Logs:Loomings
| Loomings | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | |
| In Absentia | 2022-01-14 "If I get any roses and chocolates from MAD I will be very impressed and even more terrified." |
| Location
<PRV> Tessier Residence - Greenwich Village | |
Understated opulence claims this spacious and well-kept townhome, the decor throughout the whole of it of the highest quality and carefully chosen. The front door opens onto the entrance hall, a closet close at hand to receive coats and shoes -- the pale hardwood floors gleam underfoot, unsullied by tracked-in mess from outside. The living room beyond the entrance is all dark woods and pale earth tones, comfortable couches and armchairs and a thick soft rug laid down beneath. Two large and painstakingly aquascaped aquariums flank the entrance to the dining room, with several brightly coloured species of fish within. Most of the rest of the wall space, notably, is taken up with shelves -- shelves crammed with books of every subject and genre. A study branching off of the main hall is cozy, small, done in pale blues and lined with books as well around the large computer desk and smaller futon, though these rarer books are cased behind glass. Another securely locked door leads to the basement, and another to the full bathroom downstairs. The kitchen connects to the living room; in contrast, it is sleek and modern and well-appointed, stocked by someone who takes their cooking seriously. And takes their alcohol equally seriously -- to one side of the kitchen there is a fully-stocked bar. The back door to the kitchen looks out on a small well-kept garden. There's absolutely no press lurking outside the Tessier house right now, which in and of itself might make it a more desirable place to be than some other options. There's also fresh orange spice cake cooling on a cooling rack; Lucien is at the stove, still, briskly whisking cinnamon and nutmeg and ginger into a saucepan of hot cocoa. In jeans and impossibly soft blue sweater he looks cosy to suit the cocoa he's preparing; Ryan Black's "Winter Is" playing softly on the sound system and the hopeful-eyed dog lying at his feet complete the image. "Would you like to get out of town for the weekend? I could arrange that." Jax is perched on a kitchen stool across the counter, arms folded on the countertop and his head pillowed in the crook of an elbow. He's dressed in a pair of overalls printed with Kay Nielsen's fairytale illustrations over an ombre purple and blue sweater, brightly colored mismatched socks on his feet. "If I go somewhere that ain't my folks they'll be miffed I didn't visit an' if I go see my folks they'll worry me to death." His toes curl down against the rung of the stool, his nose scrunching. "Headin' back to the school or Ridgewood don't seem excellent, though, that's for sure, reporters are hoverin' like vultures. Maybe I should take Spence to Georgia." Matt is leaning against the counter beside Jax, chin propped up in the palm of one hand. He wearing a gray dress shirt, a vest in emerald green arabesque brocade, a matching tie, and charcoal trousers. "Mm, here I was about to offer you our basement." He cants his head slightly. "But really, even if we could compete with your parents in other areas, they won't be having a blizzard this weekend." He glances aside at his friend, brows furrowing ever so slightly. "We don't mean for this to blow over anytime soon, and you deserve any break you can find a chance to take from it." "I am sure he could use the break, as well." Lucien retrieves three mugs from the cabinet before turning the flame off under the cocoa. His head inclines toward his brother as he carefully fills each mug. "It seems doubtful this will settle down -- likely just segue into a new bout of media frenzy around mutants when registration rolls out next month." His tone skews a little wry. "How much vacation does your school allow you?" "Not enough to be gone until then," Jax replies with a small snort. "Gosh but with all the chaos I'd half forgot about next month." He pushes himself up, glancing toward Matt. "What a birthday present, huh? An' I thought my Valentine's Day couldn't get worse'n last year but this one seems on track to set a record." Matt groans and scrubs his hand over his face. "Oh gods, me too. Do you suppose there's room in that mug for brandy?" He slouches lower, but rolls his head aside to face Jax better. "If I get any roses and chocolates from MAD I will be very impressed and even more terrified." There's a searching keenness in his green eyes. "Was Valentine's Day particularly awful, last year? I mean, below and beyond how last year was just awful in general." Lucien tips his head down, eying the mugs in front of him. He sets the empty pot aside in the sink before going to retrieve a bottle of brandy from the liquor shelves, pouring a generous measure into one mug and raising his eyebrows questioningly at Jax. "Please." Jax nods at the bottle before propping his chin in a palm, elbow on the countertop. "Oh, gosh," he exhales a soft laugh, "I didn't mention this to you? Now it just seems silly but last winter I was --" His smile fades, a flutter in the lights around them that soon evens out. "Havin' a bit of a time," he continues, lightly, "an' a little bit of romance in my life for a change might actually have been nice an' then jus' when I was gettin' ready to go home an' eat ice cream on the couch watchin' romcoms an' feelin' sorry for myself Steve ambushes me after church with a heart on his shield all --" Jax hesitates, bats his eyes looks down with an exaggerated shyness at the ground before saying with an affected version of Lucien's Boy From Brooklyn stage accent, "Did you have plans today? I'd -- planned to ask someone out, I was hoping you could. Help me out with some advice." His easy smile and accent have both returned when he adds, "-- I tell you, my heart ain't fluttered like that since high school." "Merci." Whether revived by the prospect of fortifying beverage or Gossip, Matt finally levers himself off of the counter. His expression slowly skews lopsided at Jax's recounting. "He is hopelessly incompetent in the romance department, but color me intrigued. What advice, pray, did he want?" There's a very slight widening to Lucien's eyes. He pushes the two spiked cocoas across the counter, sets the bottle down and turns some of his attention to washing out the saucepan. Most of his attention, though, curious, stays on Jackson. "I ain't exactly been no --" Jax hesitates with a small crinkle of his nose. "-- is there a gay Casanova? Anyway, I'm not exactly no charmer myself. But anyway I tell him my afternoon's free and what's on his mind and he's like --" He pauses just a second, taking a breath before continuing, "-- 'I just wanted to ask you how you thought Ryan would feel if I started dating again, you two are close so I figured I'd ask'." Matt's brows wrinkle faintly as he scoops his mug close. "Oscar Wilde? Sappho? But come now, darling, you are wonderfully charming." He leans harder on the counter again, though his posture is intent now instead of languid. "Oh my gods, you are not serious." This sounds equal parts bemused and exasperated, and maybe just a touch thoughtful, but nothing suggests it is actually a question. "Every time I think that man can't possibly be more awkward. Do you want revenge? I don't think I'm his type, but I do like a challenge." "He what." Not a question, either; the words hang cool and delicate as frost in Lucien's voice. "On Valentine's Day." He's hung his pan aside on the drying rack, leaned down against the counter to curl his hands around his mug. "Goodness. Perhaps I ought stop inviting you both 'round for tea together. I admit," his gaze has lowered to the cup in front of him, "I ascribed much of your recent tension to your respective baseline awkwardnesses." A deep crimson flush rises to Jax's cheeks. He takes his mug, shaking his head in mild bemusement. "Revenge? Who d'you think I am? Anyway, a year ago feels like a whole other lifetime. I have given up fanciful silly ideas like finding love and made my peace with the reality that Valentine's Day's gonna be takin' up dealin' with loneliness an' fascism." He lifts his mug toward his lips, pausing before he takes a sip to add, "-- mostly fascism." | |
