ArchivedLogs:Not A Date

Not A Date
Dramatis Personae Ion, Jax, Micah	2014-05-21 Shortly after watch discovery.
Location <NYC> Tamarind - TriBeCa
The Tamarind Tribeca, the Suresh family restaurant, has been a staple in Tribeca for many years. It's been remodeled since the zombie riots, and it looks like the family put the insurance money to good use. The restaurant also has a growing reputation for being mutant friendly. The entrance has dark brown wooden benches, to sit and wait for a table, with the host's stand just off to the side from the door. The interior is all dark wood, with round tables of varying sizes seating two to eight. Two dozen paintings line the walls, showing various regions of India in stunning oil-paint landscapes. Each has a small brass placard attached to the wall just beneath, naming the area depicted there. Lining the far back wall are three alcoves with low tables and lush cushions lining the floor and walls, intended to seat small groups of six or so. Glass sconces on the walls provide a warm light for the little hideaways. Each individual alcove has a peaked arch for an entryway, framed with richly colored curtains in deep reds and shimmering golds, made of vintage sari materials and pulled aside with simple coordinating cords. Inside, the rich embroidery and texture of the fabric is echoed in subtle decorations and accents. On the back wall of each is a smaller oil painting of different Indian landscapes kitsched out to look like windows. The restaurant is known to have a higher end dinner service, but they do something a little different during lunch. Rather than regular table service, customers place their order with the host or hostess, and take a number to their table where the food is delivered fairly quickly. Evenings are full-service and carried out as classy as possible, catering to even the most obvious of mutants. Ion has never been known for his punctuality. Despite the fact that he is /totally/ wearing a Ridiculously Ostentatious Watch when he strolls into Tamarind -- God only knows why, it certainly isn’t to get him places on /time/. Aside from the Bling (he also has a shiny gold chain around his neck and a diamond stud glittering in one earlobe) he isn’t /entirely/ dressed to /impress/. Maybe he’s made an effort, in deference to the locale, but his wardrobe doesn’t /have/ a lot of Impress /in/ it. Tall stompy boots with black trousers, black button-down, black leather jacket with /small/ MMMC insignia. Motorcycle helmet tucked beneath one arm as he enters, glancing around and finally telling the hostess, "-- Hey no I’m meeting someone. Someones." Someones who are currently seated at a booth with glasses of water and menus in front of them, having informed the hostess that another member would be joining their party. Micah's wardrobe is perhaps less impressive (and certainly less ornamented) than Ion's, consisting of a cobalt blue button-down shirt over charcoal slacks. His hair does look like he might have combed it before heading out, at least. The old army green messenger bag on the floor at his feet is the same as always, however. Jax is always pretty ornamented, though his ornamentation is kind of drab in comparison, a sprinkling of colourful piercings, a spiky studded wristcuff on one wrist, rainbowy jelly bracelets on his other, his usual collar, silver and blue eyepatch, a long skirt in black with silver embroidery, deep blue blouse. He is running a finger around the rim of his glass, drawing a quiet hum from the crystal that ceases as he lifts a hand to curl chrome-painted nails in a wave to Ion. "Hey hey hey." Ion's smile is bright as he is ushered over to their booth. He slides into the bench opposite the others, shedding his jacket and dropping it and his helmet down onto the bench beside him. "See you again so soon, Cyborg, this my lucky week man. How you doin'?" Micah's attention is drawn from the menu to Jax's glass, then eventually to Ion as the other man's voice draws within hearing range. "Hey, hon. S'good t'see you, too. Doin' well. You?" He slides the spare menu from its place over at the edge of the table to a spot in front of Ion when he sits. "How's folks at the safehouse?" "Ion!" Jax chirrups cheerful-bright, smiling wide when the electrokinetic sits down. "Hiii, honey-honey. I got jealous. Micah was hoggin' all the Ion-time. I didn't get me none. Only seein' you Sundays, t'wasn't enough." He picks up his water glass, taking a small sip before he opens his menu. "Ay, yeah, my life it could use more sunshine too." Ion picks up his menu, too, opening it and glancing briefly down; his eyes skim only briefly over the page before he looks back up at the others. "Me? I'm always awesome. Safehouse it's. Safe. Busy. Crowded. Usual. You been this place before? What's good?" "Terrible-awful greedy behaviour," Micah agrees with a sad headshake, as if disappointed in himself, though his lips are curled in a playful grin. "Can take busy an' crowded s'long as safe stays in the mix. Good. S'there anythin' y'all need picked up we can bring in on Sunday?" He looks thoughtful at the question of food. "Hm. Think I've only had vegan things from here so far, so I can't recommend anythin' else. I'm partial t'okra an' eggplant so I usually end up with the bhindi masala or baingan bharta." The dish names grind a little oddly up against his usual Southern-accented speech. "I don't bring the sunshine with me no more." Jax sounds faintly regretful at this, nose wrinkling up as he frowns down at his menu. His fingers rub in against his temple, teeth wiggling at one lip ring. "I like the channa. An' the tadka dal, s'excellent. But he's right on the bhindi masala I always steal lots'a his." Ion shakes his head, fingers flicking in dismissal of Jax's statement. "{Bullshit.} Powers, no powers, you bring the sunshine always. OK safe it might be a, a, exaggerating? What's /safe/ in this place. But ain't nobody is dying. Safe /enough/." He shrugs a shoulder at the mention of Sunday. "Always want a food. Nobody say no at that." He closes his menu, setting it down again in front of himself. "How long I know you, you never ask me on a date before. What's the occasion now?" "Mango lassi's also pretty awesome. If y'like mango. An' fruity drink things." Micah's brow furrows at Jax's comment, his reply of, "Lies," simultaneous with Ion's calling bullshit. "Yeesh. Me bein' all greedy-hoardy an' you all wrapped up in complete falsehoods. Ain't nobody gonna wanna hang 'round us anymore..." He shrugs slightly at Ion's question. "Safe...yeah, nobody dyin' or gettin' kidnapped or tortured. I think that may be the line now. S'a sad place t'have a line, but there it is." Micah hesitates to bring up the issue of the watch before Ion has even had a chance to order. He arches a brow slightly instead. "This is a date, then?" Totally deflected. Jax's cheeks flush deep, a small shy smile playing on his lips. "Jus' -- not quite so. /Direct/ as I. Used to." He rubs a hand at the back of his neck, folding his menu closed as well. "How could anyone not like mango, s'delicious. I stick with limeade though. They salt it. S'an interestin' kinda flavour." His blush deepens further at the mention of dates. "Do we /need/ an occasion?" "Still look plenty sunny from where I am sit." Ion rolls a shoulder in a lazy shrug, his smile lazy as well. His fingers lace together loosely on the edge of the table, dark eyes flicking between the other two men. "You asked me, vato. You should know. Pretty clothes. Fancy restaurant. What /you/ call it?" Micah rubs a hand up Jax's back. "Maybe not as /literally/ as before. Don't make it no less true, though." The question of mango earns a shrug. "Some folks have strange allergies. Or just /very/ dif'rent tastes. I've met people as didn't like /chocolate/, so anythin's possible." His cheeks pick up some of Jax's blush; apparently it's contagious. "Just checkin'. Not any occasion, just wanted t'talk a bit." He closes his menu again, leaning his head on Jax's shoulder briefly. "I'll get the bhindi so's y'can thief. Round out our list of evils for the day." "Didn't like chocolate?" Jax's breath catches in a sharp disbelieving gasp, exaggerated shock in his expression. "You sure they was human?" He turns his head, pressing a kiss to Micah's forehead. "I call it dinner," he answers Ion lightly. "/Delicious/ dinner, this place is -- oh hi!" this is to the server, bright and cheerful when she comes to take their order. /He/ orders channa, and a garlic naan. "Evils? You two? How much evils you do in a day I don't really see." Ion shakes his head, clicking his tongue against his teeth. "Steal his okra that's maybe the worst thing all day you do. -- Yo I think I try that, what you called. Eggplant. Baingan. And a mango lassi. Por favor." His brows raise at Jax's answer, lips curling upward. "/Not/ no date, then? What's a guy gotta do. Aright, then, what you want to talk about?" "Didn't get no genetic tests run, so I can't tell y'that as a certainty. But I think so." Micah giggles at Jax's disbelief. "Was just playin' on accounta the...lies an' the greedy-hoardin' an'... Maybe I done stretched that joke a bit thin." He pauses to order the bhindi and a mango lassi of his own. "Not necessarily either s'just...talkin' an' dinner." His cheeks pick up a brighter layer of red. "S'about the watch. I know y'said it was okay an' for...because of the raids an' all, s'just..." "I don't know, you trust the news ever we get up to all /kinds/'a evils. Plottin' to bring down decent society." Jax sounds positively cheerful about this, though the mention of the watch starts creeping red back into his cheeks as well. "Ohgosh. Ion, that watch was --" "-- oh shit," Ion cuts in here, "what you didn't like that one? Too much, no? That one it was kind-of-bright I know. Here this maybe it match with more. I just thinked maybe Sunshine he like the silly rainbows." He unstraps the watch he's /currently/ wearing, now -- decidedly /less/ rainbowy with just a black band, white-gold face, transparent dial. There are still diamonds crusting it. It still has /bling/. But less ridiculously /colored/ bling. "This it better?" "Oh, honey, no. Not...in the way y'mean, but, yeah. It might be too much." Micah's cheeks flare even darker red as Ion starts taking off yet /another/ watch. "No. No, please. The other one is more than...fine. Please, keep that. It's just. We looked up the company as made the watch y'gave us. An' thank you, that was /so/...sweet an generous an'... Honey, d'you know how much that thing's worth?" "Ohgoshno." Jax's eye opens even wider when Ion takes off his watch, head shaking emphatically. "Nono sweetie that's -- that ain't what -- you keep that it's. It's fine it." He raises a hand palm out, gently pressing the watch back into Ion's hand. "It's just that the one you gave us --" He gestures towards Micah. "Honey-honey, that was. Way /too/ generous of a -- did you really mean to -- I can't even hardly wrap my /mind/ around a gift like that." Ion just looks puzzled, now. His fingers curl back in around the watch, his brows furrowing faintly as the others speak. "Is just a watch, dogs. Got some pretty sparkle to it, eh? Like you." He waves the one in his hand towards Jax's face. "Think maybe you get yourself a day off work huh? You work too hard, both-you." "No, hon, it's... Apparently some folks is crazy how much they'll pay for a watch." Micah shakes his head, finally giving up and pulling out his phone to bring up one of the pages they had found last night listing the watch's price. He slides this across the table to Ion. "That was kinda one of those. We appreciate your help so much, y'don't even know. Just wanted t'make sure y'was givin' somethin' y'/meant/ to." Jax picks up his water again, ice rattling in his cup as he takes a sip. He rubs his fingers against his temple once he sets his glass down again. "It's kinda -- I was floored when we looked it up we jus' -- wanted t'make sure that was what y'really --" He waves his fingers towards Micah's phone. "An' I mean if that /is/ what you intended, Ion, honey-honey, that's -- I don't even know /how/ to -- thank you for -- I mean. Gosh." Ion takes the phone, looking down towards the screen with a small deepening of his frown. His eyes fix downwards in a slow uncertain stare, scanning it uncertainly for a time; he looks over the page a couple times, thumb running against the screen a few times before stopping, finally, on the price listed there. It takes a while but his eyes widen; he lets out a low whistle, and then a rough bark of laughter. "{Holy /shit/, Jesus Christ. What the fuck is wrong with rich people, someone's gotta be smoking the /good/ crack.}" He /doesn't/ put the second watch back on; he slides it almost casually across the table to them. "You for /real/, dog? Take a /month/ off work. Take a year." "Yeah, I had /no/ idea when y'gave that t'me that it was...that." Micah gestures at the phone, then eventually takes it back and returns it to his pocket when Ion is done looking at it. "It's kinda unbelievable, ain't it?" His eyes just widen again, looking down at the /second/ watch. "No...honey. We was makin' sure y'even meant t'give us the /first/ one, not. Ohgosh, that's... If y'wanna keep givin' that kinda thing away, maybe for maintainin' the safehouses or somethin' might be a good place. We just can't keep...takin'. It's so much." He runs a hand up the back of his now-also-red neck, expression extremely sheepish. Jax /flails/ a hand out across the table, bapping at Ion's knuckles with a bright crimson blush. "/Ion/ oh/gosh/ stoppit honey you -- oh /gosh/ y'can't. We don't. Y'can't." He claps his hands to his cheeks, scrunching his eye closed and digging his teeth against his lip. "You gotta have so much better things to do with --" He opens his eye again to wave towards the watch on the table. "'ppreciate the thought, sweetie, but. You don't gotta -- give us --" "I really don't," Ion answers with a crooked grin. "I mean, my people I take care of thems too. Like I said I got plenty more these anyhow. But better than you all? What's that? You risk your life for us all the /time/. Ain't no better. I want. To look after my people. /And/ yours. All you do for every-fucking-body, how many people do for you?" His grin curls up just a little wider. "Come on. This not-date-dinner, it's on me." Micah buries his face in his hands for a moment before looking up with a still-sheepish grin. "Honey, that's the opposite of. What we were intendin'. But thank you. If you're sure that's what y'meant t'do. S'about the most generous thing I've ever. Just. Thanks, sugar." Jax's blush is getting no chance to leave any time soon, it seems. He goes from bapping Ion's knuckles to curling his hands around one of Ion's, drawing Ion's hand close to press a kiss to the back of the other man's fingers before releasing them. "Ion, sweetie, that's -- I. I don't even. Know how to -- thank you. That's the most --" His head shakes, his hand skimming slow over the top of his recently-inked skull; it peels some of the fresh tattoo away and he wrinkles his nose, flicking the flakes of ink off his fingertips. Ion pushes the watch over to set it beside Jax's plate. "Ain't the most nothin'. You want I list every fucking thing you done for the world? For /me/? I could. Make you blush a fuck-ton more. I won't, though. Not till /after/ you eat. Let you both have dinner a little bit in peace. Shit, though. I never knowed I been wearing a motherfucking Ferrari on my wrist, yo." Micah stands to slide over into Ion's bench for a hug. Because he's not getting away without hugs after all that. "Not just /a/, if alla your watches come from the same place. Several. Got like...a fleet of 'em. Most expensive wrist ever." He squeezes a little harder before letting Ion go, returning to his own seat. "Don't think I'm gonna complain 'bout a peaceful dinner. Just...thank you. Again." Jax leans back in his seat, reaching to trace a fingertip lightly around the face of the watch but then drop his hand away from it. His head shakes, his smile lingering -- as does his blush. "Think the blushin's kinda here to stay. I -- thank you, honey-honey. I don't -- I just." He scrubs his hand against his cheek, resting his cheek in his palm afterwards. "Jus' -- thank you." Ion curls his arm around Micah in return, hug coming as it often does with a small zap of energy though after this it's just fierce and tight. "Is not enough of good people around, you know. Is it so strange, that you deserve sometimes to --" His hand squeezes at Micah's shoulder, tight, and then releases. He leans back in his seat, too, and he grins across the table at Jax, bumping his shoulder up against Micah's. "/Next/ time, though, maybe? Maybe next time, it's a date." Micah chuckles as he settles back into his seat. "We're not the best folks to have around if y'don't want blushin' t'happen. Kinda shows up a lot. An' I think we both make the other one worse about it." He returns the grin, true to his statement and not any less red, however. "Sounds like a plan."