ArchivedLogs:Primer

Primer
Dramatis Personae Jack, Jax, Tag	2015-09-29 "... B's offered to cosign. If can't neither of us get -- treated like a. Human."
Location <NYC> Lower East Side
Historically characterized by crime and immigrant families crammed into cramped tenement buildings, the Lower East Side is often identified with its working-class roots. Today, it plays host to many of New York's mutant poor, although even here they are still often forced into hiding. The small side street where Evolve lives is quiet, tonight; probably the weather isn't encouraging a lot of people out of doors. Grey and wet, it has been raining for a couple hours and shows no sign of stopping. Outside the doors of the cafe, Jax is -- kind of drenched to the bone, he looks like he has been out here Some Time already. His pale yellow t-shirt (bearing the picture-book character Little Miss Sunshine emblazoned across it in cheerful contrast to the dreary evening) is plastered slick against his skin, his jeans sodden through, his vividly dyed hair hung in a lank mop against his forehead. There's a bucket nearby, some scrubbing gear discarded inside it and its soapy water mostly diminished and collecting rainwater to balance it out, instead. One part of the wall looks a little cleaner than the rest, the product of some very recent fresh scrubbing. At the moment, though, Jax is standing in front of the door -- recently stripped of its paint, rain evidently be damned. There is a can of primer nearby, a very faintly glowing shield put up over the doorway like an awning to keep the rain from falling on it, and a bright warm radiant glow coming from Jax, focused intently at the moment on the recently re-primed cafe door. The sounds of heavy footsteps against wet sidewalk is joined by some slightly irritated mumbling as what appears to be a pair of wet jeans and a soaked hoodie breaks the quiet. Those floating clothes would be Jack, shoulders slumped and hands in his pocket as he makes his way towards Evolve. He goes quiet when he sees there's a glow ahead and someone in front of the door though, peeking up from under his hood curiously. He manages a small and unseen smile when he sees who it is though. "Hello," he greets, glancing up at the doorway and making a little confused noise. "Isn't this weather a little um...counter-productive to outdoor painting?" At a casual glance, Tag is virtually unrecognizeable today. His shoulder length hair has been returned to its natural black gathered back into a short ponytail. He wears a pale blue dress shirt that, soaked as it is now, shows the white undershirt beneath and his skinny shoulders hunched and shivering. His black slacks are just plain black, though they may have been gray when dry. The only splash of bright color on him is a skinny black tie with a spiral of complex interlacing rainbow geometric figures. His black Oxfords kick through puddles with petulant flicks, sending up little roostertails of water coated with improbable sheens of color that dissipate again when they splash back down. With his head hanging down, he does not notice the others until Jack until he is almost at the door, and even then only looks up when Jack speaks. "Oh! Hi!" Even his comparatively drab colors brighten a bit as he slides under the shield. "Heh, sometimes a rainstorm is the best time for painting outside. Though..." He smiles sheepishly. "The reasons I like doing it probably aren't relevant here." There's a faint thread of tension tightening Jax's muscles at the sound of approaching feet, but a moment later (though he has not appeared to look up) this has relaxed even before Jack voices a greeting. The glow in front of the door brightens, slightly. He only speaks after Jack has actually said hi, though; for a moment, there's a shiver of light around him, and then he exhales a short puff of laughter. "Hi, Jack -- oh, gosh, /is/ it?" He wipes a hand across his forehead, brushing sodden hair back from where it is blocking his gaze, and tips his head back to look up at the sky. "Would you look at that, s'rainin'! I hadn't noticed. -- Did you want t'get inside?" He gestures towards the door behind the halo of radiant glow. "The light won't hurt y'none, s'jus' kinda toasty. -- Hey, Tag. What d'you think for a new mural, hmm?" Jack blinks a few times as Tag gets his attention but perks up a little when it clicks with him who it is. "Oh, hi," he greets Tag too, lifting an empty sleeve to wave. Of course the rain makes his hand take on a ghostly outline. "I thought the rain would mess with the paint," he remarks. He looks as surprised as empty clothes can at Jax's comment about not noticing the rain but ends up smiling. "I'm not in any rush," he chimes, shrugging a bit. He's already soaked so he isn't bothered by the rain. "You're painting a mural on the door?" "Jax has some adaptations for painting in the rain." Tag is slowly rotating himself in the warm glow. "Thank you, toasty feels *so* great right about now." His hair, still sopping wet, Gray rain clouds migrate across his dress shirt and shed their own line art rain. "I'm thinking mythological tree of life meets phylogenetic tree of life, in bright abstract color blocks." He pulls the hair-tie from his ponytail and lets hair fall loose; each soaked tress of it starts turning a different color from the tip up, forming a staccato spectrum around his head. "But *which* mythology..." He scrubs at his chin, very recently clean-shaven. Jax lowers his hands to his side, pausing for a moment to turn towards Jack, his eyes just slightly wider. There's a few long beats where he is quiet, mouth slowly opening -- and then shutting again as he turns back towards the door. His teeth click on his lip ring, and his lips curl up into a small smile in time with a slow inward breath. He lifts a hand, palm up to gesture towards the shield still hovering over the doorway. "I'm makin' good an' sure the rain don't mess with the paint," he replies lightly. "An' s'only primer jus' now, should be dry soon enough though. I'm -- paintin' a /new/ mural on the door an' wall t'replace the one as jus' got scrubbed off. Seein' as Tag's here anyway --" Shrug. He bites down on his lip as he looks Tag over, spinning around in the radiant heat of his glow. "You lose a fight with Murky Dismal?" Jack nodding, Jack listens quietly as Tag speaks. He looks to the door as if trying to picture what Tag describes, humming lightly. His shoulders slump a little when Jax looks at him, Jack worried he might have said something wrong. He nods to the explanation though. "No fight...just some," he pauses to reconsider the first word that comes to mind, "jerk...saw there was no one under my hood so thought that meant I was fair game to shove me into a puddle in the street and run off with my umbrella," he explains, just a touch of annoyance in his voice at the situation. Tag stops rotating and considers the primed door, magenta eyes tracking invisible lines across its blank surface. "It sucks, the way people get it into their heads that freaks don't *really* count." Despite that sentiment, the rain storm on his shirt has subsided, the clouds turning to puffy banks of white cumulus and the water receding as the fabric dries. "The real estate agent I was talking to didn't think I was a real person either, but at least he didn't shove me down in the street." He glances sidewise at Jack, mouth pulling to one side. "You okay?" "I meant --" Jax begins, but breaks off with a small shake of his head, a briefly worried frown creasing his brows. "That --" A sympathetic murmur; his gaze flicks back towards the cafe's wall. "Yeah. Does -- kind of. Suck." He bites down at his lip, cheeks puffing out before he exhales a quick breath. "... B's offered to cosign. If can't neither of us get -- treated like a." His laugh is brief and light. "Human." He takes a step forward, touches a fingertip lightly to the door. "Y'all want to go dry off? Get some cocoa into you? Fair sure we can rummage up an umbrella t'send you back with." "I'm okay. Nothing but a couple scrapes," Jack replies with a sigh of his own. "And feeling like I forgot a key step before getting in the shower," he tries to joke. He frowns invisibly at the real estate talk. "Someone seriously...man...that sucks," he murmurs. He wants to offer some help but doesn't know what he can offer. Taking a deep breath, Jack nods. "Hot cocoa and drying off sounds great to me, sir." "I was thinking, maybe I should just register, but if B would...well, it'd sure be faster." A bright yellow sun peeks out from behind a cloud over Tag's heart. "Hey, clothed showers happen, man. No shame there." Vivid green grass sprouts across his shirt, followed by a myriad of flowers in every conceivable color. "I'm pretty near dried off already, but I sure could use some tea. And maybe a cupcake. And whatever's on special this week. I might have forgotten to eat earlier." Tag licks his lips, rubs his hands together briskly. "Then, mural!" He squeezes Jax's shoulder and flashes him a quick smile before ducking inside.