ArchivedLogs:Parties and Drama

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Parties and Drama
Dramatis Personae

Desiree, Ivan, Jim, Kris, Melinda, Peter, Rasa, Sebastian, Shelby, Spencer

2013-04-27


Drama kills the roof top party for the twins.

Location

<NYC> Village Lofts - Rooftop - East Village


It tends to be windy, up here, but the presence of plastic table and folding chairs suggests that nevertheless building residents occasionally make their way out to this rooftop. With a good view of Tompkins Square Park less than a block away it's a good spot for city-watching. There's a railing around the edge, though it might be possible (if /unwise/) to climb over it to the narrow concrete ledges beyond and from there to the fire escape. Centrally, someone has broken down crates and constructed a small raised-bed garden up here, barren in winter but filled in three other seasons with a small assortment of herbs and vegetables.

The twins couldn't have chosen a better weekend to return--the weather above the city is /perfect/ for a party. 70 degrees out, clear skies and just enough of a breeze to let city-dwellers pretend that pollution is /other/ cities' problems. With the entire building (or at least a couple of floors) taken over by revelers, a number have spilled out onto the roof and Shelby is one of these. Less due to the weather and more because /cigarettes/. The ginger teen is fetched up against the railing overlooking the park, dressed in skinny jeans and an oversized (baggy) hoodie with hood /up/, she is pulling fiercely through the filter of her coffin nail and watching the smoke drift silver in the direction of the trees.

"Gimme your lighter," gruffs Jim, thumping a hip down alongside Shelby's left flank. Good weather means he's abandoned his corduroy and tweed for a Hawaiian button up over a wife beater. No joke, he even has the cargo shorts and -- flipflops? It all sort of clashes with the vague green-brown veining working up his arms and down his legs from his brief investigational communion with the vegetable garden. No, he didn't eat anything. A few might have even been absently spruced up.

Snkkt. Snkkt. Snkkt. Peter's crutches make an unusual sound on the roof paving. For the sake of the party, the boy's clad in his black hoodie, blue jeans, sneakers, glasses, and - a fez. He's wearing - where did he get a fez. /Why/ did he get a fez. Did anyone tell him that fezzes are... no, nevermind. He's pushing his way up and out of the door, moving with surprising speed - talking while he pops up on the roof: "I /think/ they're up here, I just wanna see if they still have the weeeebsh..." Pause. Survey. /Is/ there a Shane / Sebastian up here? Hm. Maybenot.

Coming up just behind Peter is one slim tall teenager with bright green eyes and hair recently shorn pixie-short. She is also in shorts, denim, and a plain white tank, simple and bland. Desi has a hat, a weatherbeaten old houndstooth fedora, and she holds the door as the crutch'd boy swings through. "Hey, have you seen two, um, sharks?" she is asking the roof at large. She currently holds a large bowl full of guacamole -- she /might/ have stolen /all/ the guac for herself -- and is dipping a tortilla chip into it from a bag tucked beneath her arm. "Woah, fez. Can we trade?"

"Peter Peter-- excuse me." It is the tiniest of voices, from behind Desi, and with an unmistakably Russian accent tacked onto it. It is Ivan! Not actually invited but here anyway, apparently. His arms are folded across his stomach and he's wearing a (slightly grass stain streaked) white dress shirt, jeans and sneakers. He's managed to fall behind and is apparently /very eager/ to catch up with Peter, hurridly moving to sliiip past as if he's attached to his roommate by some sort of invisible rope that's about to snap if he doesn't join his side right away. His eyes dart back and forth like a turret searching for potential enemies. Only he is not looking to fire bullets. He's looking to fire uncomfortable stares.

Melinda wanders in after Jim, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jeans, her shirt is a kurti of pale blue. She is wearing a red beret, which is a little warm for the weather, but a hat never the less. She has flip flops on that smack her foot every time she lifts them. She also spies the boy on crutches and raises an eyebrow, but her gaze is definitely drawn to the bowl of guacamole. "Ohhh.. Are you sharing that? I don't think the twins are up here right now. Sorry."

Look, HERE IS A -- no wait it's not a shark. It is a very SUDDEN small boy, arms full with a Very Large box of sidewalk chalk and a few containers of bubbles balanced atop it. Spencer looks immensely pleased with himself, perhaps for making it to the roof with all these things still present and accounted for. He /also/ has a hat, it is very very purple and very very fuzzy and flops down over his hair bucket-like. "/Peter/ why do you have /crutches/ did someone /hurt you/?" This is the only thing he currently wants to know, as he sets the chalk-bucket down.

"You look like a fucking tourist," Shelby informs Jim as she digs in the pocket of her hoodie. A cheap corner store lighter (neon pink!) is produced and tipped towards him for the taking. Then she turns to rest back against the railing, elbows braced on the metal and cigarette smoldering between two fingers. Note: she is not wearing a hat, unless the hood counts. So /there/. "Check it out, the cavalry done arrived. Oh fuck yes, /chalk/." Party mood /found/.

"Yeah, well, you look like a fucking hoodlum." Jim falls victim to Ivan's Uncomfortable Stare and he flat-out rolls to soak the damage, staring deadpan /back/ at the boy while he lights his smoke from beneath a massively floral straw hat, loaded down with daisies and mums and some embellishing baby's breath and a few curly FERN fronds. He's like a frowning stone urn holding it all up. The clump of crutches pull his attention, SPARING Ivan, and he grunts to maybe Melinda, maybe Shelby, "Who're these AND that is my hat." All one single statement. Which he isn't making any motions to reclaim - he is staring at the girl wearing it. BEMUSED. He extends a hand when Spencer arrives without looking at him - come here, child. Let me RUMPLE your HAIR.

OhGod, all of the people. Peter freezes for a moment when he sees Desi opening the door for him; his face, for whatever reason, turns /very/ red. A moment later and he's looking up at his fez embarassedly, as if he /just/ realized he's wearing it. "Oh - I, um - maybe--" IVAN to the rescue. He immediately swings out onto the rooftop, k-kshing with his crutches to get out of the way of all the /people/ ohwow. And then there's a Spencer, too, and Peter's eyes are darting this way and that - to Spencer he responds simply: "I was practicing my knife catching act and I /missed/." One of the crutches proceeds to tap the injured leg, as if to indicate the consequences inherent in Playing With Knives. Then: "Spence I heard you went underwater that is /bananas/."

"Do /you/ want to trade?" Yes, Desi is offering to /trade/ Jim back his own hat. "Cuz I don't apparently get the fez. I think I'd kind of rock a fez, though." She wanders closer to Melinda, not actually /relinquishing/ her guacamole, but turning so that both bag of chips and bowl of guac are accessible. "Did you know there was an octopus in the lobby?" It's possible she's talking about Taylor, although she sounds more /impressed/ than freaked out.

Ivan also does not have a hat. Perhaps no one told him there was supposed to be a hat. Just like no one ever told him it was impolite to stare at people, apparently, because Jim's stare back garners only /more/ blankfaced peering in return. His eyes ever so slightly narrow in recognition but then there are people he does not know at all, which prompts him to sidle closer to Peter again, maybe in an attempt to disappear behind him. At the mention of an /octopus/, a few moths decide to escape from the collar of his shirt and proceed to fly away in seemingly random directions, one cruising by Spencer's head as it does.

"No, I guess I missed him on the way in," Melinda takes a handful of chips from the bag and begins lazily dipping into the guac as she mills, apparently not in a hurry to do anything else but enjoy the green goodness. "How are you? I like the haircut. Brings out your eyes." She blinks at Ivan and the moths, chip loaded with guac hovering at shoulder level as she stares back. She's heard about moths eating clothes before, but not while people are in them!

"What the fuck, man," Jim moves his cigarette away from his mouth to make this statement an /apalled/ enough, "Let the lady wear the fez." He goes for the guacamole and chip, so that he's double-fisting both smoke-and-food. Melinda blinking at Ivan's moths warrants a casual, flat-toned, "Kid does bugs." Yup. That's it.

When Desi mentions trading hats with /Jim/ - and Jim gives Peter a sharp reprimand for waffling! - Peter k-kshes a little closer with his crutches - giving a quick wayward glance this way and that to make sure the coast is clear - and then! THWP. His wrist snaps up, a gray strand flinging out to attempt and seize Desi's hat - give it a quick, sharp tug - even as the hat on his head is flipped off and rolled down the length of one arm, a quick upward /snap/ of fingertips aiming to launch it briefly into the air and on top of Desi's head. The hat she was wearing aiming to land on Peter's. Probably, /both/ hats will end up rather crooked. Also, to Ivan: "...you /should/ have a hat."

"I went /underwater/," Spencer agrees, finishing setting down his THINGS so that he can walk over and kind of HEADBUTT up into Jim's offered rumpling before returning to chalk. "I went underwater and /then/ I went in a /hospital/ and the police car had /flashing lights/ /and/ Shelby's gonna give me a /tattoo/." Right now, though, he is wrestling with opening his bucket of chalks. "Do you really catch knives? You shouldn't miss that. Who does bugs?" He crinkles up his nose at the moth, lifting a hand up to try and catch it on his palm.

"I /am/ a hoodlum. This isn't a /costume/ party." But Shelby's comeback is distracted because /chalk/. She pitches the butt, crushing it beneath a toe, and then makes a beeline for the art supplies instead of the food. This one's got her priorities straight. But a careful eye is kept on the clump of people huddled around the guacamole and everyone has three guesses as to what her grin might mean when Peter's theatrics with the hat and Desi is observed. In fact, as Shelby crouches to help Spencer with the bucket's lid, she is humming The Wedding March. "Hell yeah, it's like a rule. You ride in a cop car, you gotta get ink. First we oughta do a mural though. What do you think, Jerusalem stomping the city?"

"What do you mean, /does/ bugs?" This is more of an aside for Jim as he offered and Melinda is quite confused by the whole notion. There is no real time to think about this issue as Peter presents another display that stuns her into silence again. Well, almost silence. "Huh." A glance is spared for Shelby as she starts humming, then she looks up and away with a blush.

"Ink like you are a badass /gangsta/ now?" Desiree raises her eyebrows at Spencer. /Also/ impressed although: "Wo-o-oah." Perhaps a little /more/ impressed with the hat trick. She passes off the guacamole to the first available-looking pair of hands -- likely Ivan's! -- so that she can straighten her shiny new fez. "Sweet. You're getting kinda fancy with those. I bet we could find you a hat," she adds to Ivan. "I bet somewhere inside, this building is lousy with hats."

"I didn't /have/ a hat." Ivan's reply comes quickly, his face making it all too clear that he feels like this may be a /terrible/ thing that he should definitely be sorry for. Then, suddenly, he is holding guacamole! He looks down at it in surprise, then confusion. The latter is then directed at Desiree. Together with a nervous nod although he looks a little uncertain to what, exactly, he is agreeing.

The moth is caught! Spencer is now +1 little grey moth, fuzzy against his palm.

"Caught one," Peter tells Spence - hesitantly, and with a slight blush! - "didn't catch the other one. /Ivan/ does bugs. Ivan is the best with bugs." And then: "You could make a bug-hat, Ivan. Out of bugs. Maybe bees. Maybe not," and he looks around the associated party-goers, as if they all might find the idea of a bee-hat somehow VEXING. Then, to Spencer: "Ivan talks to bugs it is /so/ cool he is basically the bee-whisperer. Um, oh yeah," he responds to Desiree, wiggling his fingers sheepishly at her. "I can make /coccoons/ with these things. Also the -- sharktwins have them now." This last statement sounds a little dubious; like Peter isn't sure whether that is really /awesome/ or really /terrible/.

Jim /startles/ when Desi's hat his snapped off her head - it takes time to freaking acclimate to Peter's quick movements. Excuse him while he /smoothes out/ a few ruffled feathers. If he were a bird it'd be something big and angry. And flightless. Like an emu. "Bugs," he repeats. "Like. Bug-bugs. Hey, kid." Ivan is just KID in his lexicon. Most of them are, honestly. CHILDREN. "Y'wanna come uh. Tell me if this guys doin' alright? I got no fuckin' way to tell I'm. Raising 'em. Right." For some reason he's rolling back his sleeve when he says this. The arm beneath is tree-barky.

"/Can you make a bee-hat/?" Instantly Spencer /wants/ a bee-hat. "You can have my hat can I have a hat of /bees/?" He beams at Shelby when she opens the bucket, and nods eagerly, looking through and pulling out a -- blue. It is maybe the best approximation he can find of silver-metal robot-color. "I am what?" Desiree gets a confused look. "It's a tattoo of /Jerusalem/. -- what's he going to be stomping can he stomp on the park?" He points over -- vaguely off the roof in the direction of the park. But his drawing is put on hold because moth! He lifts the moth towards his face, which mostly makes him a little cross-eyed when it gets too close.

"Hey Mel, you getting married?" The blush was noted! Shelby shoots the woman another grin--that may or may not also be intended for Jim--while she gathers up double fistfuls of chalk. All the chalk. It is now hers. "Sure, one Jerusalem stomping on the park, coming up." Stand back, everyone. Art is about to happen. Still on her knees, the girl shuffles over and begins sketching in broad swaths of outline with dull grey--a large chunk of the roof is about to become unwalkable.

"I"m not getting married," Melinda snipes back at Shelby, shaking her head, her expression displeased. She is sort of hovering near Ivan as he has the bowl of guacamole and the bag of chips. She's hungry. "I know what bugs are, Jim. Is he an entomologist?" The sigh that issues forth from her lips indicates that she gives up asking. She looks up at Ivan as she is talking about him. "Sorry. He's kind of terrible at explanations. I... am sorry if I am rude."

"I-- there are no bees-- here." Ivan sputters at Spencer, in a tone that may have been meant to sound friendly and nice but comes out a lot more doubtful than anything else. A quick and eyebrowlowering look at Peter later - as if to make sure he is /still there/ - and he pulls hesitantly away from his roommate to make a beeline for Jim to. At least until he notices there is /crayon/ in the way, at which point he steps - guacamole and all - carefully OVER drawn lines, as if they stuck out several inches above the ground. Melinda's question and apology get nary but a shake of the boy's head before a few dozen tiny little spiders start cascading down the back of his head, out of his hair, to gather in a mess the back of his white shirt. That should be a clear enough answer for Jim.

Rasa wanders out onto the roof with a person in tow. Ze is dressed in jeans and an over long purple cardigan with a yellow tee underneath, arms completely covered, hands ending in black jeans. Covering hir head and most of hir face is a hijab in boring basic black. Shoes hide hir feet as well. Hir eyes are hazel today and hir skin a healthy normal color, but from time to time there are flashes of possibly moving tattoos on hir face. It's not very common to see though. "So, yeah. There are lots of people in this building that are all friends, but I guess we should start at the top to see if we can find people we know," This is of course said to Kris. Her attention does drift quickly to Peter and then to Ivan. "Oh. People." This sounds cheerful.

"Yeah I think - the bees are back at school," Peter admits, and he almost sounds - well - /regretful/. Like this was some failing on their part. Why didn't they bring the bees on the shuttle? Peter's not entirely sure. But then - there is a Rasa! And another person! And Peter is instantly /hopping/ forward (despite still wielding those crutches!) to land somewhere behind Ivan, nattering: "Ivan Ivan there is a /Rasa/ here." In case he missed it.

"Holyshit no /kidding/ that is -- /spiders/." Desi freezes, eyes wide, watching the cascade of spiders. "Wait, /you/ can make coccoons with them, that's pretty much one step closer to being a spider for real. Awesome. Does that mean he can control /you/?" She sets the bag of chips down on the plastic table, ambling over by Spencer and Shelby. "Can I help? I'm not great but I can draw, um. Trees."

Kris peers at Rasa with a careful expression as they crest the rooftop,"I think you found them. Like... a lot of them... Are you sure you don't have 'the finder power'?" She seems... impressed? Then she sort just stares,"That's.. a lot of bugs and stuff... Like... a lot of them." She points at Peter,"I think that boy recognizes you?"

Jim exposes his inner elbow to Ivan with a serious-business frown. He's telling Ivan, "I swear t'god this is crazy but I think I'm startin' to tell them apart. This guy hangs around the most, he's not like..." he's trying REALLY hard to figure out how to ask this. "--a homo or anything is he?" There we go. He nailed it. "Or getting fat or whatever the spider equivalent of wetting the bed or any shit?" He jerks his head at Ivan for Mel's benefit, "Can't explain it any clearer. Bug-freak. Weird-ass fuckin' kid." He says it like it's a personal virtue to have. "Heyhey, Rasa. Whos'at with you?"

"That's Peter and that's Ivan. They are students at our school." Rasa pauses and keeps looking around. "And that's my roommate Shelby, and that's Spencer with her - he's the twins' brother." Ze keeps examining people around the roof and finally points out Jim. "That's Jim. He's a good guy, even if he's not a student. Gave me my first cigar." There fore, A+ in Rasa's book. As more people start to notice hir, ze casts a few glances at the people ze doesn't know then unhooks something inside hir hijab and pulls it down to be a scarf around hir neck. "Jim, this is Kris. She's new at school."

"I think she's PMSing," Shelby asides to Spencer, referring to Melinda in her very best stage whisper. Whether the kid gets it or not, she doesn't wait to find out. Desi gets a look, a brief and sharp sort of study before she's deemed "okay". A piece of chalk is held up for the taking. It is green, powdered with grey from her hands. "Go for it. Need lots of trees for the stomping, huh, Spence? Yo, Rasa!" Salute! Then she's back on all fours again, crawling around as she roughs in a giant spider robot on the ground.

Kris approaches at this point to offer a hand to shake to each of the people in question. In that deep-ish, throaty voice of hers, she asks,"You are Rasa's friends, yes?" She scuffs a foot on the ground idly,"There are very many people here." As for the question of cigars, her eyes light up a little bit,"Cigars... Yes. My birth father, he was fond of cubans. I am told they are illegal here. And that young people cannot smoke here. It seems so odd."

"Nnnooo, Ivan can't--" Peter begins, in response to Desi's question, but he slings a look toward Ivan again, before adding - in a tiny whisper that might just be beyond Ivan's immediate audible reach: "...I don't /think/ he can, um, not /yet/ anyway." If Peter is worried about this prospect, he doesn't look it! But he does seem to want to keep the possibility from Ivan. He half-turns to Rasa, leaning heavily on one crutch while waving his hand to Kris. "Rasa! Hey! Hello new person!" Peter tacks on, refraining from using his 'inside voice'. But they are not inside, so...!

"What's a PMSing?" Spencer wants to know, starting to fill in Shelby's spiderbot outline. "/Shane/ smokes -- wait this is /their/ party!" And there are no twins here! His eyes immediately go wide and then he frowns at this fact. "HoldonIgottafindashark." And just like that the little boy vanishes! Poof. Well, there's not really any poof. Just no more Spencer. He has taken his blue chalk with him. Thankfully there are many more chalks.

A Rasa? Something other than mild panic finally manages to make it onto Ivan's face! He manages to make it over to Jim just in time to be alerted to hir presence, missing a chunk of Jim's verbalised concerns in order to quietly beam at Rasa from afar. Then-- 'weird-ass fucking kid'. His happy expression thins, just slightly and he turns back to Jim with what is left. The spiders on his back make their way upward again to disappear back into his shirt, as he states matter-of-factly. "Homo?" He frowns, like a doctor might do at a patient, trying to deliver bad news. "Yes. They are all-- 'homo'."

Melinda just shakes her head. "Why do I have to tell everyone, just because I do stuff with someone, it doesn't mean I want to marry them." She looks to Spencer to explain Shelby's quip, but then she has no one to talk to. "Hey, Shelby, I ... actually kind of need to talk to you at some point, okay?"

Kris slides her eyes to the side, then points over at Ivan, and wonders of Rasa,"So that is Ivan. That is your... boy? And he is tutoring you? And is that Peter from the bug club?" She points at Melinda,"And this is that woman's... enagement party?"

"Kris. Yo." Jim has a grip that's not deliberately hard, but he can somehow make even a handshake feel impossibly FRANK, meeting Kris's eyes like she has a full ID visible in them to scan. "I mean, kids can't /legally/ smoke til they're eighteen, but try telling /them/ that. Where you from?" He's trying to detect an accent. He glances at Ivan, actually looking kind of - without words. And actually /fascinated/, "What. /Really/?" He looks at the little snug bundle of tinylegs holed up in a crook of his treebark arm. And yes. He then /talks/ to it, "Uh, hey, buddy. Sorry about that. Uh. That's... er, y'know, also cool. -- wait, Mel, who you doin' what with?"

"It's like bitchfacing," is Desi's explanation to -- well, it /was/ a Spencer, now it's a nothing. She shrugs, starting to fill in trees, or at least the tops of trees, with her green chalk. "-- Are all the spiders /really/ gay?" She asks this louder, to Ivan, but quieter to Peter is a curious look: "Yet?"

"Total bitchfacing," Shelby agrees with Desi and lo, a camraderie is achieved between the two. She is content to work alongside and share the arting with Desi, therefore they /must/ be instant friends. But Mel's comment, phrased as it is, pulls her attention away. She looks up with eyebrows raised and then stands, brushing her hands off, to wander Melwards. "She's fucking you," she tells Jim as she passes him--then hums a few more bars of /that/ song. Here comes the bride...

"I don't own Ivan. I just like him. We hold hands." Rasa admits, frowning a little, hir skin sliding into a protective shade of silver. Ze moves closer to Jim and gives him a meaningful nod before examining the spiders in question, letting Kris wander on her own. "Hello Ivan. You have many babies with you today."

"...I /might/ be turning into a bug," Peter whisper-mumbles to Desiree, as if this was /important information/ that was not to leave the rooftop. But then, in response to Rasa's comment: "Wha -- I am /not/ a b--OH you mean his--yeah," Peter agrees, now flushing /furiously/, shifting his weight back atop of those crutches. "Yeah he's got a lot of spiderbabies."

Kris isn't sure she likes the level of eye-contact the man is making, but she's not about to be impolite and ignore him,"Cebu City. You know.... The Phillipines? Um... Yo?" Then Rasa is dishing on boys or some such, and she's clapping he hands,"Ah, yes... I pet you are very cute together! He is very handsome. Good choice." And then she is left to wander. So she wonders out loud in a general sort of way,"So... why so many spiders? Isn't it a bit cold for them?"

"Jim, please tell everyone I am not marrying you, okay?" Mel lets out a frustrated sigh and moves over to a slightly more quiet corner to talk to Shelby, dusting tortilla chip salt off her hands. "Look, hun, I... don't know how else to tell you this and I figure if I don't tell you, you're going to find out some other way, as we're both here and I don't want things to get awkward." She takes a deep breath. "I... I kissed Hive. I'm sorry."

Ivan's stare at Jim turns momentarily a little /stern/, though it does not particularly suit his face. "They are not really gay," He answers Desiree, though his next sentence omes out a little more uncertain again. "I was testing something." He peers over his shoulder, leaning forward on his toes, a little restlessly. "They are fine. You have a good arm, they like the warmth. Not hungry. Content." With that said, he turns to Rasa, his smile reappearing! Apparently the time for words is over, because he looks happy just to be /standing/ there next to hir.

Desiree's lips curl upwards at Peter's protest of Rasa's comment. But her eyes are curious at the whispering. "-- Like a for-real bug?" is maybe /just/ a hint too startled-loud to be a /proper/ whisper. "Kiss what who? This is awkward now, right? -- What were tou testing, Jim's homophobia? Because he's hanging out /here/ he's gotta /kind/ of be cool."

"Mel and I aren't getting married," Jim says this kind of absentmindedly, deadpan, while still trying to look at the inner side fo his elbow. This is HARD to do. "Testing what now? Wait - like INTO-into a bug?" He squints at Peter as though he were LYING.

"Yeah, uh," and Peter makes a little gesture with his hand to Desiree, palm flat and pointed to the ground, moving downward - as if to indicate 'keep down the volume' as he glances about. "I mean I /dunno/--" And then JIM'S talking about it and Peter's hands are both in the air, making 'whoa whoa whoa' gestures - quite tricky since that means he isn't holding on to the crutches anymore! He has to stop an instant later to catch them before they tumble, snagging them both and clenching them up against his sides. "Shhsshshshshsh /dude/, be cool, be /cool/, okay?"

Shelby shoves her hands into the pockets of her hoodie and squints up at Mel. Listening. Sure, her eyes narrow just that little bit more when the woman gets to what she wanted to share but for the moment, it seems to be received well. "...okaaay," she says slowly. A quick glance goes towards Desi, then slides back to Melinda.

"Sooo.../you're/ the complication," Shelby inquires.

Kris flicks her eyes around at this point at all the... active back and forth, and after a long moment, retreats towards Shelby,"Shelby, correct?" A pause,"You look slightly less confused than some of the others... Perhaps you could fill me in on the... dynamics here?"

Peter alarm! When the crutches threaten to fall, Ivan leaves Rasa's side at once to rush over to Peter, hopping over some chalk before arriving and leaning to grab the crutches and help Peter into holding them properly again. Maybe Peter IS a spiderbaby.

"OK but sharks. Octopuskid. That's not the /weirdest/ thing around here, right?" Look, Desiree is trying to be positive! And she's actually doing it in a whisper again. "I mean you got eaten by a bloodmonster spider is nothing." Her head tilts at Kris, a quick smile touching her lips. "There's a party. Some people are screwing each other. That's about it. You want guacamole?" She eyes Ivan like maybe he is the font of guacamole.

"Ivan pretty much always has his friends with him. Many, many of them. If you ever want to borrow one, he probably has a few to spare." Rasa looks back to Ivan and smiles. "Did you bring Lena today?" But then there is an emergency and Ivan ducks away and Rasa looks confused. Ze draws in a deep breath and wanders over to Ivan... but then hir ears catch something that causes hir eyes to widen. Shiiit. Ze races over to Kris's side and tries to pull hir away. "Come on, Kris, I'll explain things, but I don't think this is the best time to talk to Shelby."

"Complication?" Melinda's brow furrows up and she shakes her head slowly. "I don't know what you mean by a complication. Did Hive tell you there was one?" She scowls over to the doorway that leads to the stairs down and then back at Shelby. "I'm sorry, Shelby. I don't mean to be a complication or competition or anything. I just wanted to be honest with you." Kris is pulled away looking a little confused, but does have just enough time to wiggle her fingers at Desiree in a friendly manner, saying,"Oh, thanks, maybe that will be tasty. It was nice meeting you!" And that's about as far as she can get before she's pulled away. "Rasa, this is very confusing, but interesting. Like a soap opera. But better."

Peter is quite glad to have a little help with his crutches as they /were/ in fact in the process of escaping; once Ivan's gathered them up for Peter, he's seized hold of them with both his arms, quite firmly. "Thanks, Ivan." And then there is a flush, just a little, toward Desi. "Y-yeah, you're right, just um not a lot of experience with it. Actually I guess I /do/ have a little experience with, like, weirdness I think everybody here is - wow, actually," and now Peter is looking around the rooftop, as if just realizing. "Wow this is basically /bizarro/-ville isn't it? I mean..."

The guacamole has been abandoned! It's on the ground near the chalk, lonely in its bowl, while Ivan looks Peter over as if to make sure he is not going to spontaneously combust. Only then does he shoot a glance over to Rasa again, straightening just in time to look around and see that there is, apparently, drama. "... At least they have forgotten that I do not have a hat?" He tries, equal parts nervous and confused. Maybe a little bit of amusement mixed in.

Poor Kris is given the most dire of looks before Rasa rescues her from Shelbywrath. Then the ginger teen is able to turn back on the true source of her displeasure. The question isn't answered...yet. Because she has one of her own: "When'd you do this?"

"Kinda like a soap opera," is Desiree's agreement, "oh man is there /boy/ trouble?" She's getting the guacamole for this. And the chips. She offers both to Kris. "He's probably not worth the fighting, why don't you share?" is her advice to the others. About the... man she doesn't even know.

Kris points at Desiree and Peter as she is pulled away from Shelby,"They both seem nice. I seem to have commited some sort of feaux pas, though." She takes a chip and crunches it down happily,"Thank you!" Then she eyeballs the guacamole speculatively. "Very good." Maybe she could make off with it in the confusion?

"It happened Thursday." Melinda is mostly quiet, looking at Shelby like she expects the wrath, ready to take it.

Whatever soap opera'ing there seems to be going on, Ivan seems oblivious as to how to /respond/ to it, if at all. His stare occasionally changes target from one person to the next, until it lands on Peter, and then finally Rasa. Which is when he just... lifts both arms to reach out toward hir, as if unable to move and /lost/. Halp. Social.

"I am so sorry, Kris. It's just - well, stuff." Rasa shrugs. "I do not know the other woman, but I think Shelby would rather talk to her alone." Ze gives another shrug but tries to keep the newcomer a bit more away from Shelby. Ze instead looks at Desiree. "Hello, I am Rasa. I don't think I've met you yet." As ze speaks, ze moves closer to Ivan and reaches out for his hands, taking them. "Hi, Ivan." Ze greets him again, with a small friendly smile. "Are you okay?"

"Thursday...but you don't /mean/ to be competition. Great. Thanks for that, Mel. Least you waited a few days after I told you, huh? Real good friend. Enjoy the fucking liar. You two assholes deserve each other." Shelby does not disappoint. There is DRAMA! Not in the flailing of arms, but rather through tone of voice. And, as the finale, the throwing of the piece of chalk she'd held onto, sending it skittering across the floor. Then she turns and stalks for the door to the elevators. "I'm done with this fucking building."

Kris just watches wide-eyed, and asides to Desiree,"Someone should give her something to smash or break on the way out. That is how drama TRULY functions." Then she's snatching more chips and guac begins stuffing her face keeps her from saying stupid things. She shrugs helplessly at Rasa,"You did not do it. You were being a good friend just by bringing a near-stranger. I think your boyfriend is perhaps a little helpless without you sometimes." She actually giggles. "It is cute."

The roof door opens. This time it /is/ an arriving shark! Sebastian is in a yellow sleeveless top, embroidered with darker-yellow butterflies, and a flowy light blue skirt. No shoes. Just bare webbed feet. He also doesn't really look /entirely/ certain about what he is doing as he first peeks out the door and then slips through it. For the moment, just watching.

"Oh man Shelby is /ticked/," Peter tells Ivan, just in case - you know - Ivan failed to notice. "Oh man I think - I think Shelby is - waaaaaait, why is Shelby ticked? All I caught was that somebody kissed somebody." And then: "Ivan I am not good at keeping up with this sort of stuff. I think - I think we might need a chart." Reluctantly, as if he does not wish to do this, but he is only now realizing it's their only hope of keeping up with society. And /then/, Peter perks, eyebrows shooting up: "!! Shark!" POINT, WITH CRUTCH. Like he is a lifeguard at the beach and just saw a fin.

"Shelby, wait. Please?" Melinda deflates, hands rubbing against each other as she watches the girl huff off. "Look, I deserve that. I'm sorry, I really am. I thought you gave up on him after we spoke." Or, she wanted to believe it, anyway. "Yeah, it's shitty timing." Perhaps she is just talking to herself again. "I can leave if you want to stay."

"Hello, Rashka." Ivan mutters once Rasa is close enough to hear it, hir hands readily grabbed though he seems unsure what to actually /do/ with them afterwards. He turns his stare on Kris, then, his face reddening just slightly as his jaw clenches and brow furrows. 'Cute'? He looks /skeptical/ of this theory. "... I am okay. I think Shelby is no--" Peter's SHARKalarm goes off, and Ivan's grip on Rasa's hands tightening instantly. He freezes after his gaze drops to the floor and shoulders draw forward without thought, like an android that's had its battery drained.

When Peter points and alarms, Kris whirls, hand darting to her side in the manner of someone reaching for a pistol.. She almost instantly looks mortified and retreats to a convenient plant to hide. Guacamole and chips in tow. She points at Peter,"You have too much energy. TOO MUCH."

Who has the best timing? Bastian has the best timing! He's coming through the door just as Shelby reaches it. Melinda's words fall on deaf ears. Or...not so deaf, because the girl is shooting the woman the bird as she goes and advising her, "Share that with Hive, would ya?" Then oops! Not looking where she was going costs her a close encounter with a shark, who's bumped into. She reels back a step, blinks at him--then brushes on by to head for the elevators. "Where'd I leave my fucking board..."

"Wh --" That is Bastian's only initial contribution to this whole exchange. His eyes widen, watching Shelby bump-brush past him, watching Peter's pointing, Ivan's deflating. "Oh -- I -- sorry." His brows crease deeply, and he scoots back the way he came, disappearing hurriedly back into the stairwell.

Tiny words begin to flow over Rasa's skin despite the silver color of hir skin. The lettering is small and difficult to read unless looking very close. Ze squeezes Ivan's hands, looking at Shelby and then at Sebastian and then at Ivan, and then finally at Peter. "Peter, don't point." Hir tone is flat and frustrated. "Bastian, Please? Don't go. The party is for you..."

"Oh--wait! N--I meant that in a /good/ way!" Peter calls out to the retreating Sebastian, frowning /quite/ tensely now. "Uh--like--ohcrap I think I ruined it. Oh /man/ oh man you don't think - Ivan you don't think he's going back to the ocean oh /man/--" Peter /bristles/, now, before looking at Kris and /staring/ at his shoes. Peter you've ruined everything. Crutch-scuff.

"Bastian!" /Desi/ is at least happy to see the sharkboy, brightly excited when -- oh. She /frowns/. And Kris's guacamolesneaking can become that much easier because she is thrusting both chips and guac towards the other girl to ZOOM off after the sharktwin. "{Fucking soap opera,}" she is muttering in French as she disappears. Melinda wanders over to Jim and starts searching his pockets. "I need a cigarette."

Here, Melinda. Have some OVERKILL. Jim hands her the whole /pack/ of smokes from his pocket, giving her a strange, slightly tight-jawed look. And then, silently, he pushes off the wall and follows after Shelby. "'Bastian!" He relays the message after the /fleeing landshark/. But then he's gone. And so is Jim, making a loud HOURF sound on the way. Omg. Teenagers.

OMNOMNOM. That is the sound of chips and guacamole going away... forevers. Kris watches with some obvious trepidation, but Peter has the most pathetic look on his face, so she decides to throw him a bone and sidle over,"Some of us are... damaged... And you are of a very expansive personality. Perhaps maybe keep that in mind before shouting, yes?" Then she calls after Bastian,"IT WAS NICE MEETING YOU!" Ivan dares a glance back upward, only to see-- Sebastian is gone? Already? Yet there is no relief on his face, and what is there might easily be interpreted as disappointment. Then, a little clearer, guilt. "... I'm sorry." Rasa's hands are let go of, so he can smoosh them up over his face in frustration. Teeny tiny spiders descend from his hair and the hem of his shirt in a dramatic little display of DESPAIR. Or maybe just his control over them whittling away for a moment. /Escaaaaape/.

"You didn't do anything, Ivan. Please," There's an edge to Rasa's voice as ze reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder. "You were fine. Peter... was okay. Perhaps we should bake them a cake of fish or something." Ze sighs and looks over at Kris. "So... Yeah." Ze is speechless.

"Nnnn... Ivan!" And then Peter slings forward with his crutches! For the save. Leaning heavily on one crutch, the other - briefly! - left to perch on the edge of the nearest vertical surface. Which turns out to be... Kris. Peter more or less /thrusts/ his crutch over to her, like HERE TAKE IT. And then there is Peterhand on Ivanshoulder - the /other/ one. Meaning Ivan now has a hand on /both/ shoulders. "It is fine dude, I think uh we might have just freaked him out, like he just came back from the ocean and now there's all this /stuff/ but don't worry dude everything's /fine/ also yeah maybe," he tells Kris, in response to her comment, with just a little eye-shiftin'.

Kris smiles brightly at Rasa and holds up the chips,"Your friends are lively. I was worried things would be boring after leaving the forests and jungles. But it is not! I am sure it will all work out. Thank you for inviting me!" She suddenly finds herself holding a crutch. As for Peter's explanation, she looks... miffed, and merely asks,"Dude?" If she were in a comic, there would be little fume-lines over her head. "I am so very lost."

Aaa support. Ivan's hands slide down his face, but the look of guilt stays on his face. He offers Rasa and Peter a brief smile, before peering over at Kris, a little helplessly. "I think-- now, everyone is lost." The spiders on him slow their descent, though a number of them have already made it to the ground and have already started heading off in different directions. At least they might keep the raised beds company.

"Dude," Peter agrees, explaining to Kris: "It is - um. It means - a /dude/, I guess." Like this is the best Peter can do re: definitions. Before giving Ivan a rapid arm pat. "Man it's /fine/ could be worse. Nobody's dead, right? I think - we just freaked him out a little. But," he repeats, as if this is important to remember: "/Nobody's dead/."

'Pull it together' is now written boldly across Rasa's face, hir expression bland. "Shelby gets upset sometimes. I will check in with her later, but for now, you guys should be okay. Please." Ze studies Ivan's face and gnaws on hir lips. Ze looks over at Peter. "No one was actually attacked. This was normal people stuff. Please be okay."

Kris comes over to stand next to Ivan, Peter, and Rasa with her bounty of chips, guacamole, and crutches. She thrusts said crutch back at Peter, and says simply,"I am tired of holding these." Already. She frowns at the boy for... whatever reason, then tells Rasa,"Your friends, are they always this interesting to watch?" Omnomnom.

Ivan manages to catch the text on Rasa's face, eyes squinting as he reads it. And then-- he breathes in, expression clearing. Okay. Yes. Also pulling it together. Everything is fine. "I am okay." It comes out a little deadpan and automatic, but the spiders on him finding their way back into clothes suggest that he has, at least, partially managed to recompose himself. He attempts a smile - though slightly lopsided and brief - in gratitude, and straightens.

Peter gives Ivan another shoulder pat-pat-pat, before accepting the crutch from Kira with a snap of his arm. Shifting his weight atop of them. "If by interesting you mean /awesome/, then yes. We are always awesome," Peter announces. "...though I guess this was not our finest hour." He eyes the door everyone has scuttled through. "But there'll always be another hour!" Optimist.

"Maybe we should go down and find Sebastian," Rasa suggests as Ivan starts to straighten up. "Peter, you act like Ivan, Ivan, you be happy like Peter, okay? Maybe this'll help Bastian feel better." Ze looks at Kris, the words erasing from hir skin as ze does. "Generally, you don't really talk about people like that when you are in their company, but yes. They are very interesting people. Come on, we'll go see what other food their is downstairs." Ze picks up the guacamole bowl and starts leading the group in.

Kris looks a little pained as she realizes she has committed another feaux pas,"Ah. Apologies. It seems I have a lot to learn, then." Still, she moves to follow Rasa, punctuating Peter's observation, with,"There will be at least 24 this day."