ArchivedLogs:The Happy Squirrel

The Happy Squirrel
Dramatis Personae Sean, Jackson, Micah	1 March 2014 Retrieving Matt's drawing. (Part of the Prometheus TP.)
Location <NYC> 605 {Sean} - One Sixty-Seven - Upper West Side
The floorplan leans towards an open one, meant to allow light to flood through the apartment when the curtains are set to open. A long comfortable 'L' shaped couch is set in front of a flat screen television though from the look of the couch it tends not to be used that much. A larger part of the space seems devoted to an art work space, with plastic tarp weighted down in a large square area. Canvases on easels, marble blocks, and occassionally a clay spinner is set in the middle to be his medium of choice. After the swanky lobby and fancy elevator lets them up to the sixth floor, the door to Sean's apartment has been left open a crack so the resident can avoid the hassle of things like opening doors and checking who is coming in. It's easy to see through the partly open door that the apartment seems to be cleaner and more sparkly since Micah had arrived last, though whether that is because the hectic stress of rapid fire arting is complete, or just the maid had come by this morning. The smells of coffee waft out the door, though the scent of fresh oil based paint is faintly there as well, which is easy to see why when the door opens further to show Sean sitting in front of an easel, an image of some park, only slightly snowy is in front of him. "I gotta tell you," Jackson sounds brightly cheerful as he bounces his way into the apartment, a tub of cookies tucked beneath one arm, "you are doin' the starvin'-artist thing /all/ kindsa wrong, honey-honey. -- I know someone else who lives here this place is pretty excellent. Only he's like this crazy-genius brain-doctor who they're talkin' 'bout giving a Nobel prize to this year so he's /supposed/ to be rich." Unsurprisingly, Jax is brightly colourful today, silvery jacket over top of a hoodie striped in peacocky purple-green-blue shades; beneath that his black 'believe in faeries' t-shirt is layered over a long-sleeved silver-and-purple shirt. Black jeans, laced corset-like up their outer seams in rather iridescent purple ribbon. Enormous mirror-lensed sunglasses that he has not removed even indoors, mismatched brightly-patterned armwarmers, hair redone into a tri-coloured tri-/hawk/, segmented purple and green and blue as well. "-- D'you like mocha? Because I brought the coffee-est chocolatey-est cookies." He holds up the container as he toes off his chunky purple-and-black platform sneakers by the door out of habit. At least they /were/ purple-and-black when he was wearing them; once off they revert to their /actual/ shades of grey and red and black. The weekend having found a warmer temperature to rest itself in than the past few days' declining chill, Micah has abandoned his layers-and-layers in favour of just an olive canvas jacket over his Batsignal hoodie and Doctor Hooves T-shirt, typical patchy jeans, and hiking boots. He wears his green-brown newsboy cap over a pair of fleecy earwraps out of deference to the ongoing bite of the wind, however. These last he removes and places in his pocket after reaching Sean's apartment. "Afternoon, Sean. Brought Jax along this time so's y'all could have an artist playdate," he announces with a playful grin. "You want the door open still, or was that just for us?" Amid loosening the laces of his hiking boots to leave them beside the doorway is gesture back at the slightly-ajar door that implies that he'll close it if that is preferred. "I never said I was starving," Sean says as he dabs another spot onto the canvas. Rising up from the spinny backless stool he'd been sitting on, it's easier to take in what he's wearing. It is a simple pair of black jeans, and a button up shirt in dark blue flannels, though only half of the buttons have been done up. True to the art in front of him, little specs of paint in green, white and grey fleck over his face, chest and shirt, though he seems happy enough. "I just sometimes forget to eat. Sometimes. But I mean, the time just sorta goes by, and I have Angela to take care of everything important. I probably would be living in a much smaller place otherwise, but well she makes sure the money is handled right, and that I can't accidentally spend it all on stacks of pretty things. Oh man, do you know how expensive saffron is?" He shakes his head, and gives Micah a smile as well. "Hello to both of you. And thank you for the cookies. They'll probably taste good dunking em into the coffee. The espresso machine is really bad at frothing the almond milk. I think I need another brand," though whether that is to the machine or the almond milk is left to be considered. "I'm sure when the trends change, it won't sell so well. Or when I get a card with a number on it galleries may want to drop me." Tilting his head looking to the door, he nods. "Oh yeah, you can close it. I didn't bundle up the picture in case you wanted to see it here instead of waiting till you're at home, but I had to cover it up. I didn't want anyone thinking I was moving onto a dark phase, or something." Gesturing to a pile of butcher paper with a large white sheet peeking out a little underneath, he nods. "That's good anyway s'pretty dangerous to admit goin' hungry around me, I got a habit of --" Jax holds up his container of cookies sheepishly before wandering over to set the cookies down on a table. "-- kinda just /forcing/ food on everyone all the time. Even moreso if they ain't been feedin' themselves proper." Hands freed now, he bounces closer to Sean, arms lifting in offering of a hug. "Oh/gosh/ have you done registered? I ain't -- done that." His nose wrinkles, head bowing for a moment. His teeth dig in against his lip, head turning towards the indicated covered-up painting with a small furrow of brow. "... s'it bad?" "Good, an' don't, or Jax'll never stop tryin' t'get more food into you," Micah observes through a giggle regarding Sean's 'starving' status. As he stands from quitting his shoes, he pushes the door to and moves closer to the others. "Most expensive spice by weight, yeah." He nods slightly at the off-hand comment about saffron. "I hope the registration thing doesn't give y'too much trouble. S'bad enough they're makin' folks do it t'begin with, but it shouldn't...be so /available/. S'one thing t'argue that the government needs t'know so...cops can know what t'expect goin' into an arrest or somethin'. S'another entirely for employers an' everyone else t'have access t'that kinda personal information." His teeth find his lower lip, pressing into it as Sean discusses the drawing of Matt. "Thank you, again, for doin' this. I know it prob'ly ain't been the most...pleasant of artistic experiences for you." He raises a hand to Jax's shoulder, petting it gently down the other man's arm. "Did you wanna look at it here? We don't have to. Could just leave it wrapped an' wait 'til we're home. Should prob'ly...call Lucien after, either way." At the offer of a hug, Sean appears to be thinking a moment before he relaxes and wraps his arms around Jax for a moment with a slight sigh and a smile before he steps back. "I don't mind there being food around. If it's just sitting around I remember to snag a bite when I get up to go to refill or empty. I kinda am used to ordering things that taste good warm or cold so I don't have to remember when it got here to eat it. Shaking his head at the question of registration, he frowns. "I've been putting it off. I mean they don't really need to know my business to begin with. But I probably will eventually to get the hassle out of the way. Like going to get a driver's license, but one that will make jerkface people hate me. They'll probably kick me out, but after all the death that went on, dunno how many people are waiting on high rent places to open up." He shakes his head, then looks over at the picture. "It's...not as bad as the other two right? But well, it's kinda sad in a different way. I mean it just feels bad? I can't really describe it, but its definitely more sad inducing than the others. The others were more piss off inducing ya know? Like it makes you angry to see that happening." Shrugging a moment, Sean heads over to the kitchen, and gets out a bottle of vodka from the freezer with the bright blue bottle and marshmallows on it indicating it's a flavored kind. "You may want a swig or two after you see it. I... kinda polished off a bottle between all the badness I've had to draw lately." He snags a cookie from the counter and makes his way over to the butcher paper as he looks between Micah and Jax. "Up to you. At least here is an environment you can treat clinically? Just another piece of art, instead of a place you might have been with the person. Context can really change how someone sees art." Shoving the cookie in his mouth to shut up, he puts a hand to the butcher paper waiting to get the command. Jackson returns the hug in a fierce squeeze, perhaps fiercer still for the unnaturally high flush of /warmth/ he carries with him. He rocks back on a heel afterwards, leaning slightly into Micah's touch. "Okay I mean I can totally relate sometimes I get kinda caught up in a paintin' an' straight-up forget to eat till then it's been hours an' I try to stand up and the world goes all spinny." The furrow in his brow deepens at the thought of registration. "It's kinda crazy overreach, yeah. -- D'you think this place'd really kick you out? I mean, our building did try recently. Seems kinda /stupid/ with so much'a folks dead or poorer I'd think places would want all the steady-payin' renters they could /get/ but -- I guess some people jus' can't see past --" His hand waves vaguely in the air, trailing a glittering cloud of light behind it before the shimmer fades away. He leans a little bit closer to Micah when Sean brings out the bottle of vodka. 'Sorry', he signs, head ducking again. "We kinda -- dumped a whole lotta terrible on you an' I'm -- I apologize for that. Just -- with so much terrible happenin' to folks we didn't really know any way to -- even know if they was still." He draws in a slow breath, standing up a little bit straighter and nodding. "I think lookin' at it here first's better. I don't really want to /barrage/ Hive with a storm of --" His fingers wiggle towards his head. He bites down on his lip, head turning towards the covered painting. "That's why I keep makin' y'take breaks an' bringin' y'things t'eat, even if y'don't really wanna be doin' either," Micah reminds Jax with just a hint of a smile. He steps in a little closer to the other man, not-quite-leaning with his shoulder against Jax's arm. "Yeah, they did...try t'kick all the known people with special abilities out of our buildin'. Lawyers made 'em not...but they still aren't renewin' any of our leases. So we're just kinda gettin' kicked out more /slowly/ now. Sorta lucked out that it was a lot of us all at once, in a way. We're workin' t'gether t'build a new place that'll be...safe. Regardless of ability status. Nobody t'be focin' anybody else out." Micah draws a deep breath, sighing it out slowly as Sean gives additional details on the more emotional contents of the drawing. "Okay." His expression is less than optimistic as the artist returns with alcohol. "We can look at it here. Prob'ly...should talk t'Luci about it at his place 'stead of ours, too. For Hive's sake. Okay." He reaches an arm up to wrap around Jax's shoulders before the drawing is revealed. It could be any hospital or medical lab, sterile and non-descript. There are two beds in the room, one rumpled and unmade, and the other rests an unfortunate figure atop still neatly made covers. His head is shaved down low, a dark fuzz not enough to cover slender scars that go down the sides of the skull. Pale blue scrub pants cover his legs, but no shirt covers his body, allowing all of the medical details to show through. His arms are bruised, tiny red puncture marks dotting up his arms like he was the doctors favorite pincushion. The figure's eyes are closed, but his jaw is clenched shut showing the strains on him. His hands are joined across his chest, with the forefinger and thumb pressed against a plain black ring worn on the middle finger of his other hand. The tension shown makes it unlikely the figure is asleep or unconscious at least. The room itself is sparse of content though, matching plain wooden chairs by matching wooden end tables, and not really much of anything by way of personal effects in the room. Sitting out of place amongst the sterile neatness is a battered paperback copy of Alice in Wonderland on one of the tables, stamped alongside the edges of its pages with BROOKS MEMORIAL LIBRARY. There is also a narrow slit up high near the ceiling, most likely a window of sorts. Unfortunately, it is too thin to make much out beyond it except slate-grey sky and the bare branches of sugar maples in the distance. "Folks down at the Sublime Center was real helpful in -- findin' us friendly lawyers to take the case. If it comes t'that for you. Can be hard sometimes finding anyone willing to take on this kinda thing." Jackson falls into quiet as the picture is revealed, muscles clenching up hard as he studies the drawing. His right hand curls loosely into a fist, thumb brushing slowly against the snarl of scarring where his pinky once was. Thin strands of smokey shadow writhe their way up along his arms in slowly coiling tendrils, and for a long time he is silent. The light in the entire room shivers, dimming in brief flickering unsteadiness and then gradually settling back down. "-- An' that library, y'think s'in Vermont?" He hasn't looked away from the image yet, exhaling slowly. "Head-scars are smaller'n people's used to be. Guess they're gettin' better at that." Micah, too, is quiet for a time, taking in the details of the drawing. "That book is helpful. Very likely a local library. That'll help. With location." His teeth press harder into his lip, arm curling tighter around Jax. "That's what Hive said. About the scars. After Luci an' I had that dream with Matt in it. That they been...doin' things enough since he had his. T'get...better at it." His features have grown paler with surveying the drawing, and he looks a little nauseous by the time he quiets again. Blinking as the lights flicker, Sean watches Jax with a frown as tendrils rile about the man."Yeah, I googled it. That library at least is in Vermont, and well, the trees," he says before taking a shot of the toasted marshmallow flavored vodka. Picking up the other two shot glasses, he carries them over to Micah and Jax, before he takes the butcher paper and covers it back over the drawing. "I'll wrap it up for you guys to take out. I don't really know if it will be helpful having it aside from the book and the window though." "It's a start. Thank you. Thank you -- a lot. An' it's helpful just /knowing/ for sure that he's alive. He, um --" Jax lifts his hand, still shadow-wrapped fingers brushing up against one of the hard spikes his hair has been cemented into. "Was supposed to be dead. S'far as anyone knew he died back in June. Cancer. S'been -- strange even lookin' for him on account of -- there wasn't a /lot/ of reason to expect him to. Actually still be --" He waves his hand towards the drawing. He takes one of the shot glasses from Sean. "His brother will want to know." His teeth dig down against his lip once more, and then he lifts the glass to down the vodka in a quick gulp. Beneath Micah's arm he is faintly trembly as he adds wryly: "... guess this means vacation time's about over for my team again." "Thank you," Micah echoes to Sean, though he holds a hand up with a small shake of his head at the offer of the vodka. "Thank you, no. I'm drivin'." He pulls Jax into an actual hug at the man's last observation. "I'm sorry, love. But...Matt'll be back. An' whoever else y'all can pull outta that situation. An' afterwards. Maybe this time we can make a fuss over the fact that it /happened/. Again. Now that the public knows." The words of sympathy come in the Vietnamese that has grown typical for it around their household. "We can call Luci from the van. See if there's a good time t'come by. An' if he wants us t'bring...that." "My condolences to his brother. But I hope you find him." Sean nods a little before going and getting another cookie to nibble on, the sugar helping to get past the oogie creepy mood, and drinking the shot of vodka that Micah turned down. "I'd ask if you wanted to see my other pieces, but it seems kinda a bad time for it. You guys can chill on the couch awhile if you want though, heading out after seeing something like that," he shakes his head though the shaking and vodka seems to trigger something with Micah's and Jax's words. "Wait, you mean this is like the videos that had been out? The government crap? Ah man...I don't know how they can ask people to put their lives on the line registering if crap is like that. I mean, what would they do when they find out what I can do? Give me Putin's tie and show what he's doing at any point in time?" "If we can pull /anyone/ out. With Hive sick I honestly don't know if we're even /up/ to --" Jackson bites down harder at his lip, turning his face in against Micah's shoulder. The shadow-tendrils around him thicken, deepening. For a moment his sweatshirt drops back to its usual rainbow stripes, colour vanishing from his lips and nails; it takes a few seconds after he's pulled away from Micah to restore things to their previous colouration. "Yeah, this is -- like that. Pretty sure someone from those labs faked his death an' disappeared him off to --" He shrugs a shoulder. "Maybe Vermont, I guess. I kinda --" His brow furrows, abruptly deep. "-- know a whole lotta people who came out of those. Ohgosh. They probably only even /noticed/ him in the first place on account of being friends with me and my -- people." He presses his knuckles to his lips, briefly, pulling in a sharper breath only once he's dropped his hand. "... don't suppose I could get a refill on --?" He lifts his empty shot glass hopefully. "I expect some folks would find what you can do /right/ useful, yeah." His face is a little paler than it was before. "Actually, I'd kinda love to see your other art. Maybe clear my head a little from -- besides I really want to see what you do when things is /normal/." "Thank you." Micah blushes faintly. "Again. Apologies, I don't mean t'keep repeatin' m'self. But, you're right. Don't trust the government, once they know what y'can do. They do...take advantage, t'say the least. An' be sure there's somebody who you're s'posed t'talk to /every day/ who'll start makin' a fuss the second y'don't. It sounds...crazy an' paranoid, but that's the world we're livin' in." He holds Jax tighter. "We'll find a way. We may need t'ask for more help. From folks y'know at work or. Somethin'. An' y'got no reason t'think they took Matt 'cause of knowin' us. He was in an' outta all kindsa hospitals on account of we didn't /have/ the Clinic yet an'...maybe someone there figured 'im out." Even when he releases Jax from the hug, he keeps a hand lingering on the small of the other man's back, just for the contact. "Yes. I think seein' your things that are less...this. Might be nice. If y'don't mind?" Taking the glass from Jax with a nod, Sean grabs the bottle from the kitchen and refills it, but brings the bottle along with him so it can be more readily available. "I'll make sure I keep in touch and stuff so it doesn't end up with me disappearing. Not that it would help much if I did get disappeared." Shaking his head, he puts on a smile so he can pretend things are normal and happier. "Sure I can show you the normal stuff. Its mostly landscapes, and cityscapes. And well, People. I like people." Heading over to a closet, he pulls out a large portfolio folder, and kicks some jackets back in as they try and make their way out. "Oh man, whats the thing they always say in the movies? You can see my etchings?" he snickers a little at that as he lugs the portfolio over near the L shaped couch, pushing an ottoman over with his feet and sets it down to be viewable. "It's mostly just reprints or pictures of the originals. It would be kinda silly keeping all that stuff around. And well, people like buying originals. I think it makes them feel all swanky." Flopping back onto the short side so Micah and Jax can sit on the other bit, he unzips it to get it open. "But he'd help out. With folks after we got them -- if they was /watchin'/ an' that's how they --" Jax bites down on his lip, hard; there are tiny flecks of blood darkening the inside of it when he finally lets go to take the vodka with a thankful nod. "It ain't much reassurance but gettin' folks out of these places is kinda what I -- we -- my folks. Do. You stay in touch, cuz if anything happens to you I'll --" He blushes, knocking back the vodka and wincing faintly as he swallows it. "I swear I'm tougher than the glitter lets on." He moves aside to fold himself down onto the corner of the couch near Sean, one leg tucked up beneath himself. His head is turned towards the drawing of Matt, still, but he shakes it quickly and looks away as he settles into the seat. "I love people. An' the city. S'one'a my favourite things t'paint -- though, admittedly it don't usually look much like itself by the time I'm done. Yours are probably -- prettier. More, uh, city-like." "Honey, there /is/ a chance, but no way of knowin'. An' I'm sure Matt was helpin' with full understandin' of the risks an' he wanted t'help /anyhow/. Don't dare...just don't dare blame yourself with all you do t'help. When it's the government /takin'/ people as is /full/ t'blame." Micah's words are quieter though not softer, spoken nearer to Jax as he pulls him in for one last hug before the group retires to the couches. "An' he is. Best person t'have in your corner if y'need help with things like this," he assures Sean. "Glitter can be tough if it wants to." Micah leans in for observing artwork. "I'm sure Sean's are wonderful, but so're yours, Mr. Modesty. I like that your work comes out with a big dose of /you/ in it. S'part of its charm." Sean looks back and forth between the two as they discuss heavier things, shaking his head and takes a swig of the vodka from the bottle, not bothering to pour it into something else. "That's good that he's tough at least. I'm not really much for it. I don't like fighting, or pain all that much. I mean I broke my leg skiing but that's different." Shaking his head he opens the portfolio to the first protected image, conveniently enough snow covered. A well bundled person is positioned to hop onto a ski lift, with the chair behind them and the sun glinting off reflective goggles. "That's one I really liked the timing of, the paint was kinda a bother to work right to get the reflection. But I still liked it." Flipping to the next, it is in the subway, the doors open on a subway car still as people are crammed in tight like sardines, and based on the number of business suits it was probably during a rush hour time of day. "I end up scrapping a lot of images I start, just because the timing isn't right. Sometimes I'll go and hang out at a spot for days at a time to see when people are most likely doing what I'd like to draw. Other times, I just get lucky." He smiles at that, and the next photograph in there is a small sculpture of a man cutting wood, the axe embedded into the log and and split logs laying on both sides. "Clay is fun to work with too. I almost like it better than painting sometimes, just because I feel more like I'm part of it you know? A picture just makes you feel like you're watching it from a window. But a sculpture, I feel a bit like I'm god and moving things into place." "I just --" But Jax doesn't finish whatever this thought is. He nestles back further into the couch, holding out his freshly emptied shot glass towards Sean's bottle hopefully. The thick dark shadows curled around him start to lighten as he focuses on Sean's portfolio, a slow smile curling across his face. "Oh. Gosh these are fantastic. S'like. A little window of /time/ just. Catched right there." He leans in to peer at the picture of the sculpture a little closer. The smile widens further at Sean's comments. "I guess workin' with /things/ is just a whole different experience. Does feel a little like creation-magic, I ain't no sort of hand at sculpture like that but I work glass a lot. An' s'just like pulling /life/ outta this lump of nothin'." His cheeks flush a little darker, shoulder bumping up lightly against Micah's. "You're kinda biased, I think," he answers with warm amusement. "Kinda /real/ biased, I don't know as there's many folks would find my brand of crazy /charmin'/." "We're not alla us fighters, but there's sure uses for other roles in the world, too. Ain't no count against you," Micah reassures Sean gently. He is quieter as he observes the pictures, letting the artists talk shop for the most part. "Guess some of what I do can feel like that...takin' base pieces an' makin' 'em into things that got as elegant a form an' purpose as I can give. 'Specially with prosthetics...when those go from bein' /stuff/ t'parts of people." A smirk tugs at his lips as he looks over to Jax. "Biased nothin'. Who's t'say I ain't just got better /taste/ than your 'many folks'?" Sean smiles watching the married couple a moment. "I'll have to see some of your stuff sometime I guess. Well ones that aren't changing the entire world another color, and well what I saw on a tablet this one guy had at a tea shop." Nodding a bit, he starts flipping through the pages a little faster, not really stopping to talk too much. One picture is of a bar, empty and dark at night with all of the chairs on tables, another is an empty forest glade with just some flowers growing in it. An empty beach at sunset is done in chalks, and almost seems like the waves will wash away the chalk itself. "It's part of why I like to travel a lot. The more places I go, the more places I can draw without needing a reference piece. Though, the next one I'm really proud of. I mean, it's kinda sad that people take coral from reefs and such, it's totally bad for the environment, but...." he turns the page over to an underwater scene, in the middle of a coral reef done in oil paint. Little fish swim through bright blue water, through various coral patterns, all brightly colored and happy like a scene from Nemo. "/You're/ actually makin' people-parts that's like one step closer to the god-thing," Jackson answers Micah with a laugh. "Art that's part of people. An' helpful. -- /Oh/." His breath catches audibly at the underwater scene, and he lowers his hand with shot glass still held in it to rest on his knee. "Oh, that's gorgeous. The colours you put in that is somethin' else. -- Can you jus'. See anywhere you been before, then? When you're --" He gestures towards the page. "Doin' your thing." Micah chuckles at the mention of the world changing colours. "Hm, yes. That particular dream sure /did/ end up as some kinda publicity for Jax's art, didn't it?" He draws a deeper breath at the underwater image when it is revealed. "Ohwow. That's incredible. Beautiful depth t'the colour. Uh, no pun intended," he thinks to add after a beat. "I guess there's some coral bits that just break off as natural process an' all, though. Y'can do drawin's or whatever of places based on havin' a thing, just like y'do people?" The faint blush lingering across Micah's cheekbones deepens, threatening to move from pinks to reds. "Ohgosh. I got no need for godlike status. Just...helpin' make folks better's enough for me." "Well, it's not really seeing seeing. Um, how do I explain it," Sean passed the vodka over to Jax when he realized he was starting to gesture with it. "Okay, you know like those magic pictures they gave to kids? Where they had that little marker pen that doesn't really draw anything, and then pictures that are just blank pages till you run the marker over it?" Sean looked between the two hoping for a look of recognition. "Well, anyway it's kinda like that. When I want to draw something, or somewhere my mind kinda makes a snapshot, but I don't really see it just then." Wiggling his fingers about, he smiles. When I make the drawing, it fills in the blanks, like I know what I'm drawing as I'm drawing it. Or shaping it. It's like I have a lot of information but I only know what that information is when it comes out. So something like a clay shaping it's /Sooo/ much more information like, textures and ridges and bumps and everything." Grinning at Micah's godlike status, Sean chuckles. "It is a bit more impressive making useful things instead of pretty ones." He nods though at Micah's question. "Yeah, places are fine too. It's like they have the same impressions that people do. But, they're easier to corrupt kinda? Like if I get a Shark tooth, well it came from a shark, but it's been out of its mouth for however long, so it may just be associated with the beach. But if someone puts it on a string and wears it forever, then it's theirs.” Shrugging, he offers another smile, “I don't really make the rules, it's just whatever is the strongest thing its connected to is what I can picture out." Jackson takes the vodka bottle, refilling his shot glass to down another. Then refilling it again before he passes the bottle back to Sean. "That," he says with a brighter smile, "is -- pretty. Fantastic." The shadows around him have all but disappeared, replaced instead by a misty silvery glow that twines loosely around his limbs. "Maybe like. Some kinduva -- psionic connection then. Does that mean," he wonders lightly, "that /things/ have feelings? I mean. If I take a rock off my farm does it -- feel real attached t'its home for a while until it -- finds a new home I guess." A faint shudder ripples through him, smile skewing a little crooked. "-- Shark-teeth, though. Those should. Definitely stay /in/ shark-mouths. They don't get happy when you pull them out." "Don't know about more impressive. More practical applications, maybe. But pretty's nice an' has its purpose, too." Micah's head tilts at Sean's power descriptions. "Huh. That's interestin'. An' useful, too." He shrugs at Jax's question. "Dunno if the things have feelin's so much as they just have associations of persons or places tied into 'em, maybe. But who's t'say?" Reaching over, his hand rubs small circles on Jax's back. "Sharks do lose teeth for perfectly natural reasons, too, sugar. Ain't always people...doin' things. It's okay." "I don't really know if it's got feelings, but yeah. It's just kinda how the thing feels." Sean nods a little at that, then nods again at what Jax says. "Yeah, sharks make like a bajillion teeth, and they come out when they chomp on stuff a lot. Like rows and rows of teeth. And like tiger sharks? They sometimes eat the weirdest things, like license plates and tires and stuff. So teeth will just get knocked out all the time from hard stuff like that." He smiles and looks to the two. "But like, if you did have rocks from your farm, I could totally draw the farm. Well, small bits of it where the rocks were from. Probably." "Maybe the rocks miss being at home." Jackson rests his other hand on his knee, too, fingers scratching absently against the grain of his jeans. "Maybe they dream about goin' back where they come from an' when they talk to you --" He tips his shot glass slightly towards Sean, "s'like they're trying to explain where they belong." His pierced lips curve into a bright grin. "-- or maybe mutant powers are just /crazy/ as all heck." The silvery light creeps up over Micah's arm, too, when the other man reaches to rub at Jax's back. "My pups have way too many teeth. You couldn't see it when you drew B on account of he hardly ever likes to /open/ his mouth but when Shane grins it's just -- more shark teeth than you ever want to run into. An' a sneaky second row waiting behind the first for when they fall out." He gulps down the last shot, returning the empty glass to his knee. "Thank you," he adds again to Sean, nodding towards the underwater-picture. "Your work is --" His mouth twitches slightly. "You are pretty fantastic." "Ohgosh, honey. Don't go fillin' yourself up feelin' sorry for rocks, now. We got plenty enough sadness out there as it is." Micah's fingers curl in to scritch nails lightly across Jax's back before withdrawing. "An' I'll definitely second the powers bein' crazy thing," he adds with a giggle. "Oh! You ain't met our boys, have you?" Micah fishes through his pocket to retrieve his phone, powering the screen on and running a finger across it a few times before finding a picture with all three of the boys in it, two blue and rather sharklike in appearance and one younger sandy-blonde, gathered around one of Spencer's K'nex creations. True to Jax's description, Shane is smiling a rather impressively toothy smile and 'Bastian is not. Spencer looks extremely pleased with himself in that way that eight-year-olds are able to accomplish so well. "The one with the hat's Shane. Other twin's Sebastian an' the little one's Spencer," he explains, holding the phone over for Sean to see. "Yeah it's pretty weird. But soooo awesome. Like seeing places I'll never get to go. Oh man, I should totally make a sculpture of a coral reef sometime. I'll just need to go scuba diving or something. But even if I sculpt the fish, it's sooo hard to just make them positioned right. Maybe I can like, make an agar solution and float them where they should be in that. Like a diorama." Sean nods to himself, perhaps the vodka has reached his brain a bit. Leaning over to look at the picture, he nods a little. "Oh I recognize that one. I hope he didn't mind the picture I drew. I mean, it can be kinda creepy knowing someone can just see what you're doing when it's not even really possible," he frowns a bit at that. Nodding at Jax and the gushing over the arts, "I'll see about sending a print over if you guys want. Or I can just send the file or something. Some people like the digital stuffs a lot." Nodding to himself with a grin, he says "I am pretty awesome aren't I. Also humble." "See look /so many teeth/." Jackson points to the picture with an emphatic nod. "I mean, don't get me wrong the pups are gorgeous but sometimes there is. Too much teeth. When you spook one of them it's like suddenly their faces are /nothin'/ except /eyes and teeth/." He holds his hand up in a circle by his sunglasses, widening his fingers to indicate just how /much/ enormous-black-eye he means. "Spence has a more -- manageable allotment'a both. All he got in over-abundace is /hyper/." He reaches a hand out to squeeze at Sean's knee while the other man is leaning in to look at the picture. "Naw he thought it was. /Neat/. He's real used to all /kindsa/ crazy-powers. He just gets. Fascinated. Because s'fascinat -- ing." His squeeze lets up, though his hand stays where it is as he bounces in his seat with a little bit of excitement. "Oh. Ohgosh that'd be such a /pretty/ print. I like -- colours. An' fish. An' coloury-fish. An' you /are/ awesome I don't. Think you gotta be humble. About stuff you're awesome – at." "Pretty awesome," Micah agrees with a lopsided grin. "An' if y'sell prints, that'd be great. Good t'have some of your work 'round that /isn't/...what we commissioned. As appreciated as all that is, ain't exactly what y'wanna put on the /wall/." Jax's portrayal of the boys has him giggling again. "Got an over-abundance of /brilliant/, too. All the boys did. An' that ain't just me bein' biased again." Turning the screen off on his phone, Micah slips it back into his pocket. "We prob'ly shouldn't keep you, though. Interrupted your paintin' when we came in..." Sean pats Jackson's hand on his knee and gives a smile, then chuckles at the children talk. "It's nice you have such a lively family. I don't think I'll ever really have one myself, it's not really something I see really." He does however giggle at his own comment. "Heh, not seeing. But yes, I can totally send you the pretty fishy image file and if you want the prints like for a wall I can totally let you know the place I use for it. Dunno if you want like the print on canvas stuff, or just like standard flat print. Sooo much easier to hang on walls then." Nodding at Micah's comment, he smiles. "Yeah, I was just trying to get back to drawing happier things. I think that that there might be a pigeon or two coming. Or a squirrel if I'm lucky. Oh yeah, I need to bundle up the picture for you, and then you can gets going. Holds on." Extracting himself from the chair a little wobbily, he heads over to the Matt picture and starts folding the butcher paper around it carefully. "I didn't think I'd never have one either," Jackson admits with a lopsided smile. "But then I kept pullin' kids outta cages with no homes t'go back to an' --" His hand slips away as Sean stands, falling back to the couch cushion beside himself; there's a trail of glow that he leaves behind, silvery as well and unfurling where his hand hand been to curl in misty-faint aura around Sean as the other man moves. "Ohgosh are we leavin'?" His brows lift, a faintly disappointed note in his voice. "But he's --" he starts to protest to Micah, and then flushes darker red. "Oh, we /did/ interrupt didn't we? Okay-okay. I guess we can. Leave y'alone, right. An' draw happy-squirrels." Micah's blush finds a truer red in answer to Jax's. "Oh...ohgosh, honey, I didn't mean t'rush you, I just... Didn't wanna. Um. Keep Sean from his work but oh. Apologies. I mean. I wouldn't mind stayin' if everybody was wantin'...t'do that. I dunno some people like breaks an' some folks can work an' talk at the same time. An' others don't. Whatever y'all folks are wantin' to do. I'm gonna stop talkin' now." "No its okay, I know you need to show the picture to his brother and that's super important." Sean bobs his head a little tipsily as he wraps twine around the papered image carefully, with his tongue stuck between his lips in concentration. When he's tied a nice bow, he nods and smiles. "There, now it's ready to leave. But yeah, I can draw and talk, but I tend to forget that there are people and all. As I said, it's kinda like the magic picture, just go and scratch the haze away till it's a full picture. So its kinda like automatic, but sometimes it just takes over everything. It's so hard to describe, I don't really think I could ever really get it across. You'd sorta have to live in my head and all." He taps his head a bit and nods. "Thank you for the cookies and I can totally eat them all and bring your container back to you. " Jax turns on the couch to watch Sean tying up the picture, rather intently focused on the other man. His cheeks flush deeper at Micah's answer, and he shakes his head as he leans forward to set his empty shot glass down. "Oh! You can bring the container /back/." He seems pleased with this answer, bouncing slightly where he sits; the shimmery glow around him brightens. "It's okay," he informs Micah, /very/ earnestly on this Important Point: "-- he'll still be pretty when he comes to bring the tupperware back." He braces his hands against the couch -- preeetty unsteady himself when he pushes to his feet and moves towards Sean. He takes the picture with one hand, reaching out with the other to offer another hug. "And thank you. Again. Like seventeen -- million -- lots of thank you." “That sounds like we /should/ leave y'to it then,” Micah says of Sean's painting. “An' you bringin' back the container s'an excellent excuse t'have y'to dinner. Just give us a holler when y'wanna come over an' we'll make sure t'have somethin' y'like. Both of us cook like it's the last time anybody'll ever have food, so there's always plenty.” His cheeks burn brighter, neck and ears getting in on the game with Jax's 'pretty' comments. He steadies Jax with a hand on the other man's arm when he looks wobbly, also going over for a farewell hug. “We really can't thank you enough for your help with this. Dinner, though, give us a call.” Sean hugs the both of them when offered, a letting out a little sigh. "Its okay. I don't mind helping. But...like, please no more for a bit? I know it was super important, but I don't want my life to be like an episode of CSI with bodies and blood everywhere." He nods a bit at that looking to the two of them. "I know the world is pretty much horrible, but its nice to be able to pretend it isn't for a bit. But yes, I will totally come over and eat all your food." Drawing a little x over his heart. "Cross my heart, promise. And then if you need more like that," he gestures to the picture Jax is holding, "later on, I can try and help then if you need it." Jax squeezes Sean tight, tipping his head up to peck the older man lightly on the cheek before stepping back. "No more," he agrees, mimicking Sean's gesture to trace an x over his own heart. Where his finger traces the X appears in glimmering purple glow. "Just -- eating delicious food. Without any horrible -- anythings. Can pretend like the world is --" His head shakes slowly. For a moment the apartment around them starts to fade from view -- instead the floor underfoot is replaced by soft green grass, the walls overgrown with large stands of peach trees, sunlight flickering down between the leaves to dapple the grass. "-- s'only just pretty. For a little bit at least." For a moment he leans against Micah's hand, but then steps back with a bright smile, the orchard vanishing in a blink to leave Sean's apartment back to normal. "Right-okay gettin' out your hair. Dinner soon. Thankyousomuch." His steps have not gotten any less wobbly when he heads back towards the door. Forgetting his shoes on the way. “We hope not t'call on y'for such things /any/ time soon. But thank you again. That was...alla the missin' folks we had an' we had quite a few of 'em recently. S'a blessin' that we met you.” Micah smiles brightly at Sean with that. “You get back t'makin' pretty things, though. An' I'll get m'tipsy husband here back home. Have a good day, hon.” He wraps an arm supportively around Jax to lead him to the door, softly reminding, “Shoes, honey, it's cold,” when the illusionist tries to keep right on his merry. Getting /both/ of them into their shoes, he then leads them down to the van. Where he will /so/ be the one driving. Sean offers a little wave to them both as they back away, and heads over towards his easel. "Have fun getting home. Er, well. As much fun as you can with the driving home parts." He turns towards his picture and the slightly dried paints. "Oh, I fix it." Mixing in a bit more, he gets back to work, and there Is a squirrel! And two pigeons. Very happy. Totally no sad people or anyone doomed at all.