Logs:And They Have a Plan

And They Have a Plan
Dramatis Personae Polaris, Wendy	2021-02-06 "What is the new, um, Mormoner plan?"
Location <NYC> Polaris, Wendy, and Winona's Apartment - Lower East Side
This tiny apartment is on the fifth storey of an aging and ill-maintained walk-up, its walls dingy and paper-thin. The living room immediately inside the entrance has space for a couch and a coffee table, but little else, though its windows offer a commanding view of the narrow side street below to anyone who cranes far enough to look past the rusting fire escape. The kitchen is tiny and has no windows at all, but being partly open to the living area is at least not completely claustrophobic. One bedroom is almost the size of the living room, which doesn't say much, and the other is much smaller -- really only intended as a study or home office -- to make room for the single closet-sized bathroom. Even with mostly cheap, second-hand furniture, the place has grown steadily more homey over the months. A creaky futon is flanked by an empty food service drum on one side and two stacked milk crates on the other. In place of a coffee table is a long, low bench with a flowery sarong as a tablecloth. Potted herbs line the windowsills, and whimsical metal sculptures line the walls and tables (or the items serving in place of them). A brightly colorful fused glass mezuzah is mounted in the doorway, while a set of matching candlesticks and goblet sit on a disintegrating radiator cabinet in the living room. It's been a mild and sunny Shabbos considering the season, but it is ended now and the temperature is dropping precipitously outside as snow-laden clouds loom in the northwest. The apartment still smells of savory sautéed onions and garlic, though the meal prep has progressed well past that. It's probably a lucky thing that Polaris's cheap Bluetooth speaker puck is not particularly powerful, because she's been blasting the Frozen 2 soundtrack at maximum volume since she started cooking. Polaris herself is standing at the counter, singing as she dices potatoes--actually the last step of this recipe before it's left to simmer. She's home-casual and, despite hair still damp from an earlier shower, evidently unbothered by the inadequacies of the ancient radiator system in a black ribbed tank and green pajama pants adorned with graphics of black cartoon lightning bolts. "Where are you going? Don't leave me alone!" she belts along with Idina Menzel's Elsa, "How do I follow you--into the unknown!" Wendy has been pjs-casual since just after havdalah, and is currently emerging from a still steamy but now freshly scrubbed bathroom, a lightly herby hippie-cleaner scent still clinging to her as she tugs down the sleeves of her bulky sweater. She's singing along brightly with the tail end of the song, traipsing on her socked toes over toward the counter to sniff at the pot. "Can we switch to something summery," she asks as the song winds down, "I'm about to scream thinking of another week biking in the snow." Polaris looks up from her chopping, a smile pulling at her lips even before she's quite let the last note of the song go. "Sure uhhh, gimme a sec." She sets the knife aside and wipes her hands off, makes a few taps on her phone. The music transitions smoothly--and evidently randomly--into "You're Welcome" from the Moana soundtrack. Her hips start jerking to the percussion of the song and she bumps Wendy gently aside so she can scrape the potatoes into the pot. "I see what's happening here," Dwayne Johnson sings from the Bluetooth speaker, "You're face-to-face with greatness and it's strange..." Stirring the last of the ingredients in, she turns and seizes Wendy, dances with her with more enthusiasm than skill out of the kitchen and into the living room. "Dinner in like, forty. Frak the snow, this is gonna be so good." Wendy's head bobs along with the new song. She transitions cheerily into singing this, too, and whirls along with Polaris, dropping down onto the futon and tucking her legs up underneath herself. "It's gonna be warm and that's the most important thing right now." Her brows scrunch, briefly. "For me. You --" She tips an uncertain lolok at Polaris's bare arms. "Probably have a whole different set of needs." Polaris picks up a soft dark blue fleece blanket with a white Tree of Gondor printed upon it and with a dramatic flourish drapes it around Wendy. "What, me? I'm warm," she declares, confident, as she drops down on the other end end of the futon. "I got potato curry, I got weed, I got you, and a Netflix subscription." Her eyes are just a touch too bright, just a touch too wild. "I definitely do not need to go out, get plastered, and dance all night." "That doesn't seem like maybe the best move if your goal is -- not getting smashed and maybe hooking up with strangers." Wendy shrugs, snuggling down into the blanket. "Though if your goals have changed I guess the plan can change too." Her toes curl in against the blanket, and she reaches down to pluck a stray piece of lint from her socks. "What is the new, um, Mormoner plan?" "It's--probably healthier, anyway," Polaris allows, working her cold bare feet under the edge of the blanket. "But yeah, you're right! I mean, I wasn't sure but I was feeling pretty manic so I've been thinking about 'The Plan'." She brackets the last two words with finger quotes. "I should probably uh. Have more people to call on than just like. You and Winona. And maybe...I dunno, maybe cut out the other substances too, you know?" Wendy sets her toes over Polaris's colder ones. "Other -- like what, weed?" Her eyes widen. "Coffee?" This sounds skeptical. "Is that a plan? Isn't that more of -- an anti-plan? I think I'm missing how that helps." "Weed, coffee, nicotine--everything." Polaris tries to settle herself, but even when physically still there's a restless energy in her. "And it's not cuz Brookelyn brainwashed me. I mean she'll be glad to hear it but she hasn't pushed me." This is faintly defensive. "It's just like...all that is bad for my self control. So if I quit that'll make it easier to actually follow a safety plan, right? Maybe I'll even do less dangerous stuff." Wendy's lips purse critically. She rests an elbow against the back cushion of the couch, cheek dropping against the squishy knit arm of her sweater. "Having things that are comforting is part of your safety plan. What are you going to replace them with?" Polaris arches one dark green eyebrow at this. "Um. Video games?" An almost imperceptible and yet somehow awkward pause later, she adds, "I've been meaning to read more, too." She's warming to her list, now. "Maybe I can pick up a new hobby, like knitting, or choir, or bird--" This cuts off abruptly before she continues. "--watching. Okay, maybe not that last one. I dunno." A hint of frustration creeps into her voice. "This is stupid, isn't it? Please tell me if it's stupid." "It's," Wendy considers, curling her fingers inward and pulling her hand back into her sleeve. "not --" Another hesitation. Her cheek mooshes down against the thick wool. "Smart." She puffs out her cheek, blowing out a heavy breath. "If that's what you want, you know I'm here for you. Historically just plunging into the deep end of a new regiment only tends to work out for a bit before the crash. What if you tried one new hobby and a daily caffeine limit?" Polaris does not look surprised by Wendy's assessment, but there's still a flash of indignation across her features, lightning fast--likely anyone else would have missed it. When she deflates a fraction of a second later it's a subtle thing. "I always do this when I'm trending up. I mean not this this, but--" The cyclical gesture of her hand is vague, conveying more exasperation than anything else. "Yeah, I should. Start smaller. I don't." She adds suddenly, and for a moment sounds as though she isn't going to elaborate. Then, "Don't really want to do it. I just feel like I have to do something--drastic? To get over him. And I don't want to like, leave the choice of that up to the mania." "I have no idea how you get over him." Wendy shakes her head a little regretfully. "He was kind of -- well. I don't think I've ever gotten over death. Just learned to --" The next shake of her head is harder. She wiggles her toes again. "Maybe you don't throw out everything. Keep things that work for you. Some friends. Some -- coffee. Some comfort. And if you want to shake things up --" Her mouth purses. "Oh! If you want drastic they've been building a whole mutant autonomous zone up in the Bronx. Leo says it's getting kind of fancy but I bet it could use some extra muscle." "I mean--I wouldn't really want to get over him, either," Polaris admits. "Guess I just wish it hurt less. Everything feels so raw and intense when I'm like this." Her toes, still cold beneath Wendy's, curl tight for a moment. "Makes it hard to talk to people." The faint feverish gleam in her eyes brightens at the suggestion. "Yeah! That'd be pretty cool. I mean, I love my Care Bear crew, and there's some mutants but like. Might be nice to meet more of our people that I didn't meet by getting locked up with them or whatever." There's a certain tension in her frame that suggests she's suppressing the urge to physically launch herself off of the futon and into the very thing they are discussing. Wendy's feet wiggle further over Polaris's. "Food first. Then you can zip off and join Ion's Merry Mutants. I have a feeling there's no end of -- outlets for energy up that way." Her cheek is still smushed up against her chunky sweater, her eyes soft. "You can still talk to me, you know. Raw or not." "Weed first," Polaris corrects her, "then food. Then--Riverdale." She snickers at this last word, subsiding into the futon again. It's a very deliberate settling. "I know. But sometimes I feel like I shouldn't. Like I should get my own sh--stuff together so I'm not always..." She makes another vague, circular gesture, this time in Wendy's direction. "Crazing at you." "I was actually going to watch Lupin," Wendy says with a small giggle, "but if you want pure trash --" She lifts a shoulder. After this, a silence, that stretches on a few moments as she considers. "I don't know what that means. You are getting yourself together. Isn't that what a plan is? Isn't that what reaching out for support is?" Polaris kicks Wendy's leg under the blanket, very gently. "I meant the autonomous zone, dork." Though she's grinning, all the while. "No hurry on that, though. I'll watch Lupin with you, it looks slick as frak." She subsides again, looking more genuinely relaxed this time. Just a bit. "I guess it is," she replies softly after a delay. "It--doesn't always feel that way. But I can take your word for it, until it does."