ArchivedLogs:Plea

Plea
Dramatis Personae Jax, Tag, Tian-shin
In Absentia	2015-08-05 "It's just not the kind of neighborhood where anyone's exactly going to step forward and take my side."
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 smells spicy tonight, and with all the windows open the scent carries out into the courtyard. Garlic, ginger, and chili predominates, but the discerning nose can detect a a touch of cinnamon and white pepper. Tag's singing also carries, in his rich falsetto, "And meanwhile a man was falling from space, and every day I wore your face..." He is tending the wok in the kitchen, hair a swirl of a hundred bright shades of green. He's dressed unusually plain in a short blue denim skirt and heather purple cropped top. Both items look blatantly stolen from his sister, sitting loosely on his tiny frame. "...like an atmosphere around me, I'm happy you're beside me..." The walls depict a sun-drenched shallow sea, teeming with life. Spotted dolphins caper in the surf, while sharks and sea turtles cruise the middle depth. Schools of bright fish flash in the cool blue light, and rays glide amongst colorful sea anemones. The beanbag chairs look like massive brain corals, and the floor itself is patterned like white sand lit by ropes of water-filtered light. Jax is vividly bright, in contrast. Lime green and black and silver UFO capris, a ribbed purple tank top dusted with silver stars, makeup in oilslick rainbow-black shades. He's not singing, though. Just sitting out in the living room, one knee pulled to his chest and the other leg tucked underneath him where he sits on a bean bag, arm curled around his shin. His fingers press in slow squeeze at his calf, teeth worrying at his lip ring. He's been quiet for a really long time, eying his own computer. "S'weird," he finally says. "Back after the zombies they was callin' for the /death/ penalty when they tried t'say me an' Dusk started the plague. I didn't feel actually so worried then s'now, though." A small flush dusts his cheeks. "... I should prob'ly be. Not reading stuff like this, huh?" There's an article on his screen -- just a brief one -- a short human interest piece about Elliott and Deanna's military history. Needless to say, it does not cast mutants who would attack Upstanding American Heroes in a positive light. "Probably not the most *interesting* reading material, anyway." Tag peers over Jax's shoulder as he trots in from the kitchen with a pitcher, dark blue at the bottom and almost white toward the lid. "Fifteen minutes," he promises, refilling cups with iced tea before darting back to the kitchen where his stir-fry still sizzles. "What are we gonna do?" his song continues, "We've opened the door, now it's all coming through..." Tian-shin looks up from the tablet, nodding her thanks to Tag and taking a deep draught of the cold, fragrant oolong. Her dark brown eyes regard Jax steadily. "They're just people. They can be courageous, and loving, and selfless in their own ways." She takes her glasses off and digs the knuckles of her index and middle fingers into her left temple. "But they're also hateful and petty, and, most importantly for our purposes, they're lying. Just..." She sighs. "...I wish we could come up with any witnesses to back that up other than the boy. I've had a heck of a time trying to get hold of the surveillance videos. Drowning in red tape." "The problem is that all the witnesses --" Jax shrugs a shoulder uncomfortably. "It's just not the kind of neighborhood where anyone's exactly going to step forward and take my side." His hand scrubs through his bright hair; he attemps a smile when Tag refills his tea, but it's short-lived. "... it'd be easier." His voice is quieter, now. His eye flicks briefly over to the open windows -- across the courtyard, in the direction of his own house. Then back down to his painted toenails. "If I just plead." Tian-shin sets down her tablet, and lays her glasses neatly beside them on the end table. "I still think we should call witnesses. Some of them are not personally invested in those women's lives, and their grasp of the made-up story will not be as firm, especially with the passage of time." Her fingertips, nails painted pearly pink, neaten the edges of the stack of paper in her lap, and her toes curl in to dig at the ocean floor beneath them. "That is still an option." When she speaks, her voice is carefully neutral. "It's your call, and I'm with you either way to get the best outcome we can." It's hard to say whether Tag's song has ended or he has simply lost interest in it, but his singing trails off on the third refrain of "how big, how blue, how beautiful." He puts a lid on the wok and, washing his hands, returns to the living room. "Just waiting on the rice, now." Somewhere along the way, his hair has started turning blue from the roots down, spreading faster in some places to make streaks of teal. He sinks to his knees on the floor beside Jax and leans on the side of the beanbag. "You still talking 'bout the case?" His head turns far enough to make it obvious that he meant the question for Jax. "/Has/ been a while..." Jax doesn't sound particularly confident. His fingers pluck at a hem of his pants, eye still fixed downward. He murmurs a quiet thanks when Tag returns to report on the progress of dinner, toes curling down against the brain coral-beanbag. "Be less risky. An' less /media/. Less chaos. I -- I." There's a small pause, a hesitation where he stops to swallow. His voice is soft and carefully slow, after. "T'ain't the proper activist way t'go, I know, but I -- s'about to be upheaval enough in the kids' lives, it'd -- it'd be good, I think, t'. Keep things simpler." "Activists," Tian-shin points out quietly, clasping her hands together atop the stack of papers, "are people, too. Your needs and your family's needs are important. I would in no way advocate setting those aside for The Cause. In a very real way--" She spreads her hands. "--they /are/ the cause. That said...I still think we can win, if you decide to fight it." Tag cocks his head, the gesture birdlike, and rests one fine-boned hand on Jax's knee. Each nail is a different color, though all have the same transparent rainbow sheen. "Our little lives count for a whole lot. Though I dunno if it'd really be simpler? Just..." His thin shoulders shrug beneath the loose fabric of his shirt. ".../quicker./" Jax closes his eye, moving his hand to rest over Tag's. "Maybe. Maybe. I jus' -- if we /don't/ win --" His fingers squeeze down hard over Tag's. "... I jus' want to give Spence some stability. Best I can, anyhow. I aint' --" His voice has dropped to a mumble. "Been real good at that. Historically speakin'." "I understand." Tian-shin nods, then rubs her temple again. "I don't mean that I comprehend all the intricacies of your family's circumstances, but I do follow your reasoning." She closes the folder and slips it beneath her computer. "I mean, if I had a young child and spouse at home, I'd be loath to risk incarceration, too." "You're probably the best father I know. Maybe my standards aren't too high, but still." Tag rests his head on Jax's hand. His hair falls across his face like a blue-green curtain, but the tug of his wrinkling brows can be felt even if not seen. He draws breath as if to speak again, but hesitates. Then, finally, he says, "We'll know the truth." In the kitchen, the rice cooker emits a chipper electronic rendition of 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star' to indicate the end of the cooking cycle. Jax falls silent. His fingers squeeze tighter at Tag's hand, the temperature of his already feverishly-warm skin climbing higher. His eye opens again, fixing steadily somewhere out the window. His voice is back to conversational tone again once he finally breaks his silence -- bland and calm: "-- Micah's movin' back to Virginia." There's not much of a pause here, only a short breath before continuing, just as even: "An' with the twins startin' school -- jus' a whole lotta change. Be good to -- not add more chaos. If I can help it." Tian-shin freezes in the act of raising her cup to her lips, and puts it back down again. "Oh," she says, eyes still wide, "I--I see." She leans back and grips her elbows, not quite hugging herself and not quite crossing her arms. "That is...unfortunate timing." Expelling a long breath, she nods. "Okay. It's up to you, but we /can/ probably leverage that as a mitigating circumstance if it comes to sentencing, regardless of how you plead. I'd want to get a better read on the judge's personal prejudices first, though." She turns to her computer and types, a rapid burst of keystrokes, then looks back up at Jax. "Is there any way we can support you--even just with everyday things?" Tag's shoulders tighten, and he flinches ever so slightly, but when he raises his face to look Jax in the eye his expression does not register anywhere near the surprise his sister showed. He sits up a little higher on his heels and turns his hand over to grip Jax's, fiercely. The other hand makes a fist and circles his heart. "What she said," he adds. "It isn't much, but we're here." His arm wraps around the other man, pulling him close. "And, for what it's worth, dinner's ready." "I just -- the kids all been through so much an' this is the second time --" Jax's voice doesn't hitch so much as just stop, breaking off into a brief quiet. "I don't know what I need, yet. S'been too much to think about. Trying to sort out finances -- the /house/ an' Shane's college an' Spence's tuition an' there's loans an' B'll take care of herself, I know, but Evolve's been heavy in the red all summer an' Shane's not having no easy time'a it, neither, an'." His cheeks puff out sharply. "Practical thing to do with Spence'd be put him at Xavier's, now we're gonna have a program for kids an' I don't /gotta/ pay tuition there, but I -- no." His lips press together thin. "'pologies. I'll -- figure it out. Dinner's -- a good start." "It may not take much of a weight off, but you won't have to worry about getting a bill from me, at least." Tian-shin closes her computer and sets it on the table along with her folder. "The whole reason I do business contract work is so I can represent unjustly accused mutants pro bono--and I'll have a steady paying job soon enough." She rises, bringing her tea and leaving her glasses. "Dinner's a fine start." Tag is slow to get up, and when he does he offers his hand to Jax. "You'll figure it out." He sounds a good deal more confident about this. "But you won't have to do it alone."