Logs:Parental Advisory

Parental Advisory
Dramatis Personae Jax, Steve	2020-08-08 "What, as if we're just -- so strange and otherworldly we have to be represented as aliens?"
Location <PRV> VL 303 {Lighthaus} - East Village
This apartment is cheerful, in its way -- bright and airy, its floor plan open and a plethora of windows (their sills and window-boxes alive with a bounty of herbs) providing it with an abundance of light. The tiny entrance hall opens into a living room, small, though its sparse furniture and lack of clutter give it a more open feel. The decor is subdued and minimalist; black and white is the dominant theme, with occasional splashes of deep crimson to offset the monochrome, though of late myriad bright-coloured dragonflies swarm across the living room wall. The couch and armchair are upholstered in black corduroy, the low wide coffee table central is black wood and glass-topped, and a few large pillowy beanbags provide additional seating by the large windows that dominate the back wall. The living room and kitchen both hold a rather inordinate number of lamps in addition to the ceiling lights; standing lamps, small lamps on each counter, large sunlights in the corner. More often than not, they're largely all turned on, too. Towards the back, a couple of doors lead off into bedrooms and bathroom, and to the right, the kitchen's tile is separated from the living room's dark hardwood floors by black countertops. Above the bedroom to one side, there is higher space; a ladder climbs up to a lofted area looking down on the living room. Standing in front of the partition between living and cooking area is a large fish tank: one lone Betta, blood-red, swims regally among several species of black and silver fish. A hallway beyond the kitchen leads further into the apartment. Another bathroom stands just into the hall and the farthest door leads to the apartment's final bedroom, the door usually kept shut to hold in the acrid fumes of turpentine and paints from within. The living room has been for some time filled with fast-paced dialogue, effects, and music, but now the computer open on the coffee table displays a peaceful, pastel credit scroll. Steve is still staring at the screen, though. He picks up his lemonade and takes a long, slow drink. Sets it down. Sinks back against the cushions of the couch. Still scaring at the screen. "...I could do about anything," Rebecca Sugar's voice sings as the credits draw to an end, "I could even learn how to love...like you." "Wow," Steve finally manages. "That was -- intense. This is a children's program?" Dressed in black kilt with rainbow panels in the pleats, pink tank top that reads "Be nice to sex workers" with a smiley face in the O, Jax is curled up beside Steve on the couch, legs tucked under himself and a sketchpad in his lap, a half-shaded sketch on the page of Hive and Dawson in a series of ballet-like poses. "Oh yeah. It gets more intense. Then a little weird. But there's like -- three hundred percent more queer aliens on kids' shows now than when I was little. S'a nice change." Steve's in a tight green t-shirt bearing the silhouette of a dancing faun-creature bowing and extending one hand to a child above the words 'Amongst the Green and Growing Things' and perfectly fitted blue jeans, his shield propped against the side of the couch nearby. He looks down at Jax's sketch, then looks at the screen -- though now it's returned to the episode list for Steven Universe -- then back at Jax with an uncertain smile. "It's pretty great -- not just the art, though I love that, too. It's so lush and dynamic." Then he blinks. "Are there a lot of other kids' shows with -- queer aliens?" "I don't know about a lot but there's a few for sure." Jax's brows furrow, deep. "-- actually, when I think about it there are more queer aliens I can think of in kids' shows than queer humans. I'm not sure how to feel about that trend." His pencil spins rapidly between his fingers, his eye shifting from the page up to Steve. "Ain't no show gonna be perfect but I try to make sure the stuff that was around for Spence when he was little was at least -- not horrible. Theme-wise. There's stuff out that there's genuinely just copaganda for children, I ain't about that life for my kids." "What, as if we're just -- so strange and otherworldly we have to be represented as aliens?" Steve's eyebrows hike up slightly, his smile skewing crooked. "I guess I'm glad for any representation at all. If we could have had some of that in my day, maybe it wouldn't have taken me so long to..." He blushes, shaking his head. "What, no Paw Patrol for Spence?" He hesitates. "What about your older children? Or -- to be honest, I'm not even sure now how much older Shane is, he ah...looks. Young." "All cops are bastards, including Chase." A cartoon German Shepherd puppy in a police uniform appears on the computer screen, with a large red NO symbol flashing over top of him. "Oh, gosh, the pups turned twenty-two in March. They still do love watchin' She-Ra with us but I think they're a little past havin' me monitor their media." Jax shakes his head with a small laugh. "We are strange but I don't think you're-too-strange-to-even-be-human is exactly the messaging I wish for young queer kids. I'm glad for the rep, but I'll be glad when it gets better, too." Steve chuckles. "I'd have never heard anything about that show if not for that kerfuffle McEnany raised about it being cancelled." His blush deepens abruptly. "Twenty-two! I -- I thought -- I shouldn't have assumed, of course." He runs a hand through his hair. "Actually, I did used think they were both grown, just on account of what I'd heard they were up to, but then I also thought --" Bites his lower lip, studying Jax sidelong. "Well, I thought you were a lot older, too, before..." "Sometimes -- like Paw Patrol -- it's obvious but sometimes they're real insidious 'bout tryna brainwash kids into thinking collectivism is Satan and we all need state violence to keep us in line." Jax's nose wrinkles, but this expression dissolves into a surprised lift of brows, a soft laugh. "Before what? How old did you think I was? -- How old d'you think I am?" "I believe it. There was plenty of anti-Communist propaganda even in my day, and that was before the Cold War." Steve's head dips apologetically. "Before I'd seen you -- without the illusion, I thought you must have been in your 40s, at least." Then hastily adds, "Please don't take it the wrong way, it wasn't just because of your kid. It's also just...how you take care of everyone." He somehow manages to blush deeper, here. "Frankly, I have no idea now. If you don't mind my asking, how old are you?" Jax covers his mouth, eye twinkling with his stifled laugh. "Oh -- oh gosh. Should I be flattered? Maybe I'm flattered. I don't barely feel like I got my life together at all most days but I'm glad I give off a more together aura." His cheeks are slightly flushed as he looks down at his drawing. "I turned twenty-eight in June. Was just a year ahead of Flick -- Dawson in school." "I don't want to say you should be flattered," Steve says, his blush receding and his smile returning, "but you do put on an amazing show. And the taking care of folks? That's real enough." He blinks rapidly, eyes going wide. "Oh! Happy belated birthday!" He pauses, thoughtful. "Your children...well, Shane and B, anyway, they're hardly that much younger than you." "No, they ain't." Jax hesitates. His pencil spins faster, a rapid blur between his fingers. He shifts in his seat, resting one leg out to curl his toes against the edge of the table, bob his knee rapidly. "They didn't -- really have nowhere, when we got them out of Prometheus. Their birth family --" His jaw tightens, head shaking. "Anyway it was a devil of a time keepin' 'em from ending up back there, the government's got -- a long reach, 'specially when it comes to mutant kids who they say are a danger to society. It was kind of a legal convenience, at first, making sure they had an adult to speak for 'em, but then --" His shrug is small. "I mean, they're my family." Steve's eyes widen. "Dear God, every time I think Prometheus cannot possibly be any more awful than I already thought -- but then, you and Dawson were just kids, too, when they took you." His head shakes once, sharp and disgusted. "I'm so sorry, but I'm glad they've got you. Glad you've got them, for that matter." A faint flush returns to his cheeks. "I'm sure you've been told this plenty, but you are really a remarkable fella." He reaches for Jax. Hesitates. Then, evidently discarding whatever made him stop short, curls an arm around the smaller man and pulls him close. "We were. They were. Lord only knows how many more they done it to." Jax swallows, pressing his lips thin. His smile returns quick enough, though. "Heard it once or twice, but I could stand to be reminded." He leans in, arm curling back, around Steve as he nestles close to the other man's side. "Got time for another episode?"