ArchivedLogs:Overexcited

Overexcited
Dramatis Personae Doug, Melinda, Tola	2014-06-23 '
Location <NYC> The Mendel Clinic - Lower East Side
With its sharp crystalline edges and sleek lines knifing up into the sky, this building is one of the most /distinctive/ new additions to the neighborhood. An angular structure in glass and steel, the tall tower has a deceptively slender look to it that is belied by the heavy security as soon as you enter the doors. The front doors are frosted with the Clinic's logo -- a rising sun over a rod of Asclepius -- a motif echoed in many places throughout the building. Visitors to the clinic must first pass through a small mantrap, guarded by some of the Clinic's security guards; once they make it through the metal detector and airlock's double doors they emerge into the much more hospitable lobby. With dark wood floors underneath and comfortable black and red couches at its edges, the high windows give the room an airy feel. A bank of elevators to one side carry visitors to the many destination floors, while the wide welcome desk at the other side is manned by a security guard ready to help point visitors in the right direction. The sun is gently warming the streets of New York City to a temperature somewhere in the mid-eighties, even though things feel a little hotter than that. Melinda is wearing a mint and denim wrap skirt that hangs a little baggy around her waist and brushes the tops of her feet. She's got a navy blue tee on her torso, but it's difficult to see under the emerald wrap that holds her child to her chest. She is happy to accept the escort onto the medical campus, despite the fact that the protesters aren't very heavy today. It gives her an opportunity to chat with Flicker before he leaves her at the door to go back to work. Once inside, she takes a seat on a bench and starts working to undo the wrap around Tola, releasing a squirming green baby into her arms, one that happens to be wearing a Fluttershy onesie, complete with a hood that has eyes, ears and a mane, the tail on her backside only leaving a few stray bits of soft fleece peeking out from underneath her. There, the pair wait, Mel putting the wrap into the diaper bag at her side, Tola scoping out the interior and her mother, as best as her young neck muscles will allow her to move her head. Doug is already here, although he's not in the waiting area when Melinda arrives. He emerges from the men's room, pushing the black Buddy Holly-style glasses up on his nose. He's dressed in a blue plaid button-down with short sleeves rolled up over his bicep, and a pair of jeans with red Converse sneakers. He stops at the desk to speak to the attendant there in a low voice, then moves to find his seat again. He pauses at the sight of Melinda and her little wrigglepony, and there's a beat while he thinks on that. His jaw drops a bit as he puts things together, and then he offers a small smile for the older woman. "Hey, Melinda," he says, finding a seat not too far away. "How've you been?" Mel looks up when she hears the door open, looking a little expectant, but when the form of the individual who leaves the mens room doesn't match her expectations, she glances down again without looking at his face. She is turning her attention back to Tola when the voice reaches her ears, drawing her gaze upwards once more. "Oh. Hey there." She gives a smile as well, her eyes searching his face. "How are you doing?" Up close, Doug looks a bit worn-out. Dark circles are visible under his eyes, behind the glasses, and his skin seems a bit pale. "Eh. I'm in a clinic waiting room, so 'fine' would probably be a relative term." He chuckles, and reaches up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. "I've had a migraine for the last day or so, but other than that I've been okay." He smiles, and straightens a bit in his seat, leaning towards mother and child. "Who's this?" he asks, nodding at Tola. "She's adorable." "Ah, this is Tola. She's here for her check up." Mel gives Doug a sympathetic smile as he describes his situation, her lips settling into a pursed formation when the description is over. "You have a neurologist here, or are you just going to a GP?" The infant is still young, only two months old, so not very good at focusing on particulars yet. She manages to grab a hold of the braid that rests on Mel's shoulder and is tugging on it gently like it will do something interesting. "She's pretty," Doug says, his smile softening as Tola catches hold of Mel's hair. "Jim and Hive were talking about her when I ran into them a couple of weeks ago, but I didn't know who they meant. How old is she?" He waggles his fingers in the air to further amuse the baby. To Mel's question, he shrugs. "I'm just seeing a GP for now," he says. "To just increase the dosage on the stuff I'm already taking. I just moved into a neighborhood with a lot of different languages going on, so I'll probably settle out." He smiles, and lifts a shoulder. "Save the neurologist for later. Give me something to look forward to." "Oh? And what did the proud papas have to say about their little bundle of joy?" Melinda raises an eyebrow, shifting the child so she could see Doug if she happens to look in his direction. "She's nine weeks old last Saturday. Little charmer gets people wrapped around her fingers, but really, I think it's the petals that draw people in." She gives a little shrug. "I'm still waiting for someone to be allergic to her." She nods her way through the description of the problems he is having with the people around him, even if the somewhat distracted look in her eyes gives a hint she has no idea why this would affect him. "Well, here's to hoping the neurologist is not needed." "They were discussing furniture for her," Doug says, with a furrow of his brow. He doesn't seem surprised at the revealed dual fatherhood, although there's a hint of amusement in the small curl of his lips. "And looking at a bed that seems entirely too big for her for at least three more years." He lifts his eyebrows, and spreads his hands. "I think we talked more about desks, honestly." There's more finger-waggling now that Tola's in a better position to see it, a waggling that slowly works its way into the ABCs in ASL. "I don't think anyone could be allergic to her," he says, glancing over at Mel. "Unless they're allergic to cute." He notes the look in Melinda's eye at his explanation. Luckily, his ability makes deciphering it not impossible, and he smiles as he reaches up to tap the side of his head. "My ability," he says. "I can understand any man-made language. I get too many different ones around me, though, it can be a bit painful." He crosses his fingers, and wags them at Melinda good-naturedly. "So you're living in the group house thing Hive built, then?" "She probably produces pollen too. I haven't really noticed, but it's likely all along her scalp." Pollen dandruff? Very possible. Melinda glances up at the ASL and smiles a little, looking back to Tola. "You may want to start with words. Kids learn those before they learn how to spell." She inhales deeply and chews on her lip, delivering a little nod. "Yeah, I've noticed a lot of mutations have a hard time with overload. Sorry to hear you're going through a difficult time." She pulls her braid free from the child's hand and starts tickling her nose with it. Tola responds by reaching for it again. "Well, co-housing. More houses, less group like. More like a neighborhood. I've got an apartment in a duplex. How about you? Where'd you end up?" "She's kind of like a miniature version of Jayna," Doug grins, and shifts his signing to caption what he's saying -- although it's a more kid-friendly version of it. "The barista over at Happy Cakes? Have you met her?" He wrinkles his nose, considering that, and ducks his head. "You probably have. Pollen dandruff sounds way cute, though." He shrugs at the sympathy for his migraine, and blinks hard once. "It'll get better," he re-assures...probably Melinda, though it also could very well be for his benefit. "And a migraine is nothing, compared to what others go through with /their/ overloads." The correction about the housing complex gets a small flush, and Doug smiles a little. "I wasn't sure exactly how it worked out," he admits. "I sort of pictured some weird building made up of different kinds of houses." He smiles a bit sheepishly, and shrugs. "Just from the different things I heard were going into it, I mean." He jerks his head northward at the question. "I'm in Little Italy, now," he says. "I found a good roommate in a nice building, there." He shrugs. "It's nice. Migraine aside." "You've guessed it. I'm not her mother, just a babysitter. Jayna's the one who has borne a seed and the nongay couple has adopted her," Mel jokes to lighten the mood a little. "She's my neighbor. Have to say that situation is a terrible way to lose the baby weight, but a good way to always have nearby babysitters." She leans back, letting the child hold her braid in both hands now. She's trying to move it to her mouth. "It's a whole community. Buildings everywhere. Kind of nice, I think, but I may be biased. Is Little Italy affecting your waist line?" Doug chuckles at Mel's joke, and shakes his head. "There are worse things to live next to than free cupcakes and childcare," he notes. "It sounds kind of awesome. Even though I don't really need any babysitters." He sniffs, and his smile turns a bit wistful as Melinda describes the Commons. "That sounds really awesome," he says, fingers twining the words into the air absently. "To live with friends in a neighborhood all together like that...." He trails off, staring into space for a long moment before Mel's question seems to sink in, and he /blinks/ before he looks in her direction again. "Huh? Oh, no. Not really," he says, lifting a shoulder. "But I work out, and get a lot of walking-slash-running at work, so the food doesn't really have a chance to settle." He lifts his eyebrows and grins. "It's good food, though. There's a place down the street from my building that does a mean vegetarian lasagna." "Hippie communes have their advantages," Melinda replies. A quiet trill catches her attention and she leans to the side to grab her cell phone out of her diaper bag. She frowns at the screen. She sends a quick message back and turns to look back at Doug. "You're getting excited over a bunch of buildings, hun. And you're building it up pretty high. I thought you liked your current place? It's certainly less of a target, in a way. If you've been getting along with your roommates, you've probably got a good set up. Focus on the vegetarian lasagna." "I don't know that I'm /excited/," Doug says, wrinkling his nose. "But it /would/ be awesome. Believe it or not, I /do/ miss living near my friends." There's a flicker of shadow across his features; a blink of uncertainty as the statement leaves his mouth. "I like my place fine," he says, shrugging. "My room mate is cool, and it comes with the bonus of not being my parents' house." He reaches up to rub at the bridge of his nose a bit more vigorously, wincing slightly. "The vegetarian lasagna /rocks/," he mumbles, closing his eyes. "The spaghetti bolognese is pretty wicked, too." Melinda stands up and begins to gather her things. "I... apologize." She pulls Tola close to her shoulder as she stands up. "I'm not trying to play down what you want so much." She inhales and wrinkles her nose. "The person I was waiting for is running late. I have to go up to pediatrics so I don't miss my appointment. I hope yours goes well." She inhales deeply and gives a little finger wiggle to wave goodbye. "Good luck."