Logs:Deeply Rooted
| Deeply Rooted | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2020-09-01 << { yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes } >> |
| Location
<PRV> VL 403 {Geekhaus} - East Village | |
This is a small, two-bedroom apartment, the living room semi-open to the kitchen and dining area, a single bathroom situated between the doors to the bedrooms. The common areas are beautifully appointed with solid, matching handmade wooden furniture in intricate geometric mosaics. The kitchen table is ringed with coordinated but not identical chairs, two of them modular with low scooped backs, designed with winged bodies in mind. The wide, low coffee table fits neatly into the corner of a modular sectional couch, and the immense television is enthroned in an entertainment center that also houses various consoles and video games. The walls are lined with bookshelves laden with comics, roleplaying supplements, board games, speculative fiction, and a grab-bag of technical texts. The walls in between are adorned with some framed posters of classical science fiction and fantasy media along with a few pieces of gorgeous if unusual original art. It's early in the morning. Dawson has been back a short while already, still dressed in his work clothes (khakis, a pale blue button-down that is a bit more rumpled now than when he left last night) and currently tucked at the kitchen table nursing a large glass of orange juice and a small plate of eggs. It's quiet in here, and as yet he seems disinclined to break the comfortable stillness, just slowly working his way through (breakfast? dinner?). The normally rapid-flitting chaos of his mind is -- not quiet, certainly, but more muted than it often is, various strands of thought (a patient whose prognosis he's worried about batting up against Spencer's recent ill health, Shane languishing in jail, how Kieow's flight went, appreciation for the creamy-herby eggs in front of him, whether Steve is free today, the still-acute need for doctors around the country) grinding slow and ponderous against each other before collapsing into a more formless mass of stress. Somewhere in the middle of this he's forgotten about the food, dragging his fork through the eggs without continuing to eat them. Dawson may have forgotten, but Hive has not. The quiet mental nudge that comes is unobtrusive, just one small tug at one of the many interlaced strands of their mind. Drawing Dawson's attention back down to the plate. He's sipping at coffee, casual in jeans, a moss green t-shirt with a black graphic of a banyan tree superimposed on the outline of a single banyan leaf. Where their minds overlap his is quieter, less stress and more sleepy, nestled up against the comfortable familiarity of Dawson's with a lot of observation and very little comment. Up in Dusk's room, Kieow's mind begins to wake from slumber. Every part of her feels heavy both from the exertion of a long day of travel and the illness that still lingering in her system. She breathes shallowly, the air mostly flowing between her nose and mouth, chest rising and falling to power the inhalation with no room to really put it anywhere useful. The practice does give her a hint of the smell of the room she's in and hint of its usual occupant along with the earthy smell of fresh dirt. << {Not Bua?} >> Kieow is a little unsure. It has been a while since she really had a chance to remember what he smells like. She doesn't usually pay attention to stuff like that. She did lean on him the entire ride over here, but that was a very distant, fuzzy memory now, despite it being only a few hours ago. Oh. Yes. She is in the United States now. That's why she's cold - not actually cold... just not hot. She stirs a little, fingers digging into the sheets of the bed she now rests on and reaches out quietly to someone she knows has to be listening. << Bua? >> Dawson returns to eating slow but steady at Hive's prompting. He leans up into the mental touch with a slower relaxation, stresses not vanishing but their weight lightening against the stronger bolstering of Hive's deeply-rooted mind. The feel of another stirring mind pulls his attention up with a flutter of worry and a quick smile. It's his voice and not Hive's that first answers Kieow, bridging the gap with practiced ease and a spill of mental warmth: << {You made it!} >> Hive's answer trails Dawson's. Slower to rouse himself, slower to stretch long sturdy boughs out between them -- not actually melding down into her mind, again, but offering the connection without forcing it. << {He just got home. Not long ago. You want company? We could make the couch cozy out here, too.} >> Kieow wakes faster and her eyes crack open finally, blinking the weight of sleep off with each elongated blink. << Fffoooooonnnnnnn >> Her mind clings, bright and green, tendrils of vines wrapping around each thought projected to her. Both of her brothers' minds are as enrapturing and magnetic as the sun and she does her best to grow toward them and face them with a flood of wordless excitement. << { yesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyesyes } >> company is a desperate need right now. Dawson is up from the table in a heartbeat; his rapid-flickering path around the apartment is difficult to visually track but ends in very short order with a heap of pillows and blankets piled onto the couch beside where Cat is curled up napping. << {Sorry I couldn't meet you. Was the flight okay? Do you have enough -- everything?} >> His mind is turning options over. Discarding an offer of food to ponder -- fresh water needs? A trip up to the roof to sunbathe? A park for fresher earth? This idle fretting is discarded as he knocks on Dusk's door, steps inside after this warning is given to offer a more tangible hug. Hive pulls himself out of his chair, too. The touch of his mind sinks in further, roots itself deep, Kieow's eager thoughts pulled in to join their mental network. He busies himself with arranging the Pile of Soft that Dawson has procured into a more welcoming sofa-nest. << {Been telling everyone how great you are so you likely won't be short on company options, for a while.} >> Kieow is still mostly supine when Dawson enters the room, her elbows slowly working backwards so she can lift her torso. She extends one very thin, very pale arm towards him when he enters, hand limply beckoning for a hug. << {We have all the time now, do not worry about the airplane.} >> Her normally vibrant skin is a sallow shade now, her hair like brown streaked grass, matted against her neck. She winds that arm around him as soon as he is close and leans against his physical form. << {So glad to hug you.} >> Under the blanket, her legs rest on a small tarp, a meager attempt to keep the dirt her white, hairy feet cling to in one place Her root system is far more exaggerated than it's been in memory, the white coils basketing the soil close, sucking all of the nourishment it can from the source. << {How great I am?} >> This does not computer. << {They going to be okay with me... just...} >> her mind scatters over the notion of just sitting there like a house plant, being green, being a scary source of infection. "{Unfortunately we've gotten lots of practice keeping people company while sick around here. I'm hoping we can get that infection taken care of quick, anyway, and then it'll be more like recovery-company.}" Dawson curls his arm back around her, squeezing close. "{But that's a problem for later. In the meantime we have so many blankets, an occasionally cuddly cat, and -- have you played No Man's Sky? I think you'd love it.}" A digital landscape populated by colorful and beautifully-drawn alien trees blooms in their mind. Hive makes his way to the doorway now, leaning with one arm resting against the frame. "{New York is a whole different world, here. 'Sad plant' is not even close to the weirdest thing our friends have had to deal with.}" << {Recovery company sounds nice.} >> Kieow's eyes shine gratefully at Dawson, before turning to search her blood brother's face. Her thoughts loop around Fon's once more, captivated by the world he shows their mind. << {Ohh, that does look nice. I didn't have No Man's Sky back home. Just old wii games. But first... you (both) need to tell me what you have been up to lately. I want to know everything. Details!!} >> | |
