ArchivedLogs:Payment Plans

Payment Plans
Dramatis Personae Jax, Micah	21 May 2014 Ion is crazy. (Soon followed by undate.)
Location <XS> Chimera Room – FL2
The guest rooms at Xavier's are spacious and comfortable, well-furnished suites readied for visitors. A mid-sized guest suite, its sitting room is large but its bathroom and two accompanying bedrooms -- one a queen, one holding two full beds -- snug and cozy. Its windows look out over the front yard, providing a wide view of the forests and lake in the distance. In here the decor is subdued, tawny golds and ash-grey stone with hints of green thrown here and there to brighten it. Monstrous creatures prowl the room's artwork, amalgam in shape -- lion heads, dragon wings, scorpion tails; small glass figurines hunch on the bookshelf and hang painted on the walls. The end of college classes -- and a continuing lack of /work/ -- means that Jax has found himself with a whole lot of free time. With Evolve painted and all his Xavier's classes through before lunchtime he has little by way of /commitments/ now to occupy his afternoons. He has, therefore, been home Quite A While by the time evening comes; he's been ensconced in the suite for the better part of the day, focused very intently on his laptop, drawing tablet in his lap as he works. Slowly. It's a more painstaking process than it used to be, even still, checking and triple-checking his work as he goes. The image in progress on his screen is a pair of men, one heavily tattooed and bearing large black-feathered wings and feathery hair, the other only half flesh with metallic cyborg limbs. Clinging to each other; the pose might be sexual though the metal fingers of the man on top are digging rather bloodily deep /into/ the other man's stomach. No background, as yet. Just a heavily red-grey-black colour palette. It matches Jax's /clothes/, today, red skinny jeans and a black-and-red Harley Quinn styled t-shirt, his eyepatch silvery-grey with a red diamond in its center. He sits curled into one corner of the couch, teeth dragging against his lip and his eye squinted up; there's a cup that once did have coffee and is now mostly just empty, sitting on the table in front of him. It's late in the day by the time Micah returns from work, TARDIS-blue polo shirt and khakis still smelling strongly of glue and heated plastics. A lime green thread from /something/ he was working on clings unnoticed to the hem of his shirt, and his hair has its typical hasn't-been-straightened-since-the-morning muss. He opens the door quietly after a soft, habitual knock, then deposits his shoes and messenger bag in their usual places near it. His eyes linger on Jax without speaking through this process before finally moving across the room to wrap an arm around the other man, carefully, to avoid jostling his work. "Hey, hon. Y'got concentration face. I can not interrupt if that's better." Not without a kiss to the temple first, apparently. Jax's concentration-face dissolves into just a softly happy face at the kiss. He lifts a hand, curling his arm around Micah's waist for a gentle squeeze. "What I got," he says with a small wrinkle of his nose, "is crazy-headachey face an' my eyes is goin' wonky, /please/ interrupt." He sets his stylus down so he can half-turn, wrapping /both/ arms around Micah now and tipping his face upward for a proper kiss. "How's your day been?" "Hm...interruptin' good. Headache bad." Micah takes advantage of the invitation and Jax's turning to pull him into a tighter hug, returning the kiss long and slow. "Been lookin' too long at the screen, or s'just the general headachey-wonky? Y'been eatin' an' gettin' your shots on time?" Despite the series of questions, Micah is busy nuzzling into Jax's shoulder. "S'been good. Work...an' busy. Which is a good thing for work, at least. Gotta run back out t'the van for craftin' things after dinner again. How was yours, aside from the..." His fingers wiggle toward his head to indicate the symptoms his husband reported. Jax hums quiet and happy into the kiss, tipping his head in to nestle his cheek against Micah's hair at the following nuzzling. "Headache came first," he says after a moment of thought, "but sure gonna bet starin' at the screen for the past --" He glances at his computer screen and grimaces, "-- seven hours ain't helped much. Well. I /did/ take a break for food." His hand brushes down over Micah's shirt, plucking the stray green thread off of it and draping it with an absurd /carefulness/ into Micah's tousled hair instead. "Busy's good." He sounds /just/ a little guilty about that. "You want some tea or somethin'?" "Oh goodness. Yeah, seven hours of /anythin'/ means time for a break." Micah tugs Jax a little closer, as if to enforce the break time. He regards the screen for a few moments, a smile tugging at his lips. "S'this one for somethin', or just an idea that caught you?" A chuckle answers the careful draping, though Micah makes no motion toward removing the thread once it is placed. "Mmhmm, s'good. No guilty-voice. You're recoverin' /and/ still workin' at the same time. /Besides/ havin' just finished classes. So no guilty-voice allowed. Tea sounds nice, though. Prob'ly somethin' black at this point in the day..." Jax sets his tablet and stylus on the table beside his laptop, relaxing after to nuzzle into Micah's tugging. He bows his head, brushing a soft kiss to the other man's neck. "Oh, this'n's a -- commission I got kinda a /crazy/ backlog of requests. Usually take 'em in the order I get asked in but I'd be painting ten /years/ if I took alla them so m'kinda just cherry-picking the ones that seem most interestin'." He nuzzles in a moment longer against Micah's neck, then straightens. "Mmmh. You want t'grab your shower, I'll get you a tea. /Maybe/ cookies." Maybe. They have a tendency to disappear fast around here. A soft purr rumbles under Jax's kiss. "Sounds like you'll be keepin' busy just with /art/ things. That's excellent. S'what y'wanna be doin', right?" Micah chuckles, giving Jax one last tight-squeeze before letting him go. "Right, I prob'ly smell all chemical-y still. I'll go get less icky. Ooo...tea an' cookies 'fore dinner. Don't tell m'momma." He giggles again, moving to the dresser to pick out fresh clothes. "Is what I love," Jax agrees with a brightly happy smile. "Dai set me up an account on this site -- thing. Where people pay me just for /bein'/ an artist. How cool is that? I mean not even like I'm givin' 'em commissions just like. They like my work in /general/ so, money. The internet is kind of cool." He bounces to his feet, sneaking in a last peck to Micah's cheek and then running thumb and forefinger across his lips in a zipping gesture. "Your secret's safe with me." His gaze lingers on Micah for a long moment before he starts to scoot off towards the door. "Love you doin' what y'love. An' money sure don't /hurt/." Micah looks thoughtful for a moment at that comment, but shakes his head to brush whatever had entered his mind off for later. "It's patrons of the arts in the digital age. I like it." Another chuckle comes at the kiss and lip-zipping. "Thanks, darlin'. Be all squeaky-clean when you get back." He sets the fresh clothing on the bed before disappearing into the bathroom for showering purposes. "S'what it is. Called. Patreon. Internet patronage. I think I /dreamed/ about it." There's a faint blush to Jax's cheeks at that; he gives Micah a curious look for his thoughtful one, but then slips out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind himself. It takes some short while before he returns, a tray in hand. Two steaming mugs of a slightly citrusy Ceylon, a small plate with three chocolate-chocolate-chip cookies. He nudges his computer to one side so that he can set the tray down on the table. Micah is still-damp when Jax returns, auburn hair a little darker and clinging around his forehead in wet spikes. He's put on a pair of patchy bluejeans, feet still bare, and is in the process of tugging a maroon T-shirt over the lot as Jax returns. Taking a moment to get the shirt situated and tug on a pair of socks with assorted brightly-coloured tree frogs all over them, he just smiles over at Jax and his tray. "Mmn, thanks you're spoilin' me with tea right out of the shower." He moves over to take a seat at the table, a hand sliding along the small of Jax's back as he goes. He nibbles at a cookie first, giving the tea some time to cool. Jax watches rather /intently/ as Micah pulls on his t-shirt, shivering faintly at the touch to his back. /He/ slides his hand beneath the shirt, fingertips skimming over Micah's belly. "You're spoilin' /me/ with that view t'go with my tea." He settles back in on the couch beside Micah, draping a leg over his husband's lap. "/Is/ kinda nice t'get actually-paid again," he admits with an unfurling of fingers towards his computer. "Kinda been feelin' --" His nose crinkles up, head shaking slightly. "-- Shane says I need t'go bartend at Evolve once the /nightclub/ half is back open." A dusting of pink settles across Micah's cheeks at that comment, gaze turned down briefly. His hand pets along the leg in his lap as he chews at his cookie in silence for a brief time. "Maybe for a little bit if he can't find someone else... It sounds like y'got plenty t'do between teachin' an' your artwork, though. Even more if or when you go back t'the Clinic. Ain't got no cause t'add more jobs on you." His fingers leave off their petting to reach into his pocket and pull out an /outrageously/ gaudy watch: rainbow-faced, rimmed in gems of some sort, blue leather band that might well be alligator in origin. "Ion gave me this...watch. As a donation t'the cause of you bein' able t'do what y'do with all the superheroin'. It looks like it might be expensive. I tried not t'take it but he was ready t'just leave it in the back of the van if I didn't. Insisted he's got a bunch like it still." He gives the watch a bit of a dubious look, either not sure if /that/ was the truth or questioning the means in which multiple expensive watches might have been obtained. "I'm fully intendin' to be totally nepotistic about all this an' just shove a ton'a Prometheans at him for staffin'. They /all/ need jobs. But he might need someone in the interim while folks get proper /trained/. I wouldn't mind bein' there jus' a night a week or somethin' though. Fair sure s'gonna be a good place t'keep an ear t'the ground on what's going /on/ in the community." Jax nestles in against Micah's side, fingertips still skimming slowly against the other man's stomach. He straightens, though, eye widening faintly at the watch Micah extracts. "-- what." That is his first reaction, as he plucks the watch from Micah's hand. "Oh my gosh did /I/ make a watch in my sleep? Cuz this looks like the ridiculous kinda nonsense I'd come up with in my past life as a watchmaker. It /glitters/ ohmy --" His nose crinkles up, and he giggles. "-- I don't need no /donation/ though 'specially not a donation of. Of. I think this definitely qualifies as /bling/ ohmygosh." He manages to control the giggling with a small bonk of head up against Micah's shoulder. "Oh, definitely. I think the whole point of this place is t'give people with special abilities a place t'go. Sure that includes work. All the bartenders an' baristas an' busboys an' food preparation folks an' security. I'd say that's the /best/ of plans." The petting at Micah's stomach elicits a soft, pleased hum. "Okay, one day a week, maybe. For a few hours. If it's what y'/want/," he allows finally. "I don't think you dreamt that one up. Pretty sure the band's alligator." He hands the watch over for Jax to inspect. "S'got a brand name on it. I was gonna try t'look it up online an' see if I can get an approximation on the price. Could pawn it...prob'ly not /nearby/...just in case. But we could /sure/ use a little money t'make up for all the recovery time an' medical bills as came out of the latest bunch of stupid-dangerous stuff we got into." "I do /like/ bartendin'," Jax answers, though it's slow and thoughtful like he's /considering/ whether it's what he wants. "It was jus' that my last boss was a giant /skeazebag/ an' that was no fun. But!" He brightens, smiling broad as he presses his palm flat to Micah's stomach. "I already /know/ m'gonna love my bosses at Evolve." He wrinkles his nose at the mention of the wristband, turning it over to inspect -- first the band and then the name on the watch. "Just in case?" He sounds puzzled at this caution, and turns the watch back over to Micah so that he can lean forward and claim his laptop back off the table. He opens up a browser, typing in the name and clicking on the company website that comes up. It takes a good bit of clicking through the watches before he finds one that matches the one in his hand. "Oh gosh they got a /lotta/ bling on this -- uh." He frowns at the information that comes up. "Strap -- alligator. Yep. Uh. White gold case set with /diamonds/ is -- this ain't a knock-off or nothin' is it?" He's eying the watch a little skeptically now. "This website don't list no prices." "Y'make a good point there," Micah admits with a chuckle. "Just in case it's been reported stolen..." This is said softly and a little hesitantly. "I mean, I don't /know/ but I kinda suspect a little. A lotta stores got broken into durin' the whole plague thing, y'know? I'm sure they've put in insurance claims that've settled out already, but it don't mean that folks ain't still on the look-out for stuff as was reported." His eyes open wide at Jax's descriptions, putting his hand out to take the watch back for closer inspection. "Dunno, let me take a look at it. Huh. Is there a model number or design name y'can Google, maybe?" "Oh -- oh." Jax turns brilliant crimson, eye widening. "Right, cuz. Ion -- right. Oh. Gosh. You think he'd give us --" He cringes slightly, tipping a crooked smile up to Micah. "-- /Ion/. Of course he'd -- right." He copies the model name of the watch, turning back to Google. "Oh! Here, there's --" Another click brings up a new site which -- promptly has him paling. He blinks at his screen. Blinks at the watch. Quietly tilts his screen towards Micah to /show/ him the price listed. "... m'. Pretty sure it was stole does Ion even /have/ a job?" Micah eyes the watch closely, looking over the stitching in the band, the way the thing is generally put together. "Dunno. If it's a knock-off, s'a really good one. I don't know /jewellery/ so much, but I know craftsmanship, an' this's got it in spades." He shrugs, looking over at the screen and blinking repeatedly. "That's...no way. S'there another site that'll back that up? That's a stupid amount of money t'spend on a...wearable thing. That ain't like...a robot exoskeleton or somethin'." Jax returns to his searching, biting down on his lip as he turns up -- another site and another. One with a slightly higher price, one being eBay'd for slightly lower. But not /much/. "I -- I." Now he's looking at the watch like it's about to /bite/ Micah's hand. "Are -- did he /really/ mean to -- give this'n to you? This is -- we can't -- this –" Micah just /blinks/ at the ongoing series of sites. “Um. I don't know. I'll hafta call 'im an' /check/. If he had any idea how much that thing was worth. We'll...figure it out from there, maybe?” Jax sets his laptop back on the table, and lifts his hand to rub slowly against his eye. "-- why on earth would anyone /pay/ that much for a watch? Oh man." His nose wrinkles up. "He can't seriously --" His head drops to the side to rest against Micah's shoulder. "I don't think bakin' him /cookies/ to bring by the safehouse Friday nights is really gonna /cut/ it." Shaking his head, Micah just looks down at the watch. “I don't even know where t'/put/ this thing 'til I call 'im,” he admits, still wide-eyed. “He mighta said somethin' 'bout you savin' 'is life from the labs. Said even with this, wouldn't ever be enough thanks t'you an' your team. Don't know if he was /aware/ just how much thanks it was at the time, though. Definitely gotta call 'im.” "Oh -- oh /gosh/ he don't gotta -- we don't do that for -- he don't --" Jax's cheeks flush darker, and he pulls in a slow breath. "That's not -- a thing he needs to -- /pay/ for we don't --" He makes a small strangled noise, turning his face in against Micah's shoulder. "You could wear it," he says, muffled. "Add some /bling/ t'your outfits." "I told him, honey. Alla that. That y'all help people outta those situations 'cause they /deserve/ not t'be in 'em. Don't got nothin' t'do with no compensation. But he insisted. Like I said, he was fit t'just leave the thing in the back of m'van if I didn't take it from 'im." Lacking a better plan, Micah tucks the watch into his pocket again, until he can get up and stow it some place more appropriate. "Oh, gracious. I'd be afraid t'use m'/arm/, somethin' that expensive on it." "He might be insane," is Jax's next assessment of this situation. He nuzzles up against Micah's neck. "-- I know y'jus' got back in, don't suppose you'd be up for another trip into the city? M'kinda of a mind t'hunt him down an' take him t'dinner. An' /see/ if he really -- meant for --" He waves a hand towards Micah's pocket. "Well, that's kinda...independent of the watch thing y'might come up with that'n." Micah giggles a bit. "Sure. We should get Spence set up with...somethin'. If we're goin' out, though. Pretty sure if I can get hold of 'im, he won't /never/ say no to a meal." His hand pats at the pocket as if to assure himself that the ridiculous watch is still there. "Spence's been in the workshop with B, I don't think he's gonna object t'just lettin' them /stay/ there forever. B'll get him fed I don't doubt." Jax presses a light kiss to Micah's cheek and hops up to his feet. "You see if Ion's free, I'll check in on the kids." “Will do.” Micah pulls out his phone, digging through his contacts for Ion's number. “Just make sure they eat somethin' /good/ an' all. An' that they maybe eat /before/ finishin' whatever they're doin' out there so's they don't forget!” "Oh gosh. Yeah. We could come back /tomorrow/ an' find 'em still lost in there I'd bet." Jax's grin is more fond than anything else. He squeezes Micah's shoulder lightly, heading out of the room in search of Children.