannel pajama pants covered with TARDISes. After putting the kettle on rather automatically, he goes to Lucien. He says nothing, neither does he attempt to affect the ostensible dish-washing. He just wraps his arms around his brother's waist and rests his cheek against the back of his neck. Lucien's fingers tighten very slightly against the handle of the scrubbing brush. He leans back into Matt's hold, a slow shiver of warmth trickling from him to his brother. Soft. Soothing. Whispering out to quiet -- though not erase -- the edges of pain and anger. There's a knock at the door. Quiet, somewhat tentative. Jax fidgets on the doorstep outside, plucking at the cuff of his canvas jacket. He's dressed blandly, olive drab hiking pants, hiking boots, a red and black tee. A canvas bag hangs over one shoulder. Matt slowly relaxes against Lucien, eyes sliding shut. They open again a moment later. The shift in the focus of Matt's power, certainly familiar enough to Lucien, indicates he senses someone approaching. "Jax," he says, just a second before the knock. It takes him an uncharacteristically long moment to muster the will to answer the door, but by the time he tugs the door open to receive their guest there's a soft, tired smile on his lips. "Want some tea?" are the first words out of his mouth. Lucien's brows knit together. Matt's announcement just has him leaning more /firmly/ into the embrace, a fiercer swell of soothing-warm-pleasure rushing from his touch as if this would, perhaps, drown out the incoming Visitor. The actual knock pulls him back into motion at last, though, blinking and finally returning to scrubbing the previously ignored pan. Jax dips his head in a nod, a faint flush already dusting his cheeks. 'Please,' his hand circles his chest flat-palmed. "That'd be lovely." He slips inside, crouching at the door to untie his boots and take them off. "I know it -- ain't -- um. I just had some -- baking and I thought y'all might like..." He hefts his canvas bag in apologetic explanation -- though admittedly it looks a little more weighed down than some pastries would suggest. "Merci." Matt unburdens Jax of his bag of baked goods (out of purely selfless courtesy, of course) and draws him into the kitchen. "Just got our Yule teas in. Fresh, strong Lapsang Souchong." So saying, he pulls a canister out of their tea cabinet and shakes it tantalizingly. "Though...we both have work tomorrow, so maybe should go for oolong, instead." His voice wavers a little, but he keeps going. "How about this Formosa bai-hao? Good compromise, no?" He's taken down another canister, and giving off the impression that he might just contine babbling if no one stops him. "Ali shan." Lucien rinses off his pan, setting it in the rack above the sink to dry. He wipes his hands on a towel, moving over to pluck the canvas bag from his brother and set it on a counter to peer inside. "There are more than a few stores opening back up, now. Some day soon, I should take you shopping." "What? Oh, I --" Jax looks down at his clothing with a deeper blush, running a hand over the lightweight fabric of his hiking pants. "You don't -- gotta -- I mean, I -- it ain't hardly a -- I do need to take the /kids/ to --" His nose wrinkles, head shaking quickly. His eye tracks after Matt, a crease forming between his brows. The canvas bag holds food, as promised -- on top a container has lemon and chocolate-raspberry scones, but underneath this there are plastic takeout containers holding several days' worth of real food -- black eyed peas with mustard greens, chickpea gravy and mashed potatoes, baked marinated tofu, lentil sweet potato stew. Jax shifts slightly from one foot to the other as Lucien looks into the bag. "... jus'. Weren't sure if y'all would... want to. Be spending time on. Cooking." His hand rubs over his head. "Oolong sounds great. Any of those." Matt returns the other canisters to the cabinet and takes down the Ali Shan oolong instead. He seems somewhat grateful for not needing to make that decision, and sets about the task of prepping a teapot quite automatically. He does lean toward the scones a little, licking his dry, chapped lips. "Oh...wow. That's very kind of you." He looks at Jax, too. Shakes his head a few times. "It's the season for new beginnings," he says, absently. Turns and clicks off the fire beneath the kettle just as it begins whistling faintly. "Clothes. Make sense." "Certainly, I do not have to." Lucien's fingers trace lightly over the lids of the containers as he extracts them from the bag. He stacks them neatly on the counter, for a moment just studying them before he turns to tuck all the cooked food into the fridge. The scones he leaves out, getting a plate to set three out. "Did you bring all this because you had to?" Quietly he retrieves three mugs, setting them out on the counter alongside the plate of scones. Jax's cheeks flush again, and he looks away from the food with a quiet exhalation. "New beginnings." His arms curl around his chest, and he drifts over towards the living room, lingering in the doorway and looking out towards the aquariums. "That's -- fitting. 'least, feels like we all got a whole lot of work to do from here." He's a little wry with the admission: "Cooking feels like the part of it I know how to handle." Matt loads a round, glossy black teapot with the tightly bunched tea leaves and fills it with water. He actually sets a timer (rare for him), but then stays there and just stares at the tea while it steeps, hands braced on the counter in front of him. "Is it bad that I don't feel like I have a lot of work to do? I just..." His words trail off there and he doesn't bother picking them back up. He does, however, look up at Jax. "Bad for who? There is some comfort in knowing." Lucien leans back against the opposing counter from Matt, eyes focused on his brother rather than Jax. "How to be useful. What to do. Some way to be of service. When everything is chaos, there is a sense of order in that. I do not think there is any particular value judgment in -- having work, or not having it. But for your own sake --" His hands shift, palms resting on the counter at his sides. A thin smile curls at his lips. "/I/ have seen a sharp spike in booking requests, at any rate. Perhaps I should order clients to help on cleanup crews. Two birds." Jax's head dips, a flutter of red briefly tinting the air around him. "... it is sometimes nice," he agrees, "to..." This trails off, for a moment. He shakes his head, straightening up with a quick breath and turning back in towards the kitchen. "Feel like I might not even know where to /start/ with the work but --" Another quick shrug. "Having a team does sorta help with that. 'specially when I get to be taking orders 'stead'a having to give 'em." "{For me,}" Matt's reply comes in French, before he remembers himself and translates it. "For me. But I don't like to be away from Sera for too long. /Work/ work is work enough." He starts when the timer goes off and, silencing it, pours out three mugs of light, fragrant oolong tea. "I had pretty much decided to join, you know? Before the outbreak." Claiming one of the mugs, he looks somewhat more his usual self even before he's taken a sip. Lucien brings the plate of scones into the living room, setting it down on the coffee table before returning to bring the other two mugs out there as well. He keeps one of them, settling down in an armchair with it and tucking his legs up beneath himself. "I can help her when you are not home." His voice is quiet. "{For you...}" His eyes have turned down to his tea. "You need a change." Jax pulls away from the doorway when Lucien moves, drawn in the other man's wake to drift -- after Lucien, after the /tea/, taking the final mug and wrapping his hands around it. He doesn't sit, not quite yet. He looks back towards Matt, worrying at a lip ring with the tip of his tongue. "I didn't know you'd made up your mind. It's -- I mean. Havin' you at our backs would be..." He draws in another slow breath. "Do you think it /would/ be good? Having. Something else to focus on sometimes. I don't -- know. If that makes it better or worse, for you." Matt is slow to follow the other two, but finally does enter the living room as well. "The outbreak put a lot of things on hold." He touches Jax's elbow lightly as he passes, and sinks down heavily onto the couch. "I'm worrying about her all day even as it is," he admits. "But maybe...after Yule? At least won't be busy with school during winter break." Snagging one of the scones, he nibbles at it and takes a very small sip of his tea. "New beginnings," Lucien murmurs. "If ever there was a time to join that team..." He trails off, now, lifting his mug for a slow drink. Jax closes his eye at the passing touch from Matt, a small tremor in the light around him. There's a small unsteady wobble in his posture, but he straightens, moving over to slowly sink down and take a seat on the floor at the base of the sofa. He kneels by Matt, tipping his head in to rest at the base of the couch. "Spence'll be off school soon enough, too. I should... bring him by." With both hands occupied, Matt looks momentarily conflicted. But ultimately he puts down his tea so he can settle that hand, soft and trembling and still very warm, onto Jax's head. "Yeah," he agrees softly, closing his eyes. "That'll be good." |