ArchivedLogs:Pirate Tea

Pirate Tea
Dramatis Personae Tag, Micah, Tian-shin
In Absentia	18 April 2015 "C'mon, we're devils and black sheep and really bad eggs, here."
Location <NYC> {Funhaus} - Harbor Commons - Lower East Side
The house might have started out looking capacious and respectable, but it has since moved through various incarnations, always colorful, but never colorful the same way for longer than a few days. There is little in the way of what most people would call furniture: a sectional couch buried in fluffy cushions, three bean bags of varying sizes, a scattering of bookshelves, what looks like a human-scale cat tree in one corner, and a low, square table surrounded by zafus. The floor plan is largely open, criss-crossed by rope bridges linking small elevated platforms to the landing of the second storey, beyond which lie the bedrooms. The kitchen is separated from the living room only by a long counter, lined with stools. Even the appliances are decked out in unexpected hues, edged with designs that change on a daily basis. A row of tins and jars runs the length of the breakfast counter, none of which match and all of which bear brightly colored text describing their contents: teas, coffees, mates, and various herbal blends. Funhaus has taken to the high seas! The platforms are easily turned into foretops, and sheets draped from the rope bridges serve as sails to a tall ship that stretches across the front wall. Open ocean stretches as far as eye can see in the walls, though an island looms up on one side with the bedrooms on top, a cave mouth below yawning to frame the kitchen. The sectional couch has been rearranged between two beanbags to create a skiff. Tag is curled on the beanbag that passes for the bow of the skiff, a sort of limp figurehead. A colorful one, though! His oversized t-shirt is a rainbow maelstrom, and he wears a three-tiered skirt black at the waist but with bright magenta creeping up from the hem. His hair is the same shade, but with black tips instead of roots. He has his phone cradled in one hand, but the screen has gone dark and his eyes are sliding shut, as well. A knock at the door announces the arrival of a Micah, mussed-haired and dressed in traditional weekend-wear of T-shirt (this particular one forest green and depicting a T-rex with an adaptive reaching aid in each hand, under the heading 'UNSTOPPABLE!') and faded-patchy jeans. Cradled in his arms is a white hanging basket with a Christmas cactus cascading impressively out of it. The flowers have a stark gradient from so pale a pink as to be nearly white at their centres to a brilliant magenta at the edges of the petals. Bustling about the kitchen, in a mauve Chinese blouse, its diagonal overlapping lapel fastened with bat-shaped black frog buttons, Tian-shin looks ever so domestic except for the sword strapped across her back. She tenses visibly at the knock and, abandoning her cleaning, pads across the living room--her feet bare below the cuffs of well-worn black gi pants--and checks the window surreptitiously before opening the door. "Hello." She looks past their guest, then back to him, fine black brows furrow for a moment. "Micah, right? Please do come in. My brother...might be asleep." Tag might have /been/ asleep, but he stirs now and blinks, bleary-eyed, at the rectangle of light silhouetting his sister and their visitor. "Tian-shin, you're not /swording/ my friends, are you?" Teasing though this may be, there's definitely a hint of actual admonishment in there somewhere. Still squinting, he props himself up gingerly into a sitting position. "Heya Micah. How's it?" He is somewhat uncharacteristically /not/ hurling himself across the room to deliver hugs. Initially, Micah has a bright grin to offer and a chipper, "Hi!" His expression falls a little at the brow-furrowing and uncertainty. "Micah, right. You gettin' ready t'go practice swordfightin'?" He shifts his hold on the cactus before slipping through the door. "S'there somewhere you'd like me t'put this? There's care instructions on the little plastic label bit they stuck in the pot." The mild confusion and concern continue to grow on his features. "Tag, hi. Are you sick, hon?" Though he moves closer to Tag's beanbag, he doesn't lean in for hugs as he usually might, either. That might have something to do with the armload of prickly, however. "Came t'drop off a housewarmin' present for your sister an' maybe do some visitin'. I can head out if folks need t'rest, though." Tian-shin only looks a bit chastened as she closes the door behind Micah. "No, I'm just...being slightly more ready to swordfight than usual." She gazes blankly at the cactus for a moment before breaking into a smile. "Oh! Right! I remember now." A faint blush blossoms on her cheeks. "Thank you." "Not sick but...recovering. I kinda got stabbed a little bit." Tag wobbles a little as if by way of demonstration. "I been resting plenty, though. Too much, I'm so tired of lying about in this beautiful weather." He rolls onto his knees and stretches out skinny arms, /demanding/ hug. Damn the cactus, four bells! "You should stay for some tea and snacks at least." Micah's brows dip further. "Ready to swordfight? As in you're expectin' an attack here? Have y'spoken t'Dusk about the security issue?" Locating a relatively clear corner of a table, he rests the cactus on it with its appendages spilling off the sides. "You're welcome, hon." The slight ruddiness to his own cheeks is clearly just a response to Tian-shin's. When Tag wobbles himself upright, Micah climbs into the beanbag with him so that less movement is needed, providing the hug...if /delicately/ for not knowing where the wounds are. "Someone /stabbed/ you? Are you okay? Have y'seen a doctor? Are the cops on it?" His teeth grab and worry at his lower lip, trying not to let /all/ the fretting out at once. "If y'wanna borrow a wheelchair an' there's no medical restriction t'you sittin' up, we could get you out in the gardens, at least." "Dusk already has Funhaus on a special alert list--if any stranger approaches, security gets pinged." Tian-shin walks around the cactus, admiring it. "Let's hope it's hardy enough to survive my ministrations. The cactus, I mean," she adds hastily. "But yes, I'm kind of on tenterhooks. Keep thinking whoever it is might come back to finish the job." Tag wraps his arms around Micah, resting most of his weight on the other man for a moment. "I'm okay. I've seen a Joshua, and I trust his judgement a lot more than any doctor's." He sits back on his heels and pulls his shirt up to reveal the reddish scar, shiny and new. He is not binding. "And cops...well, I mean. Can you imagine the kinds of questions I'd need to answer? How I mysteriously got better so fast, what made the crime scene white, and who I think might have a reason to want to put a knife in my gut." He lets the shirt fall back down. "Cuz the first person on that list is my little brother." "That's good, at least. I mean, security 'round here's already /pretty/ tight for a residential community." Micah manages a small smile at the cactus talk. "They're hardy plants. Just keep it in some sunshine, don't /completely/ forget t'water it, and don't water it so much that it overflows the drainage pan. It'll take care of the rest." He accepts both the hug and the leaning, a hand petting at Tag's back once it is clear that the injury isn't there. "Oh, honey. That's... Glad it's a scar now an' not still an open wound, but. That's horrible. Why would your brother suddenly want t'hurt or kill you?" His head shakes slowly as he takes in the information. "Is there anythin' I can do?" "I'll do my best, despite my track record with plants." Tian-shin's eyes stray to the bank of tea tins on the counter. "I'm making some tea, would either of you like any?" "I'll take Dong Ding oolong--the Vietnamese one." Tag plucks at a string coming loose from between two panels of his skirt. It starts to turn white between his fingertips. "It's not exactly sudden. Tian-yi and I never really got along. Maybe cuz I'm the queer mutant loser who ran out on the family, or maybe just cuz dad didn't like me." His skinny shoulders shrug once. "But anyway it wasn't him what actually stabbed me. It was some kid I'd never seen before. Who knows, might have nothing to do with Tian-yi at all." "I'd love some, actually. Thanks, sugar. Whatever you were plannin' on's fine for me. Can't say I've ever had a tea I didn't like here." Micah's arm slides around Tag's shoulders for another gentle squeeze at that litany. "Oh...hon. I'm sor-- That's terrible. But what would've made 'im get into a /hurtin'/ you mindset now? I guess...maybe it's an incorrect assumption that he wasn't b'fore." The fact that the person who performed that act was a stranger doesn't seem to ease his concerns any. "Did they say somethin'? I mean, that made y'think it wasn't a muggin' or somethin' like that? I mean...if you're okay talkin' 'bout this. I don't want t'stress y'too much thinkin' on it." Tian-shin opens a silver tin decorated with what looks like a quartz crystal cave and spoons its contents--tightly bunched green leaves--into the iridescent black teapot. "I can't say about his attacker in this case, but as for Tian-yi..." She chews on her lower lip. "He blames us for Dad's disappearance, and since then he's grown to hate mutants more and more." "I think Tian-yi wouldn't have minded kicking my ass before, but never to the extent of wanting me dead. Now?" Tag rests his head on Micah's shoulder. "I just don't know. Maybe Dad frakked up /his/ brain, too." The white has spread from the one loose thread out along the seam like a dry bleach stain. "But the person who did this?" His hand goes to his midsection. "They started out with kinda like a 'we don't want to see your /kind/ around these parts'. Maybe wanted to knock me around, scare me off. It escalated, obviously. Anyway, I whited them out, they'll be blind for like a week so...well, I /really/ hope it was just some random violent bigot and not--connected to Tian-yi or anything." He shakes his head, bright pink locks falling across his eyes. "I should probably get a sketch to Dusk." “That does...unfortunately, sound like it could've been a random thing, too. That sentiment is too common.” Micah's hand moves up to pet at Tag's hair as they talk. “The sketch might be a good idea. Just in case it /wasn't/ random. Or in case the person decides they need to retaliate. Best not t'take chances either way.” He hesitates a moment before asking, “What're y'plannin' t'do? If it is your brother? I mean...if you're not gettin' law enforcement involved, it ain't like y'can take out a restrainin' order or somethin' like that.” Tian-shin brings the tea pot over on a lacquer tray with three cups, each shaped like a bamboo segment, each a crisp cool green, and each painted with a different string of stylized fish. "I don't see how we'll find out if it was Tian-yi unless he comes knocking..." She sets the tray on a small, cubical end table and decants the tea. "If he does that, he will regret it sorely." She says this without any great vehemence. "It might be a kindness to let the police handle this, but Tag is right--we cannot expect much sympathy from the law when the victims are freaks, if we could even convince them a crime occurred." Tag only nods bleakly at his sister's assessment, but once the cups have been filled he brightens with an almost visible effort. "Telling Mom didn't do the trick, so I guess the next logical step is teasing him mercilessly and hiding his shoes. Anyway, I don't think Tian-yi is /actually/ stupid enough to come after us personally again. Hopefully he'll think better of sending his minions, too." He reaches over and picks up two cups, keeping the one with koi and passing the with sharks to Micah. "Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!" "I...get that. If y'do change your mind, though, I can get you Eric's number. He's with MID an'...used t'date Shane," Micah explains with a bit of an odd expression at the last part. "He's a total skeeve, but I can at least guarantee that he'll take the report seriously /and/ actually file it." He also reaches for the teacups, but Tag being closer beats him to it. Taking the offered cup, he can't help but grin at the sharks painted on it. "Thanks, sugar." The oddness of Eric's relationship with Shane completely eludes Tian-shin, who takes the last cup, bedecked with--what else--swordfish. "I'd take a skeevy cop over a bigoted or irresponsible one, but if it is Tian-yi...one reasonably uncrooked cop isn't going to be able to handle this, mutant or not." She raises her cup to Tag, unable to resist a smile. "Any pirate ship that serves this must be doing /something/ right, but let's not gan bei with the scalding hot tea, alright?" Tag wraps his hands around his teacup. The white blotch on his skirt fills up with a vibrant teal. "I'll keep it in mind, maybe it is worth a try." But at Tian-shin's warning he tsks faintly. "Mei-mei, you are not getting into the spirit of pirate tea. C'mon, we're devils and black sheep and really bad eggs, here." And so, with a smile bright and quick, he drinks his tea.