ArchivedLogs:Small Request

Small Request
Dramatis Personae Shane, Tag	Valentine's Day (Set shortly before Informing Isra she is getting glitzed up.)
Location <NYC> 303 {Lighthaus} - Village Lofts - East Village
This apartment is cheerful, in its way -- bright and airy, its floor plan open and a plethora of windows providing it with an abundance of light. The tiny entrance hall opens into a living room, small, though its sparse furniture and lack of clutter give it a more open feel. The decor is subdued and minimalist; black and white is the dominant theme, with occasional splashes of deep crimson to offset the monochrome, though of late myriad bright-coloured dragonflies swarm across the living room wall. The couch and armchair are upholstered in black corduroy, the low wide coffee table central is black wood and glass-topped, and a few large pillowy beanbags provide additional seating by the large windows that dominate the back wall. The living room and kitchen both hold a rather inordinate number of lamps in addition to the ceiling lights; standing lamps, small lamps on each counter, large sunlights in the corner. More often than not, they're largely all turned on, too. Towards the back, a couple of doors lead off into bedrooms and bathroom, and to the right, the kitchen's tile is separated from the living room's dark hardwood floors by black countertops. Above the bedroom to one side, there is higher space; a ladder climbs up to a lofted area looking down on the living room. Standing in front of the partition between living and cooking area is a large fish tank: one lone Betta, blood-red, swims regally among several species of black and silver fish. A hallway beyond the kitchen leads further into the apartment. Another bathroom stands just into the hall and the farthest door leads to the apartment's final bedroom, the door usually kept shut to hold in the acrid fumes of turpentine and paints from within. Lighthaus smells of coffee and cupcakes. Tag sits cross-legged on a beanbag, wearing an oversized black t-shirt and black gi pants. He /also/ smells of coffee and cupcakes, and is folding origami flowers on a lap desk probably meant for a notebook computer. The paper changes colors in his hands with each fold, and even the completed flowers do not stay the same color for long. Occasionally, he reaches for his his thermos, bright purple with abstract blue line designs, and takes a long drink from it before returning to his task. There's the sound of keys in the lock, considerably earlier than either Micah or Jax are due home from work. One small blue shark, very definitively playing hooky from school here in midday on a Friday, pops his head in the door, shucking shoes at the door as he slips inside. Shane, judging by his clothing -- very neatly pressed slacks, a pinstriped vest and dress shirt beneath the peacoat he removes to drape over the back of the couch. And a very dapper top hat with pinstriped band, pilfered from his sadly now forevermore-inert snowman-guide. "Taaaag. Bro. Need you." His vest has a white (sugary! And -- funerary, admittedly) flower in a buttonhole which he removes to present with a flourish to Tag. Tag sits upright, meerkat-like, and waves at Shane with a triangular fold of paper mid-shift from purple to orange. "Mmm, delicious death flower!" Brightening all over, he accepts the treat, which changes colors in his hand, each petal taking on a different hue. "Sorry I missed the service. Had to work. Man I kind of want to eat this but it's so pretty?" His fingers turn the flower almost meditatively. "Right, need me for what not? Ooh, nice hat!" "It was from my snowman. The hat, I mean. And the flowers are /for/ eating. They're made of sugar what the fuck else are we going to do with them." Shane flops down onto the side of Tag's beanbag, spiky head resting alongside the edge of Tag's thigh. He plucks the hat off his head, dropping it onto Tag's. "What're you doing today? Because I have someone you need to paint." "I know but its sooo?" Tag stops, shrugs, and pops the flower into this mouth. A rainbow-petaled flower, patterned after the one he just ate, blooms over the left breast of his t-shirt. He pets Shane's head kind of absently, his other hand continuing to fold the paper he had in progress. "I'm done working for the day. Had to take some time to make all my valentines." He nods at the heap of completed paper flowers off to the side. The hat slips down to sit jauntily on his mop of longish fuchsia hair. "I'm game to paint people. Who's it?" "My teacher. Dusk's valentine. One of Dusk's valentines. Who're yours." Shane's gills flutter slow and lazy-content at the petting; he nuzzles up into it, rubbing his head upwards against Tag's hand. "Isra, she's at game night sometimes. Astronomy teacher. Paint her up like a flower for him tonight." Tag holds up the folded paper, examining the edges to make sure they aligned correctly. It flows from orange to red to magenta in his outstretched hand. "I -- well, I don't have a /date/ or anything, but I was going to give flowers to a bunch of people. Hive, Dusk, Jim, Flicker, Hanna and Jayna and you guys n' your dads, at least." Calloused fingers scritch Shane's head. "I know Isra, she's pretty cool. She's like Spock, played by a gargoyle lady with an awesome wardrobe." He folds the paper again, turning it deftly under his hand and creasing it with the edge of a sparkly-pink thumb-nail. "I can do that, though you know I can only really do that properly with what I can /see/." "Right good so I'll bring her here. Uh maybe we can convince her to strip who knows." Shane's gills flutter faster, and he rolls over, tipping his head up to nuzzle briefly against Tag's neck. "You'll be around this afternoon, then?" He's hopping back to his feet quickly, darting over to the couch to reclaim his coat and tug it back on. "Cuz we'll see you then."