ArchivedLogs:Crises and Crazy
| Crises and Crazy | |
|---|---|
Also, sammiches. | |
| Dramatis Personae | 2 January 2014 A lot of fuss and fret and some really horrible video editing. |
| Location
<NYC> Montagues – SoHo | |
Montagues harkens back to the day when SoHo was filled to the brim with artists, with its mismatched furniture, all plush and decorated heavily with carved wood, but remains trendy enough to keep its newer patrons by making sure that furniture is clean, in good repair and inviting. The antique tables all have been reinforced to seem less creaky. The real draw of the cafe is the smell: fresh roasted coffee mingles with perfectly steeped teas. Spices from crisp pastries mingle with the tang of clotted cream but don't overwhelm too much the scent of chalk on the menu boards. It's morning, though the breakfast rush is through, leaving Montagues largely quiet -- and a good thing, too, considering some of its earlier tension between Shane and one of the customers. Outside there's a faint flurry of snow beginning; the forecast promises quite a /bit/ of this but as yet it hasn't started to stick. Inside it's cosy and warm, a warmth Lucien is currently taking advantage of. He's seated at a corner table in an armchair, casually but neatly dressed in well-tailored dark corduroys, soft green turtleneck sweater, mug of tea three-quarters empty and gone cold in front of him and a croissant on a plate beside it, half-eaten. His attention has been pulled away from food and subsumed by his laptop; his headphones are on, making the screen currently just a somewhat boring webcam shot of Daiki speaking. There's a mild tension that he wears, visible mostly only to those who know him better, in a small tightening around his eyes, an uncharacteristically restless fidgeting of his fingers, twirling a pen between them in habit -- actually picked up from Jax, though he hasn't yet gotten quite as adept at it as the artist, occasionally having to catch it in his palm and start again. Micah steps out from the /back/ of the store, having just delivered Shane to work through the rear entrance. He stops out front to retrieve some refreshments (due to some persistent pestering by one very blue teenager) in the form of a large mocha and lemon poppyseed muffin. His work clothes (TARDIS blue polo shirt and khakis) reveal him to be on a scheduled break between morning home visit appointments. The winter gear slung over one arm (mostly a bundle of olive green puffy coat with bulging pockets and a trailing end of candy corn striped knit scarf) is on the ready for a return back to the icy-cold, snow-threatening outdoors. Hazel eyes scanning the room for a safely deserted corner table, he spots Lucien instead, his look going somewhat wistful watching the pen slide through his fingers. He walks slowly to stand beside the other man's table, sparing two fingers from his coffee cup for a half-wave. "Mornin', Lucien." His head tilts at the screen. "Dai? Oh...are these the videos?" Wiping down tables as patrons depart, Corey is dressed for the weather in a midnight blue turtleneck tucked into a pair of blue jeans, though an apron protects the lot of it from developing any additional stains. The morning rush and hours on his feet isn't lagging him any though, as he moves about the shop. Occasionally glancing out the window to see if the storm has yet started, the incoming Micah from behind is missed, at least until he speaks to his compatriot sitting at his own table. Turning, he offers a smile and a small wave of greeting to the TARDIS colored man, though offers no verbal greeting to interrupt the other man now met. Lucien's pen-spinning falters again when he's addressed, the ballpoint clatters down against his keyboard and then onto the chair, and he has to stop and dig it out from where it's started to slip into the cushion. "Micah." He glances at the screen and nods, pulling his headphones down about his neck. "He recorded this last night, in my study. I am experiencing uncharacteristically intense homicidal urges." Which probably makes his gestured invitation to an adjacent armchair /so/ very welcoming. "I admit it is hard for me to distinguish how much of that is horror and how much is the protectiveness Daiki tends to instill." His brow rumples, faintly, as he looks up, glancing between Corey and Micah when Corey waves. "A friend?" Micah's very full hands may well make the invitation more welcoming than it began. His mocha and oversized muffin settle on the table before he tosses his coat over the back of the chair and takes a seat. "Does his ability work by /video/? That's...I don't even know how that would /happen/. Ain't like he can /chemical/ at you through the screen or nothin'." The legs of his chair scrape against the floor as he scoots it in to the table, all the better to wrap his hands around his mug and steal the delicious coffee warmth for his chilled fingers. "Hm?" His eyes track Lucien's gaze over to Corey. "Oh, yes. That's a Corey. I forgot he worked here." Though this isn't terribly surprising. With recent worries he's been a little bit more neglectful of details that aren't immediate and screaming. He lifts a hand in a far more subtle wave than usual, having taken to decreasing the amount of attention he draws to himself...and particularly to others who choose to associate with him in public. "Did y'hear about Dusk?" he asks softly, eyes drawn back to his cup. At the glance towards himself from Lucien, Corey inclines his head in greeting then looks back towards Micah. The subtle wave from him causes a brow to raise as if in question, then he shakes his head to clear it from his face. Giving the two a little time first without interruption. The time is not spent idle though, and he finishes cleaning up the tables and brings a collection of dishes and cups off to be cleaned. With enough time to let there be politeness, he at last makes way over towards Micah though without much smile. "Hey, I heard some of what's been going on. I know it isn't much, but if you need any help I can give, just let me know." He offers a gentle shoulder pat of comfort though, the effort there to not bother as much. "Goodness, I hope not," Lucien murmurs, glancing back to the now-frozen image of Daiki on screen. "But if you take a drug for long enough, you often /want/ it even in its absence." His small twitch of a smile is a little dry. "/Moreso/ in its absence, really." He considers the screen thoughtfully. "Though at this point I would hardly be surprised if there were some way to affect -- mm. How /do/ you feel about Daiki? Right this very minute?" He glances upward when Corey approaches, bright green eyes skimming briefly over the man and then looking back to Micah. "Mm? Dusk?" His brows furrow, slightly; he gives his head a very small shake. "I, ah, I heard there was another arrest. Was that him? Holloway. I think I had forgotten he /had/ any other name. There's been notice put out, too, they're searching for another --" His lips curl upwards very /thinly/. "-- Member of Jackson's /terrorist/ cell. A, ah --" He has to actually go check his computer to bring up, "-- Dawson Joel Allred. Even Daiki could not tell me who they possibly are looking for by that name." "Oh. He's been datin' Shane forever. Practically lives with us a lotta the time. He's kinda...just like another one of the boys. Add-a-kid," Micah summarises with a hint of a smile. "Yeah, Holloway's Dusk. Nobody ever uses his given name because...Ryan. S'confusin' on account of the /other/ Ryan." He frowns at the additional news. "Flicker. I think. He...took off yesterday." The muscles of his jaw tighten visibly. "Assumin' they'd be comin' after 'im after they brought Dusk in. I been on the phone with disability lawyers between appointments all mornin'. Finally got a lady outta Ithaca to agree even t'/meet/ about helpin' Dusk get...transfusions. While they're holdin' 'im." The look he gives to his mocha is less than pleased, but he forces himself to drink some of it anyhow. "Oh, hi, Corey," Micah greets with a quickly-summoned small smile. "Thanks, sugar. Just...so's y'know most folks who talk t'me for very long tend t'get some snap judgements made about their mutant terrorist status by passersby these days." His hand drops back to his cup, though he soon deposits this on the table. "Um...'pologies, prob'ly oughtta. This is Lucien. How y'been? I feel like I ain't kept up with anybody like I should since...everythin' went south back October sometime." At the bits of conversation he hears, Corey is a tad concerned by the look of his face. As Micah directs words to him however, he shakes his head. "Can't say that I've been called that before, but I'll keep back if you are concerned at it being a likelihood." He frowns and lets out a sigh though. "Pretty sure they wont let me join any of normal forces anyway once I get my degree anyway, but that would definitely put a permanent no on it." With the apologies, he does snort however. "If anyone has the right to be too busy, it's you. Don't worry about me really, I..." he does pause there and shakes his head, successfully editing himself midway. Taking the selfmade pause, he looks to Lucien, and offers a hand. "Nice to meet you Lucien, and, uh, sorry if I'm interrupting." "Almost certainly a likelihood." Lucien pulls the headphones off his head, leaning over to set the laptop down on the table, next to Micah's cup and facing Micah. He reaches to set the headphones on /Micah's/ head now with a somewhat detached sort of curiosity as he restarts the video. "/Does/ it make you feel any /more/ strongly than before? I would be impressed if he worked through recordings. Though you may wish to stop the video before you get all the way through, you are likely to lose your appetite." He glances back up to Corey, returning to his previous assertation: "Not merely passersby, really. Even talking to Micah is reasonably likely at this juncture to incur some level of surveillance. His husband /does/ stand accused of the single greatest act of terrorism -- possibly in history, outside wartime. You should see the vans parked outside the Lofts. Each /so/ much more inconspicuous than the last." With this cheerful greeting, he reaches to take Corey's hand; his handshake is firm and warm and comes with a still warmer trickle of something soft and pleasurable, subtle-soft and hardly noticeable. "I could use the interruption. I was not particularly enjoying my work. -- Will he die without them?" His eyes shift back to Micah in brief pensiveness, jumping topics again without much segue. "That would be terribly disastrous for them, although somewhat beneficial to -- ah." His lips press together briefly, and /he/ edits himself though not exactly soon /enough/. "Hopefully the lawyers manage to see his needs adequately met." "Ain't that I /want/ y'to stay away. S'more...that y'deserve t'know that people are bein' pretty belligerent 'round me lately. Maybe less with you, though, y'look enough like y'could handle yourself in a fight." Micah nods to Lucien with a rueful expression. "Also, that. Government ain't shy about electronic surveillance on anybody within two degrees of separation from a suspected terrorist an'...well, I'm degree /one/, so anybody I talk to..." His nose crinkles slightly. "Used t'do petition drives an' letter writin' an' protests against exactly this kinda nonsense in college, y'know? Now it's...happenin' right in m'livin' room." At Lucien's delivery of headphones and warning, Micah sighs down at his untouched muffin. "What appetite?" Nonetheless, he stops the video and passes the headphones back after only a few sentences. "Wanna protect 'im. An' /hug/ 'im forever. Ain't like that's unusual, though." This comes with a shrug. His eyes widen at the assertions involving Dusk /dying/. "Yes. Even as transfusions...he prob'ly won't be doin' so well. 'Bout as well as Jax is likely doin' without 'em lettin' 'im have /hardly/ enough light." He grabs the muffin and tears a chunk off of it, very /determinedly/ chewing on it. "That explains it a bit. I'd visited Hanna recently, and well, kinda shitty what that place is doing to so many tenants." Frowning, he shakes his head, then smirks. "On the plus side, if they surveil me, at least they'll see how boring my life has become between work, studying, and the gym. My course kinda got disrupted from," Corey shakes his head at that, generally gesturing at the world. "but I can't really complain about any inconveniences in comparison to whats going on." Letting out a sigh, he blinks slightly at the warmth of the handshake, and smiles. "Still, nice to meet you anyway in spite of the current situation." The energy field enveloping Corey and those around him may yet be subtler still than Lucien's handshake, though the neurokinetic would likely notice the boost at even such a small level. "That at least I may be able to help with Micah, if you need transfusions. I don't think the Red Cross will be allowed to accept my blood much longer with registrations, but well, if it will help a friend of yours I will gladly still help. Though, I guess the Mendel Clinic might not mind it as much either." Shrugging, he does glance out the window, as if thinking on surveillance vans all of a sudden. "Mmm." Lucien glances at the video curiously after Micah's answer, but then simply closes the laptop, coiling the wire around the headphones and resting them atop. "The friend in question is in jail," he clarifies for Corey, "I do not think the question is one of available blood so much as their willingness to deliver it to him. There are laws about catering to the medically necessary dietary needs of inmates but -- I imagine having a vampire is a first for the federal corrections system. -- Will /Jax/ die, in absence of sufficient light?" His eyes linger a little too long on Corey, with that handshake, brows ticking upwards faintly. And then back down in comprehension at the mention of registration. He reaches to pick up his abandoned tea, but grimaces faintly at the first cold sip. "I think many people around here would be well thankful for a stretch of boring. Do you have any you could lend him?" He tips his hand to Micah in indication. "Oh/gosh/, we were s'posed t'be fightin' evictions an' lookin' for a place t'buy." Micah's palm thuds against his forehead at the memory of the /last/ crisis that got pushed aside for the more immediate and painful one. He shakes his head at the offer of transfusion help. "B'lieve me, if it were just a matter of /supply/, I'd /be there/ already. Won't let nobody visit, much less bring things in for 'em. S'a federal prison. With charges of terrorism. They don't exactly /play around/ with the people they take in." He stuffs another bite of muffin in his mouth, chewing slowly. His eyes squeeze closed briefly at the question of /Jax/ dying. "Yes. But...it's been harder t'convince 'em t'give 'im that. They were, at least, in the first prison...lettin' 'im have some bare minimum exposure. They're afraid that givin' Jax light is like /armin'/ 'im. When the trouble is that /not/ givin' 'im light is like...starvation, sleep deprivation, suffocation...all at the same time." He pulls his mug over for another sip. "He...really doesn't like the dark, either." "I'd be glad to share whatever boring I can. I think you guys could use it," Corey says with a sigh. "I wish I could be of some help, but I wouldn't know the first thing of navigating the legal system, eviction or terrorist allegations. If anyone needs a place to stay though I can lend space, I kinda don't need as much sleep really." He runs a hand through his hair trying to think more on it. "Most of the things I could think of, you probably already figured out or decided was a bad idea. Did they at least tell you Where he is? I doubt they keep anyone in the state anymore." "Jackson was transferred out of state when they opted to press terrorism charges and not murder. I -- am not," Lucien admits with a small frown, "entirely certain to where. It will take some looking into. They have a facility for mutants but, ah, for perhaps obvious reasons they have been rather tightlipped about /where/. I have heard rumours about Pennsylvania." He pulls his croissant plate into his lap, tearing off a small flaky piece. "Giving Jackson light /is/ arming him. But if he dies --" He exhales slowly, tipping his head back to look at the ceiling. "Well. We shall see. -- Have you got a lawyer for fighting the evictions, too?" "Could use some borin'. Or at least some excitin' that isn't also entirely full of /awful/." Micah picks more pieces off of the muffin, but leaves the mutilated bits sitting atop it. "We...got Jax's lawyer from the place that was offerin' help on the evictions. Guess I could always bring that up with 'em, too. It just kinda got subsumed or...sub-something. With. Everyone I know gettin' arrested one by one." The mention of Pennsylvania earns a slow nod. "That's...where we been sendin' the lawyers, anyhow. They got some kinda...mutant containment." Corey nods at the talk of the facility, then looks down at Micah's crumbled bits. "You need to keep your strength up with what you're up against. Here, I'll go make you a sandwich since apparently muffin isn't on the menu. There's gotta be something on the menu you'll actually eat." He frowns concernedly at him, then looks to Lucien for support on it. His eyes go back to Micah then with a slight smile, "You worry about others. You could use some worrying over you too." "You may want to. I know it is difficult right now to think about other concerns, but having to find new housing in the /middle/ of all this is likely the last thing you want. They can at least perhaps buy you time till your lease runs out. And with any luck, by then --" Lucien does not voice the potential hopeful outcome. He watches Micah pick at his muffin with a small frown. "Come to dinner. Bring the children." Corey's offer of sandwich draws a faint smile. "Can you lend him a little of your excess energy? You may not need much sleep, but he has not been /getting/ much." "Oh, no, the muffin's fine, honey. S'one of my favourites. I only...ended up buyin' it 'cause Shane was fussin' at me on account of I kinda did the same thing t'breakfast." Micah's expression turns a bit sheepish. "Just...ain't had no appetite lately. Been kinda nauseous most of the time b'sides. People been worryin' plenty, not t'...worry." His nose crinkles at the way that sentence turned out. "Luci, honey, y'don't have t'keep doin' that. 'Specially 'cause I'm not gonna say /no/ at havin' a place for the kids t'go. They feel out of sorts at home without Jax there an' with Homeland Security /listenin'/ t'everythin' nobody even feels free t'talk open anymore." His eyes dart back and forth between the other men, not wanting to discuss someone /else's/ abilities without permission.
Looking a little embarrassed at the talk of lending energy, Corey blushes a tad. "Erm, its kinda always like that. Just being around me is enough. Micah actually was helpful in figuring that out." He gives a nod of encouragement to Micah. "It's fine, I wont be able to hide it much longer. I'll have to register sooner than later if the law stays." He gives a little shrug, and shakes his head. "And you should take him up on his offer, or I make you a sandwich that you'll feel guilty about not eating. Your choice," he says with a smile. Lucien's brows tick upwards at Corey's blush, a look of genuine surprise briefly widening his eyes. "Oh -- is that really what you /do/? I only meant that you'd said earlier you do not need much sleep. But if you genuinely /do/ lend energy, all the better. This ordeal has been draining." A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth at Micah's demurral. "I do not have to, no. And yet I will continue to do so, so long as it continues to be helpful. Goodness knows you do not need to worry about cooking atop everything else." Micah gathers the little loose bits up into a ball and eats that. See? Eating. “I kinda promised 'Bastian I'd eat anytime somebody told me to. So, y'got anythin' with avocado? All sandwiches should have avocado.” A brief shadow crosses his features, eyes lowered before he looks back up with a smile. “Thanks, y'all...it's. Nice t'know there's still people. Even when it seems like everyone's bein' taken.” He nods at Lucien, his hand /almost/ reaching out to the other man's but then deciding against touching without Lucien initiating it, all things considered. “What time should we stop by? Can I bring anythin'?” "Well, I don't really know the specifics. But yeah, close enough to call it that. Plants grow, people get better and stuff." Corey still seems a bit embarrassed, especially with the widening eyes. Micah's acceptance of a sandwich brings distraction, and he smiles at that. "Avocado is indeed on the menu. We've been getting more regular shipments of stuff at least now that things... well, things for the rest of the city at least are calming down. Some of the stuff is a little sparse still mind you, but there is enough." Patting Micah on the shoulder again, he nods to the two. "Won't take too long, but definitely going to be warmed. You look like you could use some more warmth." And off he goes to mother hen and make the man a sammich. "Avocado is good and fattening, too," Lucien says with amused approval. "Put avocado on all his food and it might almost make up for skipped meals." He tips his chin upwards in farewell as Corey goes off to procure Food. His eyes drop to that aborted motion of Micah's hand, and he leans forward, curling his hand around Micah's with only a small press of lips at the first moment of contact. "I have work in the afternoon. Until six. Come any time after six. Do you have preferences, I get so used to restricting the menu to vegan things in other circumstances." “Thanks again, hon,” Micah says with a blush at all the fuss being directed at him. He gives another small wave as Corey heads off. “You tryin' t'say I'm too skinny?” He arches a brow at Lucien in amusement. “Thought I was talkin' t'my momma for a second there.” His fingers wrap more securely around the other man's, a small smile at the little kiss. “Just...that Spence keeps kosher an' the twins need /all/ the protein an'...not much else. Whatever works without too much bother an' your sibs'll eat, too.”
“I would be, too.” The blush deepens with that, though it comes without further comment. “Make somethin' Gaetan'll like, then.” Micah just watches the movement of Lucien's hand over his own. “Thank you. I really mean it. I don't know...what I'd be doin' without you these past few days.” He lifts Lucien's hand closer, turning it to place a kiss at the centre of his palm before closing the fingers back on it, wrapping his own fingers back around to return their hands to resting on the table. "Sleeping less," Lucien answers straightaway. "Eating poorly. I am an excellent cook; you should have crises more often. Not that," he admits easily, "your home generally /lacks/ for excellent food." His fingers curl up against the side of Micah's face at the kiss, but then drops back to the table. His eyes shift over to his laptop. "We shall be getting the first of the videos out shortly. Sebastian's --" His eyes slip half-closed, hand tightening in Micah's. "Well. It explains a good deal." “Didn't mean just that. Meant...the videos an' tellin' me what t'do an' just...keepin' me from losin' my /mind/ over all this. You been like...my solid ground with everythin' else just fallin' apart an' I don't know how I'll ever be able t'really thank you.” Micah blinks a little harder and faster than usual for a moment, reaching for his coffee mug to take a long drink. “Y'don't have t'wait for a crisis t'have us around, y'know.” He manages a small smile before nodding at the report on 'Bastian's video. “Those boys...been through a horrible lot.” Lucien gives a small twitch of his lips. "I am disinclined to company in most non-crisis situations. My brother tended to /make/ a social life for me." He gives Micah's hand another squeeze, finally pulling his away to pull the laptop back into his lap. "Indeed. For all they are -- somewhat broken, I am rather surprised they turned out /as/ together as they are. Most in their position --" He exhales sharply. "All these videos are horrible, though. Though I suppose horrible is what we /want/." He grimaces at the screen as he looks back to the video he'd paused. "-- I never stopped to imagine how ugly having everyone want you could get." “Guess there's some small thing t'be said for crises, then.” With both of his hands back, Micah resumes his slow dismantling and slower eating of the muffin. “It /is/ all horrible. It's...why alla this /happened/ in the first place. Sometimes there's only so much /horrible/ y'can just let happen before y'have t'do somethin' about it, no matter how...crazy.” He nods, wincing at Lucien's summary of Dai's story. Lucien exhales a slow breath, a faint upward twitch toying with his lips before deciding against resolving into a smile. "Crazy. Indeed. Your family is not short on /that/, either. Though neither is the world, I suppose. I am not sure sanity is something to strive for when the world itself is upside down." “Don't guess so,” Micah agrees, just continuing to force himself to finish the muffin and mocha. | |
