Logs:Something Like Human

Something Like Human
Dramatis Personae Hive, Skye	2020-12-05 "It'd be cool to go home together."
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 late -- very late -- and the lingering cafe patrons are largely spillovers from the club upstairs, dressed for dancing, talking too fast or too loud, the muffled thump of music beating through the ceiling. Hive doesn't really fit the vibe where he's tucked into a corner in jeans, a blue chambray workshirt, a tatty old canvas jacket draped on the back of his chair. The past month and change has not been kind to him, his face gaunt, his clothes hung loose on a bony frame, his eyes a little hollow where he's staring kind of -- through his laptop screen, right now. The coffee beside him is untouched, mug full and long since cold. His hand rests on the keyboard of his computer but he's not really doing much of anything with it, just tapping a finger idly at one key and staring at an email that he's gotten as far as addressing but left otherwise wholly blank. Skye is one of those upstairs spillovers, dressed tonight in black armwarmers with entirely unnecessary straps and buckles, holographic silver cropped top, iridescent blue-purple PVC pants, and polished black stiletto boots. She's just come from touching up her makeup in the bathroom to claim her chai latte and coordinating chai spice cupcake from the counter, and is just contemplating whether she'll even bother going back up to dance when she spots Hive with a jumbled admixture of relief and cognitive dissonance. << Wow, he looks like shit! Whens's the last time I even saw him. Should I bother him? >> Despite this uncertainty she's approaching him anyway. "Heyyyy uh..." She glances from him to his display to his coffee and back to him again. "Mind if I join you?" Hive doesn't look up. His finger keeps tapping, slow, at the F key. "Funeral, probably." His voice is a little rough. He stretches a leg out, bumping one chair opposite him out from the table a little. His other hand uncurls, flicking knobbly fingers towards the chair in -- maybe it's an invitation. "How's the dancing." Maybe it's an invitation. Skye decides to take it as such, sinking gratefully into the chair and setting her cupcake down in front of her. The chai she keeps, cupped between both hands now. "Yeah," she says quietly, a wave of grief passing through her, familiar by now if no less affecting. "The dancing is..." << Eh but what else am I gonna do? >> She tips her head from side to side. "It's ok? Not really feeling it, but I thought maybe I'd give it another try after some calories and caffeine, right?" Her eyes flick to his display, then again again with a vague flush of embarrassment. "You still working at this hour?" << Hah! Like I don't... >> "Gotta work some time. Clients get weird about paying if you just stop." Hive pulls his eyes up from the screen, though they don't quite focus on Skye. Kind of settle on her cupcake, instead. "Quieter about now, anyway. Sort of. Dreams and drunk people are a different kind of background noise, anyway." One of his shoulders hitches, quick and small. "I used to see you. More." Skye laughs, short and sharp. "Oh boy, they sure do." << Get more than just weird about paying, I'd have to manage wholeass nervous breakdowns... >> She looks around them, bending her ear to the bass she can feel as much as hear from upstairs. "Quieter, huh? I guess quiet's always relative in the city, for just about everyone." Somewhere in the back of her head she's dimly weighing the pros and cons of sleeping in her van, going back to her mother's in Flushing, or finding a hookup who'll let her stay over. She bows her head. "Yeah, I used to -- I came by a lot to hang out with Flicker..." << Dawson, >> though she doesn't correct this out loud. << Do I even 'hang out' anymore, in meatspace? Wow. >> "He was really good at orchestrating everyone's social calendar, huh." Hive's eyes stay fixed in place. His hands pull together, fingers loosely lacing against the wrist rest of his laptop. "So much shit I take for granted until --" He sucks in his breath slow, through his teeth. His brows knit. "You need a place to crash tonight? I got room, these days. Kinda too much fucking room." "Yeah, I mean..." Skye finally takes a sip of her chai latte, smooth and creamy and sweet. << Maybe he had to be good at it, for anything in his life to work? >> "I think taking people for granted -- sometimes it just means you know where you stand with them and you're comfortable there, even if just for a moment. Maybe that's ok, if they're comfortable there, too." The offer of a place to crash automatically and undramatically maps to sex in her mind. << He's never been interested before, but -- ohhh wait, Dusk's basically moved out, by now... >> "Honestly? That would be amazing. Kinda sucks sleeping in the van once it gets cold and..." She hunches her shoulders slightly, pressing her mug to her chin. "Staying at my mom's like -- complicated, right?" "Yeah." Hive's shoulders hunch down further. "S'a good place to be. Was a good place to be. -- I don't want to have sex with you." These thoughts are both delivered kind of bland, almost running together, but Hive pauses after this with a fleeting twitch of frown crossing his face before amending: "I'm not going to have sex with you. S'fucking cold out and Dusk's room's empty. Besides, I've got all this breakfast shit piling up in the fridge that'll spoil if I don't eat it. Keep -- forgetting to take his stuff off my Instacart." He unlaces his fingers. Reaches for his long-cold coffee, but doesn't actually pick it up. "Kinda far to your mom's, too." Skye raises an eyebrow at the clarification, but blushes faintly all the same. << Obviously he wasn't trying to get in my pants, he's a good guy and I'm too damn jaded. >> The mention of food reminds her of her neglected dessert, and she starts slowly peeling the paper liner from the cupcake. "I don't mind the far, but anytime I crash there really late I'm in for a Serious Talking To the next day about my 'lifestyle'." She shrugs this off. "Too much breakfast sounds like a much more appealing Sunday morning. Or...afternoon? I dunno what your sleep schedule is like these days but mine's uhhh flexible << totally fucked >>." Her eyes raise from the cupcake to Hive, lingering thoughtfully for a moment. << Stuff may be piling up for more reasons than just forgetting to change his recurring orders... >> "Anyway like -- if it's a help instead of a hassle for you, so much the better." "I take it she doesn't mean the hacking." Though a moment later, Hive is actually looking up at Skye, brows lifting with a sudden curiosity: "Wait, does she mean the hacking?" There's a tug at the sides of his mouth; he doesn't quite manage a smile, but for just a moment there's an easing to the heaviness that's settled into his face. "Sleep, shit. That's fucked. Can't promise you breakfast will be in the a.m. but it'd be -- good. To have someone to eat it with whenever." He lifts one hand, scrubbing his fingers through his shaggy hair along the side of his head. "Fucking weird having the place to myself. I don't even know how to cook for one. Kinda just -- stop doing it, you know?" "She definitely means the whoring." Skye shrugs again, though she does not feel as nonchalant about this as she looks. "The hacking worries her, too, but she doesn't disapprove of that." Her almost-smile come a beat after Hive's, quietly glad to see him so engaged, even if only briefly. "I'd like that. Like -- I enjoy sharing meals anyway, but also whatever breakfast you make when you get around to it will be great." << Sure beats the crap out of anything I could do down here in the congee-and-ramen league. >> She bows her head slightly. "I mean, I can't exactly relate seeing as I can barely cook for one, but it sounds tough." A slight hesitation, abstractly weighing whether being a telepath would make solitude easier or harder before deciding she honestly has no idea. "Sounds lonely." "Guess moms worry. But some kind of distance to it definitely helps make that -- more of a comfort than an aggravation." Hive's eyes lower again. "Probably sounds fucking dumb but I'm shit at being alone." He sucks his cheeks inward, chewing briefly at their insides. "I don't know if this is weird to offer or whatever, but it is getting cold as hell, and if you want somewhere to stay for -- longer. I'm doing exactly jack and shit with Dusk's empty room." "Yeah, like -- when she first got out I definitely didn't want any distance, but now..." Skye takes another sip of her chai, frowning at the vague sense of guilt she does not think she should feel. "We gotta figure out how to get along, going forward." She blinks at Hive. "That doesn't sound dumb." << It's not like he'd be used to it, right? >> "I'm pretty great at being alone, but I don't actually like it." The offer brings her up short with a flutter of uncertain excitement. << It's not that weird, but... >> "I don't know what you guys' rent is like, but if I can swing it and you're sure Dusk won't want his room back, I would love to." << God, how long has it been since I've had a real bedroom? >> Her memory has to sort through a long succession of couches and hostels and makerspaces and lovers' beds before landing on the last foster home that had given her a room of her own. "I haven't lived alone since --" Hive pauses. Frowns. Reconsiders: "I've never lived alone. Guess I had my own cell in the labs for a hot minute but, uh --" He shrugs, uncertain, but his words come more easily after her flutter of excitement. "Think I'm a better housemate now than I was when we all moved into there. Keep it clean, at least. Listen when my roommates tell me to stop doing annoying shit. Usually. Dusk's not coming back. I mean, he'll probably stop by to play games now and then. Pet the cat. S'got other shit going on housing-wise though." He scrubs his knuckles against his eyes, slouching back in his chair. "If you're real keen on paying rent for some reason, I'll tell you the rent, but, honestly? I'm making more fucking money now than I ever goddamn thought I would. It'd just be nice to not feel like I'm haunting my own damn apartment. Like. Maybe eat dinner together every once in a while. Start to feel like a human again, y'know? I promise you I am not hurting for the rent money." "Oh man, I'm sure you're a better housemate than I am." Skye ducks her head, abashed. "It's been a long time since I've had my own place, but then, my mom brought me up right and all." She's also thinking, now, of the boyfriends she's lived with and cleaned up after. And then her eyes go even wider. "Woah, seriously? I mean...my income is kinda unpredictable, especially has been this year." << Would be nice not to have to take the truly obnoxious clients... >> "So if -- it's really not a strain on your budget that would be a huge relief." She does manage a small smile this time. "And here I was about to say Cat's probably the best housemate. I'll try to measure up, though, and anyway, I am strongly in favor of you feeling like a human again." "Please. Cat's the worst fucking housemate. Never does his dishes. Doesn't clean his own shit. No respect for personal space. He's lucky he's cute." Something in the set of Hive's bony frame eases, here. He picks up his coffee now. Takes a long drink. "Sweet. Shit. Fuck. Now I just gotta actually get some of this inbox cleaned up or I'll be here till gorram breakfast." "That is like, the whole point of a cat, for most people," Skye points out, taking a big bite of her cupcake. << Mom's gonna disapprove of the whole living with a man thing, too, but that talk can wait. >> Dancing suddenly seems a bit more appealing now that she's isn't wondering where she'll sleep. "I'm gonna give the dance floor one more try but you know, shoot me a text or whatever when you're ready to leave?" << Not like I don't know the way, but... >> Just before she stuffs the rest of the cupcake into her mouth she adds, offhandedly, "It'd be cool to go home together."