ArchivedLogs:Pho

Pho
Dramatis Personae Melinda, Hive, Micah, Shane, Tola	7 September 2014 Dinner at Mel's.
Location <NYC> {Melinda} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
The entry way to Mel and Tove's apartment dumps directly into the living room, a small set of hooks on the wall beside the door for immediate removal of winter gear in the season. The floor in the entry way is a beige tile, optimal for collecting wet clothing items, instead of letting it spread out over the polished hardwood floors. There is a small nook with a window seat, on the same wall as the entryway, peeking out into the courtyard on the other side of the building's entrance. Two large windows line the right wall, casting light inside. There's a small dining table in the corner formed by the kitchen jutting into the living space from the wall opposite the entry; a small half wall providing lower counterspace and a barrier between the two rooms. There is a small hallway beside the kitchen, running along the side of the stairway to the second floor. At the base of the stairs, there's door to the small guest bathroom residing between the stairs and the interior wall. Hidden away in the back of the apartment is more storage space, a stacked washer and dryer, and exits, one to the basement utilities and one to the back yard. The second floor begins where the staircase ends, with a closet to the left, a bare wall, and a turn to the right. There are three doors, Tove's bedroom first, then Mel's master bedroom, which takes up most of the corner of the upstairs. The rest of the upstairs, over the living room and part of the downstairs bathroom, is a healthy sized bathroom with a large claw footed tub - one perfect for soaking one body or two. It's evening in the great island of Manhattan, the temperature starting to tick downward on the degree scale slowly but surely. Mel's invited a few people over to relax and enjoy Sunday, with food she's cooked up in her small kitchen. She is putting out small collapsable tables near the couches, giving people a place to put the bowls she's provided, before heading into the kitchen to bring out a large kettle of broth. There are some cubes of tofu floating in the bottom, but otherwise the soup is unadorned. Fresh chopped vegetables, some lightly blanched, surround the pot, giving people a choice of what they put in their pho. It's a bit steamy in the kitchen, so when she finally pulls herself out, she's pink in the face. Dressed in a lime green dress that is tight around her chest, but flares forgivingly around her hips and upper thighs. Her hair rests on one shoulder, braided and mostly out of her way. Hive is already ensconced here -- probably for the best, given how long it generally takes him to get Up And About these days. He's tucked into an armchair in the living room with Tola on his lap and a big brightly colored picture book full of dinosaurs in one hand that is not really being /read/ so much as batted at. "/That/ one's a pteranodon," he tells her with a small frown, "it's not really a dinosaur but I guess I'll forgive them." He's in bland brown -- his favorite hedgehog tee -- and a pair of jeans, feet bare as is his close-shorn head with its still-healing scar. Micah is dressed in his typical weekend attire: Rainbow Dash socks on his feet quit of shoes at the door upon entering, faded bluejeans with a starry patterned patch over the left knee, olive T-shirt depicting a Darwin-inspired sketch of finches with adaptive technology upgrades, untended-messy auburn hair. He has come bearing a batch of rosemary chocolate chip cookies that were, thankfully, baked by Jax and not some misguided attempt of his own. These wait in a tin in the kitchen for after dinner foods. Meanwhile he's been assisting in setting up tables and carrying dishes, gaze frequently drawn to Hive and Tola with a wide-fond smile as he observes their book reading. "You do realize that she is likely going to be the most precocious child as she gets older. As soon as she starts speaking, she's going to be spouting all the opinions and facts she learns from you." Melinda shakes her head as she pushes herself in Hive's direction, smiling after pressing a kiss to Tola's forehead. She straightens back up to look at Micah as he finishes the set up. "So. Food's ready. Anything we don't eat as soup, we'll stir fry later. Can I get anyone something to drink?" "As much as Dusk signs to her, that's not going to be long." Very /sternly/, Hive points at the pteranodon. 'Not dinosaur,' he signs. Just to be clear. "But I do kind of infodump into her head a lot." /Frown/. "/Did/. Kind of. Infodump." Back when he could. "I think soup's about all I can handle. You got tea? Something with mint?" “Ain't nothin' wrong with bein' a clever kid,” Micah opines on the topic of Tola's early education. Hive's reiteration on the dinosaur-not dinosaur classification gets a chuckle. “It'll be great t'hear what she has t'say. Y'can get kids usin' baby sign as young as six months.” He drags his eyes away from Tola at Mel's question. “I'm good with water. Or if tea's happenin', havin' a cup of whatever comes of it. S'anythin' else I can help out with?” Look at all these helpy people! Shane is not one. He's just getting back from work, still smelling very much like coffee and foods, dressed sharp in slacks and mandarin-collared button down and vest. He /does/ at least come bearing treats, a four-pack of fresh-ginger ginger ale, a tub of chocolate-brownie coconut milk ice cream. "Everything's wrong with being a clever kid," he opines as he makes his way inside. "Look at B, sharp as a fucking tack and always miserable." Cause, effect. Obviously. "Eh, It's just making tea, Micah. Just relax a bit. I'll set the kettle boiling." Mel pats Micah lightly on the shoulder as she heads for the kitchen once more, filling a kettle. It's easy enough to see out to the living room from where she is at, her brows rising when Shane comes in. She snorts and puts the kettle on the stove, reigniting the burner. "I have mint or ginger, Hive. I could probably do both, if you like the mix. There are other teas if someone is interested in that - and some already brewed peach tea in the fridge." She skirts out of the kitchen again to avoid the heat, offering to take the ice cream at least from Shane. "And there's fresh mint for the soup. Hey, hon. Work okay today?" "Just mint's okay. I got my ginger fix right here." Hive tips his head towards Shane, before flipping the page. "Ankylosaurus. There. That one's actually a dinosaur. Hard-ass fucking head just like your dad." He taps his fingers lightly against Tola's petally skull. "You're smart," he adds to Shane, "and happy. Seems possible." As soon as Mel has relieved Shane of his ice cream, Micah steals the teen for a tight hug. "Hi, hon. Oh, you brought goodies, too. We're gonna have a /feast/." One hand ruffles fruitlessly over Shane's spiky hair. "An' yeah, y'can do clever an' happy. Look at Spence." He finally moves to take a seat by Tola once Mel has dismissed him from assisting. "The peach tea sounds perfect, 'specially since it's already made," he calls back to the kitchen. "I'd worry less 'bout how smart she's gonna be an' more 'bout how much trouble she's gonna get in pickin' up all the /language/ 'round her. S'hopeless." This last comes with a smirk at Hive's colourful word choices. Shane leans into the hug, eyes closing as he buries his face against Micah's shirt. "Spence is too young to know better. Give it time." He heads over to hand a ginger ale to Hive, twisting off the cap before tucking it into the telepath's hand. "Trouble, pff. She'll be totally prepared. Be able to curse in like six different fucking languages. Work was -- long. There's cops cruising by all the time. I mean, Eric's team hangs /out/ but these are other assholes just waiting for someone coming or going to be too mutanty." His teeth flash bright to Micah. "Though /you/ apparently win the prize on that." Mel deposits the ice cream in the freezer for now, moving to the cupboard to get a couple glasses. She ducks in the fridge to pull out the tea, slices of peach mixed inside. She makes sure that the glasses she pours has at least two or three slices inside - a slotted spoon helping with the delivery - before she carries them out to the living room again. "Yeah. Well, that will be our cross to bear in the future - tiny cussing storms. Maybe people will just find them cute." She hands a glass to Micah and then takes a drink of her own, returning to the kitchen to finish prepping the mint tea for Hive. "Of course they will. Everything she does is cute. You'll be the most foul-mouthed little flower, won't you?" Hive's fingers curl slowly around the bottle when Shane hands it to him, his grip on it a little tenuous. He lowers his head towards its mouth moreso than trying to lift it to him; even with this concession there's ginger ale that drips down his chin when he takes a bite. "Win what prize? Huh?" "Ha, the multilingual cussin' might save you. Helps if folks can't tell what she's sayin'." Micah's grin broadens all the more at that thought. "Thanks, sugar," he adds with a nod of his head to Mel as she delivers the tea. He is mid-sip of peachy goodness when Shane makes his accusation, resulting first in a faint blush behind the glass, then a smirk once his mouth is clear. "Apparently I'm the first person t'get arrested on the new mutantin' in public law, s'what Shane's talkin' about." "Figures, right? Dusk and Horus and I had a race going to see who could be the first person at the Commons to get busted on that bullshit and then it's /this/ motherfucker." Shane sets the rest of the ginger ale on the counter, wandering into the kitchen as well to sniff hungrily at the soup. A low pleased growl rumbles out of him. "Shit. Every day should be pho day. Mel, you want to get arrested next? Wonder how many humans it'll take to make them realize what a dumbass move that was." "Ha. I think you might be a little biased. She is undeniably cute, but not everyone thinks everything she does is adorable." Melinda finishes loading up a tea ball, eyeing the not yet whistling kettle as she listens to the conversation in the living/dining room. "Ah? Really? Arrested? Sheesh. If Micah got picked up, then there's a good chance I will be too, whether I want to or not." Her lips purse as she turns and starts rummaging through a drawer, pulling out a paper wrapped straw. Shane gets a quick hug against her side before she points to the fridge. "There's some shrimp in there, if you like, and some salmon, if you want to add that to your pho." "Overachiever." This is Hive's response to the news of Micah's arrest. He is having a little bit of trouble wrestling with both Infant /and/ Ginger Ale (the ginger ale definitely seems to be giving him /more/ trouble), so he shifts slightly in his seat to foist Tola off on Micah. "Everyone who matters thinks she's adorable. -- How the fuck /did/ you get arrested I mean. You don't," he says this solemnly like he is imparting heavy news to Micah, "/have/ any mutant powers. -- What powers are you going to get arrested for using?" This time he's asking Mel, a crooked smile on his face. “Ooo, do I win an award?” Micah asks with clear amusement in tone and features. “M'hopin' it don't take /that/ much for 'em t'feel it. S'posed t'meet up with Lucien an' figure out how best t'play the whole 'oh noes they're arrestin' humans!' angle.” He shakes his head a bit at Mel's thought that she is likely to be arrested at all. “No, hon, I think I ended up in a pretty unique circumstance. Short of people with special abilities goin' 'round /framin'/ folks, I can't see a whole lotta this bein' repeated. Though I can conveniently leave that part out in any retellin' /not/ amongst friends.” His smirk at Hive's accusation melts into making faces at the baby as he picks her up and places her on his lap. “Was one of those unlikely situations. Some kids was vandalisin' a house with anti-mutant nonsense right in front of a pair of cops as were doin' precisely nothin' 'bout it. Jax an' I were givin' the kids a hard time an' another person stopped t'do pretty much the same. Kids went to spray-paint her jacket an' Jax put up a small shield t'stop it. 'Course, /that/ was when the cops decided t'come over an' arrest Jax.” He pauses for another sip of tea. “I /might've/ played up a bit that the cops couldn't know it was him an' been obnoxious enough for 'em t'wanna arrest me more'n Jax...or anybody else there, really.” "Troublemaker." Shane leans into Mel's hug with a small bonk of forehead against her side, and sneaks over afterwards to the fridge to retrieve Shrimp. Mmm. "/I'm/ the teenager aren't I supposed to be the troublesome one? My dads," he complains to Mel, "get into more trouble than the three of us /combined/." "Ha. Maybe it's part of their fatherly duty to magnet all the trouble away from you." Melinda heads back to the living room, peeling paper from the straw and offering it to Hive for his ginger beer. "Well, you had a point. There is hardly a good way to really see who is doing what with what powers unless there's an obvious angle of origin... or something. Even then, someone could have rainbows coming out of their ass and it still might be someone else." And then there's the whistle of the tea kettle and she heads back to the kitchen. Hive's brow furrows in uncomfortable distress for a moment when Melinda offers him the straw -- an initial attempt to thank her /mentally/ that he has to force himself to voice aloud, gruff: "Thanks." He rests the bottle on the armrest so that he can suck ginger ale through the straw. "Framing folks. There's a thought. Jax could do it easy. Rainbows out the ass and everything. If he -- were --" He trails off, here, teeth clamping down on his straw and his frown rumpling deeper. His free hand lifts to rub at his temple, a tired sag pulling his shoulders down. “You know me. Always stirrin' the pot.” There might be a little self-deprecating eye roll to go with that. “Don't help trouble does kinda come seekin'. All of us, honestly.” Micah's fingers busy themselves tickling along Tola's toes and belly to make her smile. He laughs outright, a quick little bark of amusement at the others' imagery. “Ohgosh, I guess it /would/ be real easy for folks t'do that. Go 'round makin' other people turn invisible or glow or...rainbows. Be a right mess t'sort out.” /His/ brow furrows in answer to Hive's. “You okay, hon? Anythin' y'need?” "He needs soup." So now Shane is going to be helpful! And prepare a bowl of pho for Hive (no shrimp) before he makes his own (soooo shrimpy.) "/I/ need soup. /Fortify/ me for going back to fucking. Campus. You gonna drive us?" He gives Micah big puppy eyes. "I'm supposed to check in before curfew." But first: soup.