ArchivedLogs:The Balcony Scene

The Balcony Scene
Dramatis Personae Micah, Jax, Shane, Horus	11 June 2014 What light through yonder window breaks? (No surprise: it's Jax! XD )
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. Though the day is grey, the intermittent rains have brought down the muggy humidity and even lowered the temperatures to comfortable mid-70s. Micah is just coming in for the night from work: observe the easily identified TARDIS van finding parking near the Commons! Moments later, the redhead hops down from the vehicle, dressed as expected in a polo shirt (the colour of which matches his van) and khakis. The door thuds closed and remote lock chirps pleasantly. His messenger bag thumps along at his hip as he moves and a bag of take-out with Chinese Food Aroma is clutched in one hand. "-- Ohmygosh." This greeting is called out from somewhere off to the side and up /above/ as Micah hops down out of his van. Jax is out on the balcony of their house, one story up and kind of half-dressed in paint-splattered jeans, no shirt, no shoes. He leans way out over the railing to /peer/ off towards Micah, arms braced against the rail. "Micah Micah Micah there's a /treehouse/ it's the greatest thing ever I changed m'mind about livin' in this house, 'kay? We're gonna move into it instead." It takes Micah a moment and a few backward steps while looking up to locate Jax. He waves when he does so. “Hey, hon. Um. I'm sure if there's a treehouse it's for communal usage? So prob'ly somebody'd fuss if y'tried t'claim it for livin' in. An' prob'ly y'can go play in it sometimes or whatever.” He chuckles, holding up the bag. “I brought dinner. Y'wanna eat inside or outside? Either way, prob'ly I should stop hollerin' up at you like we're doin' Shakespeare.” Jax giggles at this, still leaning out far over the balcony. "I don't know, it's kinda cute." An elegantly brocaded gown slowly shimmers into being to take the place of his bare torso and paint-splattered jeans. "-- An' all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay. An' follow thee, my lord, throughout the world." It sounds, admittedly, pretty inelegant in his thick Georgia drawl. "... only maybe," he adds thoughtfully afterwards, "without all that pesky suicide stuff at the end." Splish splash sploosh! Down beneath the balcony the ripple of the river is, briefly, broken up by some bigger splashing. A small blue face pops out of the water, followed by bare shoulders, bare chest. Shane's gills flutter and then close, breath drawn in raggedly as he forces his lungs back into motion. "Hive's already said he's living in the treehouse but he /might/ deign to let other people in once in a while. I think he maybe had more fun with that than the whole rest of the project. Uh." His head tips back further to peer upwards towards Jax. "... he's not gonna jump, is he?" he asks Micah. "Admittedly, I ain't goin' very /far/," Micah replies with a giggle to the line. "An' yeah, I'll agree on that. Stupid teenagers is stupid teenagers even with pretty poetry. You comin' down or not? If I'm s'posed t'keep hollerin' at you's one thing. S'another for me t'chuck your dinner up there." His giggling is interrupted by the unexpected RIVER MONSTER SPLASHING--oh, Shane. The too-quick turnaround to see what is going on in the river just ends in a wave. "Oh hi, hon. Swimmin'?" He twitches his lips over to one side. "S'far as I know he's not jumpin'. Whether he's comin' down at all's a dif'rent question. I'm sure Hive'd let us visit even if he /is/ livin' in a treehouse." "Speakin' of teenagers Shane please tell me you got some clothes on." Jax's face has screwed up in a grimace as Shane half-pops out of the water. "An' oh gosh if there's dinner I'm so comin' down hey what's wrong with jumpin'?" He is clambering /over/ the railing, now. "..." Shane's gills flutter briefly at the question of clothes, mouth opening and then closing again. "I could tell you I have clothes on," he finally says, "but I've never lied to you and I'm not about to start /now/. -- Oh man if you break a bone I'm going to mock you /before/ I call Joshua." “Pretty sure the river's still on public property,” Micah brings up as a consideration on the nudity issue. His eyes widen when Jax goes over the railing. “Oh my /gosh/, stop that right now. You fall an' break yourself just bein' ridiculous with all the dangerous stuff y'get into for /not/ ridiculous reasons an' I don't even /know/.” His not-food-holding hand waves him back over the rail. “I certainly won't feed you if y'get down here by fallin'.” Jax freezes when Micah says stop, hanging now on the outside of the railing, heels still planted on the balcony though really his balance is only held by one hand gripping the railing behind him. His brow furrows, breath exhaled in a huff. "Weren't plannin' on /fallin'/. Jus' /jumpin'/. That's like fallin', see, only you do it intentional." "Yeah but swimming with clothes on just feels. /Ghh/." Shane shudders, looking briefly down at the water. "Anyway it's public but most of the time nobody can see me? And my house is /right/ there. There's clothes inside it." He looks back up, frowning deeper once Jax is hanging on to the outside of the railing. "{Oh my fucking god} /you're/ not made of rubber." His eyes widen and he spreads his hands in front of himself as he looks to his /other/ dad, a little plaintive like, can't /you/ fix this? "The teenager's tellin' you this is a bad plan. Think on that a sec, then come down the /stairs/. Please." Micah just shakes his head. "Last thing we need is /Spence/ hearin' 'bout you jumpin' off balconies an' doin' it, too, besides." His free hand rakes through his hair, sending it into spikier disarray. "Y'might wanna at least keep clothes where you're gonna get out, honey. People seein' y'cross to an' from the house might complain. Don't wanna give cops no reason t'bother you." "Everyone's got so little faith," Jax laments, arm curling back over the railing to hook there more securely. "Spence jumped off the roof of the /old/ place once," he adds thoughtfully. "I nearabout had a /heart/ attack that buildin' was seven stories tall." For a brief moment he teeters on the balcony; there's a faint shiver of light around him before he steadies in place. Sort of in place, anyway; keen senses might catch the quiet slow shift of fabric against the railing, soft pad of bare feet against the floor, his scent shifting away from the balcony. "Spence had Flicker spotting him and they were /training/ that's not -- I mean he has to learn somehow right?" And clearly jumping off roofs is the most reasonable way. "I have plenty of faith, just also you're --" Shane pauses, eyes briefly narrowing and his nose twitching slightly. His brow furrows, eyes cutting back over to Micah. "... but people steal my clothes if I -- wait. I'm not at /school/. Maybe nobody would." “Ain't faith, it's just not /askin'/ for trouble when there ain't nothin' t'be gained by it.” Micah nods at the Spence story, feeling vindicated. “See? Don't invite /more/ trouble.” He frowns at Shane's news. “They're still stealin' your clothes at school? Weren't somethin' s'posed t'be done 'bout that an' y'were s'posed t'tell us if it kept happenin'? Also, yes, that seems less likely t'happen 'round fewer teenagers. Get a cheap robe that y'use just t'cross the street back'n forth in. Then it's not big loss if it gets blown away or moved or stolen.” From the balcony, now, there's just silence. And a very still Jax. A little bit of unsteady flickering of light. Shane's lips twitch, his hands splashing back down into the water at his sides. "Ba, did you actually /go/ to high school? It's full of teenagers. It's basically like sticking you in a /prison/ except one that's full of fucking sociopaths and not just people who were black in public. You want me to actually report every time someone's a douchebag in high school, I'd have no time to study." Micah sighs at that, brow furrowing and lips pressing thin. “That ain't just bein' a jerk. That's harassment an' bullyin' /and/ stealin'. S'actually /illegal/ an' not just annoyin'. Somethin' like /that/ needs t'be dealt with.” The expression turns slightly more amused. “Though you complainin' 'bout not havin' time t'study would be new.” There are very quiet footsteps coming out from around the house, now. Sneaking over towards Micah slow and quiet. Invisible (very warm) arms curl around Micah from behind in a tight squeeze as Jax-on-the-balcony topples off, letting go and -- falling only about a foot before he dissolves into a brilliant swarm of colourful dragonflies. "You make it sound so bad. Man. I shouldn't even /tell/ you what people do to B. We just have one more year though and then fuck high school for /ev/ --" Shane's words break off into a sudden fit of giggling at the Jaxplosion, his hand clamping over his mouth to stifle the sound. Micah has the distinct fortune to be turned around talking to Shane when most of this is going on. The arms around him earn a /tiny/ jump, though Jax's grip is particular enough to /him/ to be easily recognised. He leans back into it, just looking confused when Shane starts giggling. He turns in time to see the exploding dragonflies. "You're in a silly mood," he observes without accusation in his tone, leaning his head back to bonk softly against Jax's shoulder. "An' I make it sound bad 'cause it's /bad/. People act like the things kids do at school ain't nothin' when y'think what'd happen if adults were doin' 'em. Get charged with assault, even, things that're just s'posed t'be 'normal' high school." Invisible lips press to Micah's jaw in a tiny kiss before Jax fades back into view, rather pale but smiling as he nuzzles at the other man's neck. There's a small wobble to his posture before he leans slightly in to Micah. "Had enough'a bein' the dour seriousface I usually am," he answers, resting his chin on Micah's shoulder. "Oh gosh who's gettin' assaulted?" His brow furrows, eye turning to Shane with worry. "/Nobody's/ getting assaulted," Shane answers with a small teeth-bared grimace. "It's not bad oh god can we just forget I said anything?" His nose twitches, eyes darting to the bag in Micah's hand. "What food did you bring anyway look Pa's down now." Micah smiles contentedly at the little kiss, eyes falling closed. Though when they open and note Jax's pale-shakiness, he holds the bag up. "Food, hon. Y'look like y'need it. You'n your seriousface." He chews at his lip, regarding Shane quietly for a moment. "We can drop it /for now/, but I wanna know what all's goin' on. 'Specially if worse things are happenin' to B." His fingers crinkle at the bag. "I didn't know how many people we'd be feedin', so I got more'n enough for just me'n Jax'n Spence. Kung pao tofu an' eggplant in plum sauce an' steamed veggie dumplin's. Also edamame an' scallion pancakes an' rice. Where're we eatin'?" "/So/ seriousface. It's serious hard work stayin' invisible while movin'. /An'/ tryin' to hold an illusion I can't even see no more. I think jumpin' woulda been way less taxin'." Jax's grip relaxes, though he stays leaned up at Micah's back. "Could go in the gazebo t'ain't far. -- Does in the courtyard count as public? Or is nudity there -- huh." His teeth wiggle at a lip ring before he finally lets go. "... what's happenin' to B? What's goin' -- wait I'm supposed t'be droppin' it right." Shane splashes his way up out of the water, gills fluttering again and then lying flat as he splishes out onto shore. "I'll try to be good and not eat /all/ the tofu." The back of his hand wipes across his eyes, and his head shakes like a dog to dislodge extra water. "Can't be public in /there/, is it? I mean we own all that land." He clambers up to the road, conscientiously looking both ways before jogging across the street to hop over the small stone wall into their backyard. "Yeah we're dropping it. And having /dinner/." There's a flutter of wings from beyond the river, high overhead and heading back in to the development. The flight path changes abruptly, though, doubling back to swoop down. Horus's tablet is strapped around his neck, though he dutifully /parks/ himself -- perching with a click of talons atop Micah's van -- before picking up his stylus to write rather eagerly. The digital voice that speaks for him doesn't really /match/ the enthusiasm of his words. "Oh wow look you're all here is there a party? We need a party are we going to have a party things are built now. Can I see your house do you want to see my house it has all the perches did you know Ryan's home? Ryan's home hey is there food?" "Less taxin' /unless/ y'broke somethin'. Like your /neck/. Which I happen t'be pretty fond of." By way of illustration, Micah tilts his head back further to nip gently at the side of Jax's neck. "'Sides ain't nobody said y'had t'do all that. 'Least we got food t'put into you straightaway." He shakes his head at the question of nudity. "No, it ain't public in the courtyard. But /prob'ly/ that's one of those rules we'll wanna have people figure for the common spaces. When, where, an' how much nudity is okay without warnin'." A smile stretches across Micah's lips at Horus's appearance. "Hey, Horus! Good t'see you, hon. Ain't a party, just dinner. You're welcome t'join. I /didn't/ know Ryan was home but that's great news! He can get all moved in. An'...hm. Prob'ly there's /gonna/ be a big party once all the common spaces are completely finished an' most folks are moved in." Jax leans a little bit more heavily against Micah as Shane emerges from the water, his grip tightening once more though this time more for stability than out of affection. A pair of black shorts flickers into place to cover Shane up as he darts across the street, somewhat blurry and not moving quite exactly in /sync/ with Shane's movements though it serves well enough for modesty's sake. "Go in an' grab yourself at /least/ some boxers or a towel or somethin', honey, if we're gonna be eatin' outside? Cuz -- yeah, we should make sure the community's okay with nudity 'fore you're jus'. Hangin' out in the gazebo. There's gonna be the first community meetin' startin' next week though you can bring that up then if y'-- /hey/ Horus!" He brightens, straightening and finally releasing Micah to amble over towards the van and stretch a hand upward, fingers curling like he is beckoning Horus closer for petting. "We could have a party if y'want. Maybe not t'night. I knowed Ryan was back though he's tryin' to be kinda hushy about his goin's an' comin's so we ain' swamped with paparazzi here. /Ain't/ had a chance t'check out your new place yet though. You're welcome in ours any time." "Sure there's a party. /You're/ here now, aren't you? That's party enough." Shane grins over towards Horus. "OK okay my dads are being fascists and saying I need clothes, I'll meet you out front." He turns around to jog across the small backyard, disappearing soon after into his own house. "I am here right here are you saying I'm the party? I could be the party but I think Shane's a better party oh he's leaving are we leaving? I can leave. In the gazebo. That's a good pace pace place for a party. Hey I also don't have cloths." Horus watches Shane head off and then looks down at himself for a moment. "Am I bad is that bad? I don't like them they don't fit. Can I come to the meeting? I told Ryan I'd be his pizza wait what not pizza swype is bad. Paparrazi. And take pictures. And post them all over twitter." "Mmn, gazebo sounds nice. An' yes, your dads are fascists makin' y'wait until their hippie collective can decide where an' when nudity isn't considered impolite in the common areas," Micah teases Shane as he heads off to clothe himself. "Yeah, s'prob'ly an extra-good idea t'keep Ryan quiet what with Hive's magazines comin' t'take pictures all over." A snort of laughter escapes at Horus's question before Micah can stop it. "No. No, honey, you're not bad. Y'just got feathers for clothes. An', yes, y'can come t'the meetin'. Anyone who lives here can." He shepherds the group off toward the gazebo for /eating/. "You're dressed /gorgeous/, honey-honey," Jax assures Horus. "Finer style than I am, for sure. -- Speakin' of, if you shed any new feathers can y'hang onto them? Rachel wants t'redo the collage that was in Hive's room it got all burned up." He slips his arm through Micah's, willingly letting himself be shepherded off for food. "Oh wow me gorgeous. Nobody ever says that that's cool I think your eye's broken though I'll totally save Hive feathers he made me the BEST NEST I think it's called a bedroom on paper but there's no bed in it it's totally a nest he can have all the feathers --" Horus's chattering breaks off as he spreads his wings, a draft pushed down against the others as he takes off to flit over the rooftops and off towards food. “Honey, have y'/looked/ at your feathers lately? People'd pay bundles of money t'try an' get that effect in clothin' an' not come /close/.” Micah chuckles happily at the nest chatter. “We'll have t'come by an' see your nest. An' you should come see our place, too. Though it ain't /much/ just yet. We're still puttin' 'er t'gether.” He squeezes Jax's arm a little tighter, supporting him until they can get some /sugar/ in him.