ArchivedLogs:Stealing Dates

Stealing Dates
Gotta catch 'em all?
Dramatis Personae Jackson, Micah, Shane	31 May 2013 Shane dances with Micah.
Location <XS> Great Hall
The largest room at Xavier's, the Great Hall is designed to hold all of the mansion's residents and then some. Built for the mansion's bigger functions, it serves as the school's dining halls on ordinary days, and ballroom when needed. On school days, long trestle tables stretch across the hall, high-backed chairs with plush cushions offering seating for the students. Today the Great Hall has been transformed. Gone are its usual lengthy tables for serving meals. Instead, round tables ring two sides of the room; their white tablecloths are accented in ribbons of black and blue. Along one side the tables stand empty, just a place to rest and chat in between dancing; along the adjacent side, they are heavy-laden with snacks, as well as bowls of punch and iced tea and lemonade, water and chilled sodas. The DJ's booth stands in back, taking requests so long as they are not TOO risque. The dancefloor commanding most of the center of the room gleams in polished wood underfoot. Above, the large chandelier that normally hangs forgotten during the busy school days shines in its full glittering splendor; smaller fluted lamps hang dotted in satellite-orbit around the rest of the ceiling. Where many high school dances might have decorated with streamers, Xavier's has decorated with /light/, spiraling ribbons of it that drift down in muted-soft glow from the chandelier to wreath the moulding and glimmer more subtly down the walls. For those paying attention, the accenting ribbons of light are not /steady/ in their patterns; sometimes just a gentle spiral, sometimes a tracery of vinework with leaves and flowers, sometimes a web of delicate filigree that glitters against the walls. Jackson is probably enjoying himself, insofar as he /can/ chaperoning a high school dance. Which is, let's face it, kind of a /lot/; he can probably enjoy himself kind of a lot pretty much anywhere. He's nibbling on a cupcake from the snacks table -- lemon, with blackberry and lemon-thyme filling; he probably supplied the baked goods himself given that he's actually eating one -- and bouncing on his toes to the music though not actually /dancing/ at the moment. Just watching the ceiling. The streaming ribbons of light are twisting themselves slowly into a new configuration, a chain of long peacocky feathers, string together until they hit the walls and shimmer out into just wispy-lacy tendrils. "-- D'you like blackberry?" He's asking this of /his/ date. Holding up the cupcake in offering. He's dressed glimmery, too; black pants and pale dress shirt but his black vest /shimmers/ with iridescent rainbowy sparkle. Micah is leaning against the table, rather unexcitingly attired in black slacks and a collared shirt--which, at least, is a fetching enough shade of teal. He /might/ be distracted at the moment by the dangling twists of light. "You've 'bout come up with the prettiest cat-crazy-makin' things /ever/," he comments idly, a smile slipping across his features as he finally slides hazel eyes back over to Jax. "That take much concentration?" He honestly has no idea how these things /work/. Then the offering of /sweets/ manages to distract him again, quite effectively! "I like berries!" As well as stealing bites of cupcake, it would seem, because this happens in short order. Theft! One teenager is making his way out of the sea of teenagers. Shane is dressed neat in white suit with peaked lapels, a black dress shirt, no tie though his cufflinks are wrought into tiny silver bowtie shapes. He is just, it seems, finishing a dance -- with /who/ it is unsure, he has Daiki on an arm and is giving Desiree a peck on the cheek and then he detaches himself from them both to slip over towards the refreshments table. To meet another one of his dates! And pick up a CUPCAKE (chocolate strawberry shortcake, probably also courtesy of Jax) and give the lion's share of it to Taylor so that he can nibble on a smaller fragment that will not totally screw up his digestion. Thus armed with sugar he makes his way over to his DAD. Because that is what all cool kids do at school dances, right? "Those," he says with a glance towards the ceiling, "are fucking gorgeous." His eyes sweep over both the others in turn. "-- You guys, too. When was the last time you went to a high school dance?" he wants to know of Micah, lips curling up into a wider smile. "Oh -- oh gosh, yeah, I do this kinda thing in my house sometimes and oh /man/ Sprite goes /nuts/." Jax's smile is bright. He stays kind of focused on the twists of light as he takes another bite of cupcake, catching crumbs against his palm. "Yeah," he admits, "it totally does, /um/, sorry, I'll probably just be /zonked/ later tonight -- the things I do to /myself/ are easier to forget about but bigger things --" His nose wrinkles. He glances up and over when Shane nears, bobbing his head in a nod. "Hi! You enjoyin' /all/ your dates?" Micah giggles at the image of Sprite trying to attack /all of the decorations at once/. "So long as /zonked/ means you're actually gonna /sleep/, that is entirely acceptable," he dictates, nudging Jax's shoulder with his own for emphasis. Sort of...playful emphasis. Shane receives a wiggly-fingered sort of wave hello as he approaches. "Hiya, Shane! How did you ever get away from your whole passel of dates? Can't say I've seen one person ever have /quite/ that many dates before, an' it's not like I haven't been around enough folks as /would/ take more'n one." His grin goes lopsided with amusement. "An actual high school dance? That woulda been...when I was in high school. Ain't that when folks /usually/ do those?" "You're both here now, aren't you?" Shane points out brightly, and also: "I don't even know when you were in high school it might have been last year or /seventy/ years ago who knows. Anyway I brought about a dozen dates so they can mostly take care of each other? It's like having ferrets, you know, one needs /so/ much attention but lots of them will entertain each other." He nibbles slowly at his cupcake, gaze flicking between Jax and Micah. "Can I steal you?" he asks to Micah, and to Jax, "I want to take your date for a while, 'kay?" Jax's nose crinkles up at this nudging, but it doesn't dim his smile; really, there's a touch of the glimmer-glow of the walls in his own expression, brighter when he laughs. "Yeahok, no, I'll definitely be sleeping, it's -- focusing on that /and/ trying to watch the kids -- I'm going to be ready for sleep tonight." His eyebrows lift at Shane's question. There's decided amusement in his expression. "Uh -- are you going to return him in one /piece/?" But he's only waving a hand, and then offering the last bite of cupcake to Micah. "Only if he's willin' to be stole --though I guess that ain't quite like stealing." Micah tips the brim of an invisible hat to Shane by way of conceding the point. “Well, I ain’t never dated a teacher before. So, I guess it never had a reason to come up.” Shrug. “I’m holdin’ you to that, by the by, Jax. /Definitely/ sleepin’. You said.” Shane’s question earns a curiously quirked brow. “I need stealin’? I don’t s’pose I mind, dependin’ on the /whys/ behind it.” He points to Jax, then points to his nose, at the ‘in one piece’ comment. “Yeah, I’ll agree with that.” Also, he’ll agree with taking the last bite of cupcake! "Yes. You're being stolen!" Shane offers his arm to Micah. "Do you dance? Like /really/ dance? Like how pa dances? Because you two /totally/ need to get out there and -- what was it Kris said," he tries to remember, "Cut a rug." "But /I'm/ stealing you for dancing /first/." He also pops the small last bite of /his/ cupcake in his mouth. "I'm not going to eat you or anything sheesh." A hat appears on Micah's head in shot order, a very large black Stetson appearing to be tipped when Micah makes the gesture. Jackson leans back against a wall, watching Shane pluck his date away. "I'd have to step in if y'did," he says, light and amused. "I take my chaperoning real serious." Serious enough he's even remembering to watch the dance floor again! He settles back against the wall, the lights overhead shifting again. “Gah!” Micah exclaims at the sudden appearance of /thing on his head/. It only takes him a second to figure it out, though. “That’s /weird/, ‘cause it don’t feel like anythin’.” He finally stands up away from the table, tugging his shirt straight before taking the offered arm. “I dance. Wouldn’t call it what Jax does. It uh…takes a fair bit more concentration on my part. Gotta be careful about too much goin’ backwards or changin’ directions quickly, ‘cause it can overwhelm the microprocessor in my knee.” Taptap goes his free hand against the left knee, as if Shane wouldn’t have figured out what he was talking about without the visual aid. “Enjoy the starin’ at teenagers! Back in a few,” he announces to Jax as he moves away. “Thanks for the /seventy/ years bit, though. Clearly you must have a thing for the geriatric crowd.” His tone is obviously teasing. "Yeah, you're pretty sprightly for an old guy." Shane has a bounce to his step as he leads the way back to the dance floor. He glances down to the tapping of hand at knee, and adds, "-- I mean it's /amazing/ what technology can do for you. Fancy upgrades like that, keeping you dancing well into your golden years. -- Liza's here," he adds offhand to Micah. "She's my date." Along with everyone else. "She liked dancing." The current music might not be good for swing dancing but it's a swing dance hold he fits himself into anyway once they are on the dancefloor, relaxed and comfortable. "-- Did you like Georgia?" he changes subjects suddenly. Shane receives a snort in reply. “On my way out already, huh? I so very much did not put adequate plannin’ into retirement, it would seem.” Micah scans the crowd at the mention of Liza. “Shane, hon, I think it might be faster if y’just tell me who /isn’t/ your date tonight. I’m glad she’s been enjoyin’ herself, though. It can be…rough. When it’s still new.” He aims to follow along with Shane’s plan here, since the teen seems to have found a comfort zone. “Was a nice trip. Kinda like where I’m from. Prettier, though…more mountains there.” "You're not my date," Shane says. "Would you like to be? Pa can be, too." He falls into a basic swing dance step, though kind of more relaxed than usual swing dance /energy/ -- possibly out of respect for Micah's knee or possibly because he's not /actually/ very practiced at it. Who knows which. His head turns, finding Liza sitting now at a table at the side of the room nibbling on a cookie. "We danced /slow/," he adds. Another turn takes Liza out of his view again. "Yeah but. OK. Pretty. But I mean everything was fucked up, right? And you helped with the fucked up and then you went with pa to --" For a moment he just focuses on dancing. He's not looking at Micah, though; he's looking across the room at Jax. Micah’s lips quirk to one side in a funny little smirk. “Uh…not sure that’s entirely appropriate. You’re gonna need a chart to keep track, y’start addin’ anymore, anyhow.” He aims to mostly keep pace with Shane, not needing to dedicate too much conscious thought process. “Slow’s good t’start. For pretty much everythin’.” His head cants a bit to one side, as well, as the teen continues. “Well, the fucked up weren’t /there/ so much. Was here…and was the point of goin’ there. Y’can ask whatever it is you’re actually meanin’ to ask.” "Why not appropriate?" Shane sounds genuinely puzzled by this. "You're kinda cool enough. I could find you a spare corsage. I got Jim to grow them for me because oh my /god/ do you know how expensive it is trying to buy corsages for a dozen people? Really expensive." He turns his eyes away from Jax, looking up to Micah to study the older man's expression. "-- Is it serious?" “Role confusion,” Micah supplies simply, still smiling. “Flowers /are/ kinda ludicrously expensive. I’m good, though, really.” He turns his head to follow Shane’s gaze to Jax. “Ah.” He nods in understanding. “I would say yes. Your gramma insists that’s not possible over such a short period of time, however. So what do I know?” There is a hint of a chuckle laced through the rhetorical question. "You have a penis, I'm pretty sure my Ba would insist it's not possible /ever/. I just wanted to know what /you/ think." Shane's dancing is still slow. Probably he's missing a couple steps here and there /anyway/. He looks up, watching the shimmering lights glitter overhead. "You make him glow." That hint finds itself an outright /laugh/. "I get the feelin' y'might be right about that." Micah steps in to provide some guidance of Shane's weight shifts after he missteps a few times, not acknowledging this verbally, but subtly initiating movements through his own postural adjustments. Working with /other/ people's movement, at least, is second nature to him. "He does seem t'do that." And cue the blushing. It had to happen eventually. "Well, OK, yeah, he does that a lot." Shane's motion shifts almost unthinkingly with Micah's guidance, falling smoothly back into a more rhythmic pattern. "But with you it's the /good/ kind." His smile tips up, a little lopsided, when Micah blushes. "It's not a /bad/ thing you don't have to be --" His chin tips up to indicate Micah's blushing cheeks. "I just -- you make him /glow/. That's sort of awesome. Except apparently it's /serious/. So I just wanted to --" He hesitates, dancing stopping, too, for a moment. "-- just don't fuck it up." As per usual, talking about the blushing only serves to make it worse. “Urm…no. It’s not bein’…anythin’ but redhead cursed. I just…do that.” Micah frees up a hand to gesture vaguely toward his own face. “I’m glad y’think so, though.” He pauses a moment after Shane does, not pressing him to continue moving. “I can promise that ain’t my /aim/, at the very least.” This is offered with a small smile. "He's just been through a whole fucking lot and he doesn't --" Shane breaks off with a small frustrated huff of breath. His head thunks forward against Micah's chest. "Sorry," is rumbled low enough that it's practically a growl, "you've been /good/ to him I shouldn't -- fff." There's a beat of silence, and he still doesn't move. "... does he make you glow?" "I know, hon. Y'all been through more'n a lot. Y'got every right to be protective of one another." Micah wraps Shane in a hug when his head falls forward. "You--" whatever that statement might have been shaping up to be, it is lost completely in Shane's follow-up question. "I...don't...uh...do like that exactly...so much..." Shane not moving is depriving him of a view of some pretty first-class /crimson/ colour-changing, to a degree that nearly belies Micah's protestations of not being a glowy-person. "Metaphorically glow then," Shane grumblegrowls against Micah's chest, but then with a twitch of lips: "Maybe just your spine, even?" For a moment he relaxes, at the hug, his arms creeping back around to return it. "OK," he is kind of mumbling, now, muffled against fabric. "OK, I should get --" He starts to lift his head but then just thunks it back down. "Thank you. For the dance." For all of the earnestness getting thrown about, Micah is…snickering? “It’s just a robotic /leg/. I am not a Cylon.” He scruffs a hand lightly sort of at-over Shane’s hair, since /through/ isn’t happening. “Yeah, you better get back to your minions before dissension breaks out in the ranks.” There is one last squeeze to the hug before Micah pats a hand against Shane’s shoulder to send him on his way. “Thank /you/. Now go have fun!”