Logs:The Straight Dope
| The Straight Dope | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2023-03-14 Where did we go wrong. |
| Location
<NYC> Detention Facility - Jax's Suite - S.H.I.E.L.D. HQ - Times Square | |
A bit larger than the other detainee's rooms, this one has been converted from a small corner lounge for the guest rooms. Tall windows with a southern exposure let in copious sunlight if the unnecessarily high-tech curtains are drawn. The sitting area is small but comfortable and the sleeping area beyond it is screened off with interior partitions. There's a bulky desk in one corner with a computer rigged up nicely for video calls and a kitchenette tucked into another. A video comm panel by the front door allows for quick communication with both in-person visitors just outside the door or the security staff down the hall. The room decorations have been proliferating wildly -- the bed is now home to a menagerie of stuffed animals, mostly all Very New except for one old much-loved Cheer Bear perched atop the pillow. Greenery spills over from pots by the window ledge and hanging baskets. Art in numerous people's varied styles has been hung on the walls, with numerous of Jax's own sketches -- portraits of friends mingling with anthro characters and surreal cityscapes, a large drawing of a stained glass window bearing an image of Apollo done in traditional church-window style -- tacked up on the desk. A number of stained-glass hangings refract colorful light in from the expansive windows. The many (many) lamps in the room are shining bright. There's music playing loud from the computer -- Daniel Kahn's "Freedom is a Verb" on repeat. Dressed in a vivid green tee reading in bold pink letters, "NOT GAY AS IN HAPPY, QUEER AS IN FUCK THE POLICE" under very old and paint-splattered overalls, Jax is in front of his easel, plastic palette balanced on his right hand and his paintbrush held in his left. The painting on his canvas has come quite a ways, now, a tree vivid and otherworldly as is often his bent -- this one flinging a thick shelter of branches farflung overhead, spreading a complex system of roots far below; there are faces that seem to be blooming out of flowers from the branches, developing figures with skin brown and barky woven seamless into the trunk and roots like dryads nourishing-and-nourished-by the huge tree. Where there was no Spence before -- -- now there is Spence. He's wearing a gray-and-black striped long-sleeve shirt under a lavender t-shirt with a twist of rainbow DNA splashed across the front, bracketed by the words 'B'tzelem Elohim' in Hebrew, blue jeans, and gray sneakers, his kippah adorned with a smiling sun. The travel mug clasped in both his hands smells richly of coffee. He'd started to draw breath to speak, but then seems to register what his father is doing and just. Holds the breath. There's a startled flutter throughout the room when Spence arrives -- a tangle of roots spreading underfoot, long gnarled branches creeping across the ceiling with green faces peering out of their leaves. The illusions begin to recede almost as soon as they've grown -- as the color melts from around the room it seems to get absorbed into Jax, dark hair blossoming into a vivid peacocky ombre, splashes of glimmering eyeshadow on his eyes and chrome polish on his nails -- all the starker against the extreme pallor of his skin. It's a moment even longer before he lowers his brush, peering critically at the canvas. Whatever dissatisfaction he has there has vanished from his face, replaced with a small but warm smile when he looks at Spencer. "Breathe, honey-honey." Spence breathes. "Sorry Pa," he mumbles, "I should have texted." He holds out the mug, a peace offering, though his attention has already moved on to Jax's work in progress, his imagination trying to superimpose Kieow onto the tree on the canvas. "I can come back..." He's sure he's just going to lose his nerve if he comes back another time. But then, he's growing increasingly sure he's going to lose his nerve right now. << He's got enough stress shouldn't stress him out more aaaaah >> The images that accompany << enough stress >> are decidedly of Ryan, in various stages of lucidity and steadiness. He's not quite done fretting about Ryan when by a series of ADHD associations too fast to follow he arrives at "I jumped with people!" The plural there is proud and faintly giddy, described in rapid flashes of a burnt out building, a half-collapsed roof frozen in time, Spence blipping the injured people out, then going back for Beau and Brendan, his simultaneous thrill and grief at << this was what Flicker did >>. "Oh, that painting ain't going nowhere," Jackson assures Spence, carefully setting his palette aside and swapping for the mug instead. He takes a large swig of the coffee as he moves to clean his brush -- though gets distracted halfway to the sink by Spence's revelation. His expression has lit up when he turns back around, eye wider. "Spence! Oh, gosh, that's amazing, who -- what -- why --" His lips clamp together tight, but only for a second. "-- I knowed you'd get there, I'm so proud. When'd this happen?" "Like, last week?" Spencer is squinting into the middle distance as his mind tries to process the amount of time that elapsed, not with calendars but a disjointed flip of fragmentary recollections. "The week before that? After it snowed, anyway!" He bounces on the balls of his feet, beaming with satisfaction at Jax's expression of pride. Even so, he gets ready to explain how he'd wanted to say earlier but was worried Jax would worry about him Being a Superhero and actually is still worried enough he hadn't meant to say anything, except that now it's way less scary than the other thing he was planning to tell Jax. But he manages to intercept himself at "I wanted to say earlier but I didn't want you to worry. Like. It was dangerous!" << How is this better?! (but he's proud) He can definitely be worried and proud >> He stops. Mentally reviews one of the many scripts he'd thought up for describing this event. Takes a deep breath. Tries again. "Okay so. This building had caught fire and it got put out but the fire department didn't even try to rescue this mutant family. And the M-Kids -- you've heard about those folks right -- the M-Kids came to the school to get me and Beau to help with the evacuating. One them had literally paused time, and Beau lifted up half the like...literal roof, and I had to get the injured people out of there as fast as I could right and I knew I could do it, I'd practiced so much, so I just." He pauses. It's possibly the longest pause he's taken this entire visit. "I just went. And then I had to go right back and get Beau and Brenden and then back down." He sounds kind of winded just recounting it. "But I did it and nobody died and everybody was in one piece." Jax's eye goes just a little wider as he listens to this. He turns aside to start cleaning the paint out of his brush, kind of absently wiping the bristles against the soap cupped in his palm. If incidentally this turns his expression away from Spence for a time, well. He's shifted back into a gentle warmth by the time he's rinsed the brush again and turned back around. "Sounds like you done a real good thing for those people, Spence. Brave, too. I'm mighty glad you was there to help. Sure wish none of y'all had to be in a situation like that but --" He shakes his head quickly. "I always did expect when the time come, when someone needed it, you'd step up. An' you been working for so long to know your limits -- I'm proud of that, too, you know." His teeth catch against his lip ring, wiggling at it slowly. "Them M-Kids, they..." His brow wrinkles momentarily. "They careful, with what they doing? Safe?" The wrinkle is growing deeper. "They got anyone lookin' after 'em?" Spence bites his lower lip. Bounces harder, more agitated now. << Oh no he's freaked out I shouldn't have told him all that >> Which doesn't dim the warm that blooms in him at the praise. "That's the first time I actually met the M-Kids so I dunno like. There's a lot of rumors at school but they're rumors, you know?" He shrugs tightly, then hastily adds, "Mostly it's like, little things. Not really dangerous at all. Some of it is dangerous. I didn't have any time to talk with them cuz they had to get the injured people to a hospital, but I don't think they got like. Adult supervision or anything. They seemed pretty unimpressed with adults." He blushes slightly, reflecting on his many adult friendships. << Just one more way to be weird and uncool but who's counting >> "I guess. Most kids are. I wanna talk to them sometime when there isn't an emergency, but I don't know what to even tell them like. What they're doing, it's good." << We should be doing stuff like that. >> He's not worried about what the administration will think, but he is imagining the look on Xavier's face when he finds out with amusement. "S'fair enough, I know there's a real tragic number of adults who ain't done much in life to earn no trust from young people. But I feel like then it's a case of needing to find the right ones, not --" Jax hesitates, biting down on his lip as he hangs his brush to dry and washes his hands clean. "It do sound like they're doing a lot of good," he agrees, wandering back over to offer Spence the coffee mug as he takes his seat on the painting stool that he rarely seems to actually sit in while painting. "I ain't sayin' you should be talking 'em out of it or nothing -- Lord knows our community can use good folks looking out for each other. I just want them to know that there are folks out there who been doing this kind of thing a long while -- and being able to have folks you can turn to for advice, or if something goes real wrong -- that can be important, you know?" There's just a faint tremor in the air around him, a brief greyish flutter of shadow that soon evens out. "Trying to build that kind of operation from the ground up without no guidance -- it can just. Be a real rough path to go, you know?" His voice is softer, here, his fingers curling down tight against his knee. The worry hasn't quite cleared from his face when he looks back to Spence, but his smile is returning. "I'm sorry, sugar, I coulda stopped at 'I'm proud of you'. I really am. There's always gonna be a balance in life -- tryna keep yourself safe while doing what you can to help folks around you. I feel like it's a balance we're all constantly tryna work out." Spence nods, rapidly and emphatically. "Yeah! Yeah, I know you wouldn't -- I mean -- know what you mean." << (I want to help) (not fair to ask him) (raids are even happening) >> He takes a deep breath and takes the coffee back, his fingers fluttering over its smooth finish. "They did say you were cool but I can't exactly send them here for advice. Can I? They may not want to talk to you I guess but also probably I shouldn't just like volunteer you to solve every mutant kid's problems." He shuffles over and leans on his father. "And I had kind of meant to come here for advice. Sorta. Or maybe just like, tell you something." << ohnoohno >> "But it can totally wait if that was like. A lot to process." "I... don't think them coming here is, uh, technically against the rules," Jax doesn't sound very sure, "but 'go talk to some strange terrorist in ultra-mutant-jail' is probably a real hard sell." He sits up straighter on his stool, brows hiking with interest. "For you though I am chock-full of advice. Uh, probably. What's it you needed to say?" "I mean, come on. You are the awesomest terrorist in ultra-mutant-jail, and they're teenage mutant superheroes." Spence explains, very earnestly. "And they have to know how the government sees mutant superheroes. If they don't want your advice, that's their loss." He's vaguely thinking up ways to backpedal out of asking for advice, now. But he doesn't want to lie, either. Maybe some kind of distraction... << Oh no this is so dumb why did I even want to tell him -- >> "I'm straight," he blurts. Then, almost a full beat later. "I think." All thoughts of the M-Kids have quite clearly flown Jax's mind. Whatever revelation he had been expecting, it was evidently not this. He blinks -- blinks again, for a moment just frozen in place on his stool. "You -- think?" Probably shouldn't sound hopeful, but it does. Immediately afterwards Jax is flushing, deep, lifting a hand to scrub at his face as if to scrub the redness away. "No, I mean -- I mean, that's -- thank you for --" His brows are scrunching, slowly. "-- Spence, is that stressin' you out? Being, um. Li--" He catches himself with a deeper blush and corrects to simply, "-- being straight?" "I mean. Yeah I've been suspecting it for a long time and I keep thinking maybe if I just try to --" Spencer stops mid-sentence and turns fiercely red. "Not like -- I don't mean try -- I'm not having sex. With anyone! Of any gender!" << If I were maybe I wouldn't feel so silly because there would actually be something to talk about? >> "But I don't think I'm ace and I've had this crush on a girl and I guess that's not stressful because she's a girl, exactly, but also like I shouldn't be stressed!" He starts pacing. "Most people are straight, right? Society caters to straight people! I should just say a bracha that I got Easy Mode for sex. And stuff." "I don't think there's no should about it, sugar." Jax's leg is bouncing, now, rapid and quick against the rung of his stool. "Most people's straight but you don't really hang out with most people an' it makes sense to -- but honey-honey, I promise ain't Ryan an' I gonna kick you out or send you to no turn-gay camp or sneakily try to bring guys home to set you up with. 'sides, don't worry, you might be straight but I gotta tell you," here his mouth is twitching just a bit upward, "you're still a whole entire weirdo an' I can think of at least three different ways society's gonna think so too." Spence flushes even deeper. "I know, I know I'm not worried about being kicked out." He really isn't. Faith in his family aside, he has no shortage of resources and support even if Ryan and Jax did somehow decide they couldn't have a straight boy under their roof. "I don't know. It just feels weird and I kind of always figured I would be..." His mouth pulls hard to one side. "...like my family. Oh no this is just like when I wanted to grow up blue and sharky." << Is it just like that?? >> He scrubs one hand over his face and takes a gulp of the coffee he's holding. Then frowns at it. "Hey, I brought this for you!" He offers the coffee back. "Sorry I freaked. I think maybe this wouldn't feel as overwhelming if I didn't have a massive crush on Gae's girlfriend." "Oh, no, sugar, you been straight for like five minutes an' you already speedrunning the dating drama?" Jax takes the coffee back for a large gulp. His nose crinkles up and he scrubs at his face again, this time with the back of the knuckles curled around the travel mug. "I'm sorry, sugar, that's a tough break. You got some time? I can't fix that particular conundrum but I can bake you some cookies about it an' we could watch something distracting? Think the new season of Shadow and Bone's just out." "I don't think it counts as dating drama if I don't do anything about it." Spence is definitely trying to convince himself. "Or like. Tell anyone about it." << (oops) >> "Okay, tell anyone else about it. Point is she's off limits. I just have to play it cool, now that we're kinda talking again oh no I should ask to hang out!" Inwardly he's already dreading how awkward he's likely to be, but also looking forward to it. He's easily and willingly steered away from these concerns, though. "Whoa cookies and YA fantasy is literally exactly what I need right now. My straight drama's got nothing on Alina's. Thanks Pa you're the best!" He wraps Jax in a tight hug and -- The room is abruptly uninhabited, neither father nor son anywhere to be seen. But from beyond the door and down the hall in direction of the kitchen, there comes a distant whoop of joy and triumph. --- Much, much later that night, on Signal:
Answer comes almost immediately:
This time, Ryan's answer is slower in coming.
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