ArchivedLogs:Rose-Coloured Glasses

Rose-Coloured Glasses
Dramatis Personae Hive, Matt
In Absentia	2016-06-12 "/That's/ just goddamn unfair. I don't think I can build a house that'll hold that much cute."
Location <NYC> Tessier Residence - Backyard - Greenwich Village
Living in the heart of Manhattan means space is precious, and as such, the yard behind this house is small. It is as exquisitely well-kept as the rest of the place, though; all available space has been meticulously cultivated and transformed into a lush retreat from the concrete and asphalt of the city. The borders of the garden are lined in a wealth of flowers, the selection chosen to provide a panoply of color in all seasons save winter. A grassy rock-bordered pathway separates these from the raised-bed vegetable garden that dominates its center. The far left corner of the garden plays host to a tiny rock-lined pond, goldfish and a pair of turtles living in its burbling water. To one side of the pond is a garden table and set of chairs and presiding over the pond, a large oak tree with a hammock underneath, its branches spreading out over the tall brick wall that screens the entire area off from the city outside. After the blazing heat of the day, even a warm evening feels like a welcome reprieve. Matt opens the door and steps out into the yard with a tall glass of lemonade and ice tea. He is decked out in sharply tailored evening wear, though sans jacket for the moment, a stark white spread collar shirt, black low-cut vest, and black trousers with a satin stripe along the outseam. His cufflinks and shirt studs are small round cabachons of labradorite set in silver, and his black bow tie sits just a little crooked at his throat. A sleek young German Shepherd mix follows him outside, and prances around the yard with her tail held high and wagging. "It's not a lot of space to work with, but we can shift the table and chairs around if it helps." One corner of the backyard is currently overlaid with thin holographic lines, criss-crossed in a grid pattern that Hive is tracing notes onto at intervals with one finger. In contrast to the other man he looks fairly shabby -- faded old jeans fraying and worn at the hems, brown blue-painted hedgehog tee, heavy workboots. He glances up when the door opens, hand pausing in his work and his eyes faintly wider. He has no immediate answer for Matt -- instead he just drifts away from his work, towards the other man, dropping his hand to scritch idly at the dog's head before lifting it to straighten the bow tie. "This is certainly. A look." "{Thank you.}" << Luci's probably going to want to re-tie that, anyway... >> Matt beams a smile at his guest and stands still to let him adjust the tie before offering him the glass. "This 'look' is known as 'black tie.' Though I guess the labradorite is pushing the envelope a little. What do you think?" He holds out his arms. "Of this look, or of Flèche's new home?" "I'm not exactly an expert when it comes to fashion." Hive's smile is a little crooked. "{And Flèche's new home is a little bit conceptual at the moment.}" Hive gestures towards the holographic display in the corner of the yard. "{Unless you mean in a more general sense, in which case --}" His eyes skip away, up towards a window -- then back to Matt. "{I think it's clear enough you all manage /home/ just fine.}" "I wasn't looking for an expert opinion in terms of my outfit." Matt tugs at his vest, then his cuffs. "Just your opinion on it." He looks at the work in progress and shrugs. "{A great deal of what you do is work with concepts, no?}" Flèche has lost interest in the humans for the moment and is now sniffing very cautiously around the holographically projected gridlines, ears flattened back and tail wagging slowly. Matt does not follow Hive's glance, though he certainly noticed it. << Little by little, it /is/ home again. >> His thoughts are calm and still beneath a warm wash of affection and a kind of fierce determination. "{We're trying to do right by her. She seems happy, even if we don't feed her /quite/ as often as she might like.}" "In my opinion," Hive replies, "you look very --" He pauses, momentarily, gaze skimming over Matt again before he finishes mildly. "...tony." He hooks his thumbs into his pockets, weight rocking back on his heels. "{If you fed her as much as she /liked/ she'd probably be an unmovable lump. She's adjusting, though?}" And with a wryer smile: "{Lucien's adjusting?}" "Well, that /is/ why I'm in this particular costume, so I'll count it a win." Matt leaves off fidgeting with his clothing, and the compulsion to do so vanishes like smoke from his mind. "I don't want to embarrass Lucien in front of his theatre compatriots." << Though he's going to be pleased anyway-- >> He never elaborates, only picks his way across the garden to where Flèche has started /growling/ at the holographic lines. "{They're both adjusting. And how are you liking /your/ new home?}" A hollow feeling rises inside him, and he fights to keep his mind from articulating the thought that comes with it, << {Not done yet.} >> "{So I suppose that means Flèche stays at home. And /you'll/ have to try and refrain from too much jumping on people, too, huh? I guess it's a more --}" Hive waves a hand towards Matt's outfit. "{Dignified kind of crowd.}" He saunters closer to Matt and the dog, head tilting slightly to one side as he watches Fleche's growling. "{Hmm? Me? Oh. It still needs...}" He trails off, here, brows pulling in together. Lips compressing. "{Furniture. Takes a lot to make a -- /home/.}" Flèche's anxiety about the holographic lines fades when Matt approaches, though she doesn't completely cease growling just yet. "{It's ever so difficult to keep off of them when they pull such excellent faces about it, but I refrain for my brother's sake.}" He steps into the projected grid slowly and stretches a hand out to the dog. "See? Nothing to be afraid of." << {Though maybe I'm messing up Hive's notes, oops!} >> He offers the other man a shrug and an embarrassed smile. "{Doesn't /have/ to take much to make a home--just the stuff. Is there a new and improved ball pit in the works? One that takes up the whole living room, perhaps?}" "{Such great lengths you go to for him. True devotion.}" Hive is deadpan, arms crossing loosely over his chest as he watches Matt amid the glowing lines. "{Is the stuff really what makes the home?}" His tone sounds intensely skeptical. Something flutters up against the other man's mind -- very briefly, a vague suggestion of imagery without much shape, only a swirl of dark shadows and glittering prismatic light, both fading away soon after. "{You'd think after all the ones I've built I should know.}" "{No. We don't need the stuff.}" Matt's reply is immediate, unambiugous. << Don't even need a house, really. >> His hand intersects one of the projected lines. The dog slowly rises from her half-crouch and raises her muzzle to sniff at him, slowly inching closer, then finally to lick at his downturned palm. Matt smiles, but there's no mirth behind it, only the dull ache of grief and longing. "{Family makes it home.}" Hive's eyes close, his fingers curling in against the crooks of his arms. << {Family.} >> The word echoes through Matt's mind in that same shiver of light and shadow, slipping away as Hive's eyes open again, locking steadily on the grid in front of him. "{You should get your tie fixed. Properly.}" Matt kneels and scritches behind his dog's ears, looking up at Hive with an inscrutable expression, his thoughts wordless and a little helpless. He closes his eyes for a moment and opens them again. He straightens back up and rests his hand on Hive's arm, squeezing once, hard. << {Family.} >> Images flit through his mind, a series of freeze-frame shots of the twins, Dusk, Flicker, Isra. The image of Lucien in his mind is vivid and almost uncannily beautiful, but it, too, is there and gone in a flash. "I should...yes." He lets go and pulls away, slowly. Hive's eyes close again, weight shifting in against Matt's hand. His breath catches quick and quiet at the flutter of mental imagery, his mind pressing back up against -- through, into, deft mental fingers coiling around those images as if holding them tight -- the other man's mind. << (feel so beautiful) (to you) >> In the half-formed thought there's a quiet note of longing. His shoulders have tightened, weight shifting forward a half-step when Matt releases him. "{Right. Have a good -- right.}" Matt stops and turns back, pulling Hive into his arms. His mind's eye shifts through Desi, Gaetan, Sera, Spencer. The brightness of Jax and the darkness of Ian, and then Hive, in all his facets and all his vastness. And all his beauty, too. His hand grips tighter at the other man's back. The coils of Hive's mind twine more securely through Matt's, weaving themselves there reflexively as he leans into the embrace. Folds Matt gently in, just one more drop of thought and feeling added to the immense sweeping current that is his current selves. His breathing slows, forehead tipping in to rest against his friend's. His, << (thank you) >> surfaces not in words but in an unspoken quiet undercurrent of feeling -- a lot warm, a little shaky, welling up between them. << (sometimes) (we forget --) >> But outwardly, there is silence. For a time. Until, eventually, dryly: "Rose-coloured fucking glasses, you've got." Matt's laughter is short and bright. Flèche cocks her head, quizzical, her one upright ear standing up straighter and the other one flopping lower. "{Maybe...}" He sighs softly and nods. "But trust that I know how to take them off--and that I choose to see the beauty for a reason." He has to rise onto the balls of his feet to kiss Hive on the forehead. The gesture is small, but the love behind it blazes bright enough to obliterate the half-formed thoughts in his mind. << {You don't really need to take my word on that, though.} >> << {Maybe...} >> Hive's thought mirrors Matt's spoken one, soft and pensive. << {Maybe one day you can show us. A reason. } >> There, too, the longing remains. It dissolves into a quick laugh of his own, a lopsided smile. He leans heavier against Matt for a moment, but then straightens with a gesture toward Flèche's cocked head. "/That's/ just goddamn unfair. I don't think I can build a house that'll hold that much cute." "{I'll do my best.}" When Matt pulls away from Hive go this time it feels less reluctant--less like he's letting go at all. "She's awfully unfair, but I thought you might appreciate the challenge of containing and complementing her particular charms. And likely eventual enormity." He drifts back toward the kitchen door, the pup pracing along at his heels. "{I trust in your ingenuity as well as your resilience.}"