Logs:Asueto
| Asueto | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2024-11-16 "What on earth am I gonna do with myself I got no clue." |
| Location
<NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side | |
Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse. It's shaping up into a pleasantly mild afternoon, and the patio at Evolve is bustling. Ion probably intended to come here to get a coffee but the coffee has been long since forgotten. He's perched on the railing outside, in jeans and grungy white undershirt underneath his well-worn and well-tended cut, leaning in towards a table filled with teenagers almost more exuberant than the electrokinetic is. "-- like blam! blam!" Ion is retelling, animated hand motions indicating, no doubt, the punctuating eye-punches in this storytelling. "Knock those clawy fucks right out the water. Like, seconds to spare before my boy Salinas swoop in like some nick-of-time damn eagle to --" Whoosh, his hand is giving a lot more flair to teleporting than it really needs. "Like you all ain't even know how badass these boys get when shit's got real, huh." Jax is just slipping out of the cafe, blandly dressed in worn overalls and a red and black flannel, a hot coffee clutched in both hands. He drifts over, fetching up on the outside of the fence to eavesdrop on this story. "I seem to recall at least a little badassery on your part, too." "Not while I was flailing in the damn water, that shit scare me half to fucking death -- every one your damn teachers cool as ice, though. -- Go back your complaining, I gotta say hi my boy --" Ion is leaving the teenagers with his tale half-told, hopping down over the wall to pick Jax up in a fierce and slightly zappy hug. "{Look at you} all free and -- shit, half dead though, boy, fuck. Killed your motor good didn't they?" Jax's breath hitches in quick and sharp, but despite his small wince he is returning the hug, once he's set back down. "I was such a dangerous prisoner over at SHIELD, guess the feds didn't want to take no chances." Jax is wandering farther away from the kids, taking a sip of his coffee and then offering it to Ion. "You fill 'em with too much colorful nonsense you're gonna ruin Scott's rep." "You topple a whole fucking military project on they watch." Ion clicks his cheek derisively against his teeth. "Anyway, survive enough alien deathmatches your rep ruin itself." He takes the coffee in his hook, ambling along at Jax's side. "{Tell me} you take some time off, at least, getting real damn sad if jail the only vacation you get." "... I guess I did do that." Jax is grimacing, a little exaggerated, "-- but I didn't use my powers none to get it done." This is followed by a small amendment: "Well, maybe for a little extra sparkle but not, like, for the toppling, it woulda happened pretty much the same if I was depowered then too." He stops at the empty storefront next door, once a youth center and now searching for new occupation; taking a seat on the front stoop, he tips a crooked smile up to Ion. "I took so much time off. Quit my whole job." "Same but less shine." Ion is dropping down to sit beside Jax. He has just taken a gulp of coffee when this last news half-chokes him, coffee spraying out of his mouth and his eyes watering. "{Quit your -- you?} Which fucking -- the school?" He passes the cup back to Jax, head bowing so that he can lift the hem of his shirt and wipe at his face. "The fuck they do?" comes in a very 'Who do I need to punch' tone. Jax cups the coffee close, slumping against the staircase railing. He flicks a nail against the edge of the heat sleeve, and a small smile flits across his face at Ion's spittake. "Sugar, t'ain't like that, I just --" His eyes drop to the top of the coffee cup, head shaking. "I just, I had a talk with Scott yesterday and he -- we --" His mouth twists briefly to one side. "There's prob'ly better places I could be, y'know? Places that ain't putting our kids in danger. Places that," he's continuing with a sudden grimace, "gonna be thrilled to hire a mutant terrorist oh, gosh -- I mean, whatever, it's fine, ain't like Ryan's gonna turn me out in the streets, I just. What on earth am I gonna do with myself I got no clue." "The Boy Scout say that?" Ion frowns, turning to the side to rest against the rail opposite Jax. "{For real for real?} Be some wild bullshit leave you hang out and dry after all the -- {you sure}?" He rests one arm over his crooked-up leg, hook clack-clacking restlessly. "You need a sugar daddy, Sunshine, I think you have offers mile long. Think there hell of people be damn glad to have you on they team, though." For a moment, Jax's brows crease, pulling in deep like maybe he is not quite sure, but then he just exhales hard. He sets his coffee on the step above him, his eye flicking toward the clack of hook. He scrubs at his face, then drops his hand to his lap. "Thanks, honey-honey, but I ain't looking for a sugar daddy." A beat. "Yet." Ion barks out a laugh, and hops back to his feet. He leans against the railing, hook tapping jitteryquick on the metal. "{Fine, good, Ryan can keep your bills.} But no job, no bomb wait to boom in you, maybe today you actually have some damn fun, huh?" He holds a hand out to help Jax back to his feet. "If you still remember how." "Oh, sugar, I shouldn't, I gotta --" It's coming automatic, reflexive, but Jax pauses, frowning again. His tongue presses at the corner of his mouth, lets off when there's no lip ring there to wiggle. He bites at his lip instead, fingers twining and untwining in his lap. "-- I guess I don't -- have..." He trails off with a hard press of his palms to his thighs, and then picks his coffee back up. He takes Ion's hand, gripping tight to the other man's arm as he rises. "I'm a little outta practice, but I bet you could show me." Ion's grin is wide and bright. His hand stays clasped around Jax's for just a second before the world jolts into darkness. | |
