ArchivedLogs:Family Ties
| Family Ties | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2013-09-29 Luke and his mom Esther invite Heroes for Hire and Alison over for lunch. |
| Location
Esther Cage's house | |
This day was a long time coming, but it’s finally here. Luke’s mother, Esther Cage, still lives in the Harlem brownstone Luke grew up in. It’s paid off now of course, and he makes sure she never has to scramble to pay the bills anymore, but she really didn’t want to leave when he offered to buy her a new place. She knows everyone on this street - literally, everyone. In every house. And the regular homeless. And the mailman. And the papergirl. And just about everyone else who has a beat on this street, including the boys in blue who swing through this part of the neighborhood once in awhile. As each person arrives and is introduced, Esther insists that everyone around here usually just calls her ‘Mom’ and it’s fine if any friends of Luke’s would like to do the same. She’s a fairly imposing woman, tall, though not particularly heavy, and it’s pretty easy to connect this woman to the one in a few of the pictures around the house of a younger woman playing college basketball. She must have been on the leading edge of Title-Nine in her day. Though more imposing than her size, is her bearing. She smiles, is warm, but every suggestion is much more compelling than it should be, just by her force of personality. There’s no mind control at work here, nor hormones, pheromones, or any other ‘mones. She’s just, ‘Mama Cage’. All heart. Upon entering, the house is warm on the chilly fall day, and smells of cooking meat. The foyer presents one with stairs going straight up, a hallway running past the stairs on the right, at the end of which is the kitchen. Directly to the right of the entrance is a doorway leading into the parlour / living room. In the living room is a large couch and several easy chairs - plenty of room for everyone. On the big flatscreen in the corner the New York Jets are playing football in HD. It would be reasonable to assume Luke insisted on upgrading her TV, because she doesn’t seem like the type to worry about it. Attached to the living room is the dining room, with a long dark wood table with eight chairs around it. From here, one can get into the kitchen, and back to the hallway of course, making this floor of the house into a square donut. The house is hardwood throughout, with runners and throw-rugs placed strategically. Perhaps more interesting though, are the many, many pictures lining Mom’s walls, showing the various stages of a Luke Cage growing up. We all know why there’s a big gap between 17-year old Luke and now, but the toddler, prepubescent, and teenage years are all here on display. Mom is in the kitchen working away, and emerges to make brief hellos before generally shooing everyone off to watch football. The only exception seems to be that Janice has been allowed to help out in the kitchen. The two women seem to have hit it off right away, and they mutter to each other contentedly as they work on the big lunch. Luke opens the door and holds it for Alison. When they get inside he hangs their coats up on the hooks by the door, and leads the way down the hall to the kitchen. His eyebrows pop up when he sees Janice already here and helping in the kitchen. He’s genuinely stunned, but then its time to hug his mother. “Hey mom, good to see you. It smells /good/ in here.” He kisses her on the cheek as well, and then stands back to make room for Alison to come closer as well. “So… this is Alison. Alison - my mom, Esther.” Esther gives Luke a Look (tm) and then shakes her head. “Everyone around her calls me ‘mom’ dear. You feel free to do the same. It’s so nice to /finally/ meet you.” And she goes in for a big hug, heedless of what Alison’s preferences may or may not be. Alison looks as good as she ever does when she eases through the door ahead of Luke. In a ivory sweater and snug black pants tucked into shiny black knee-high boots, she looks like she’s going to a fancy restaurant instead of meeting her boyfriend’s mother. Only empaths or those looking extremely closely would catch the air of weariness and strain that she masks with just the /smallest/ of light shows. Weary or not, though, she’s a hugger, and accepts Esther’s embrace with a wide smile. “Oh, gosh, I could never call you ‘Mom’,” she says with a little laugh. “I’d rather call you Esther, and that way our friendship will never be awkward.” Which seems like exactly an awkward sort of thing to say, and she steps back from the hug with just the smallest of blushes. “I’ve wanted to meet you, too,” she offers as she turns to take in the living room. “You’re probably Luke’s most favorite person in all the world.” Out on the street, day and night meet. Day comes in the form of Mel, dressed in jeans and a Jets jersey that /barely/ fits his massive frame, and reveals that most of his bulk is, in fact, hard muscle. In one massive palm, he carries a covered dish, wrapped in a thermal wrap. Night comes in the form of Trib, scowling and not looking terribly happy about this little get-together. Dressed in jeans and a /Giants/ jersey that fits him somewhat better than Mel’s does him, the boxer meets the bodyguard at the base of the steps leading up to Esther’s door. “...the fuck /you/ doing here?” he growls at Mel, eyeing the dish in his hand. “Fuck. Was we supposed to bring somethin’?” Mel grunts a laugh, shaking his head. “Man, I was /invited/. Ali told me I was welcome, if I didn’t have plans. And I don’t. So suck it up, Mary.” His eyes crinkle. “If memory serves, you’re pretty good at that, aren’t you?” Trib’s eyes narrow, and his jaw sets. “Stow that shit, okay? I don’t need anyone knowing my business. Especially today.” The bodyguard laughs, heading up the steps. “Suit yourself.” Then he’s lifting his fist to thump on the door, grinning as Trib joins him oh-so-slowly and offers him a glare that could probably cut steel. Then /Trib/ reaches out, and knocks as well. Esther wave’s Alison’s compliments aside and says with a smile, “Oh sure, Ms. Silver Tongue, ‘Esther’ is fine too.” She waves in the direction of the living room and makes tut-tut noises. “Now go watch the football. Lunch will be soon.” Janice avoids eye contact, probably hoping no one notices her sardonic smile. Luke is leading the way back down the hall toward the living room, and coincidentally the front door, when Mel and Trib knock. He stops to open it, and smiles at the men there. “Hey Mel,” he says with a big smile. “Thanks for coming.” He shakes the big man’s hand, and lets him in, pointing at the kitchen for where to drop off the thing he brought. Luke nods at Trib then too. He shakes his hand and pulls the man into a rough hug. He says quietly, while they’re close, “I’m glad you could make it. Thanks.” He stands back and lets him come all the way in before closing the door behind. “I told her about Bones. Is he coming late-” Cage is cut off by his mother. She is making her way down the hallway, already having offered Mel a brief hug, but she is making a /beeline/ for Trib. “/Honey/ it is /so/ nice to meet you. He only talks about her, more than he talks about you.” She shoulders Luke out of the way and pulls Trib into another hug, like it or not. She steps back, glancing into the living room, and out the long window next to the door. “What? Where’s your boyfriend? I made a /lot/ a food for all you boys, and the /football/ is on. Ali and Jan and me are outnumbered, but that’s ok ‘cause I’m an old battleaxe, Jan is tough as nails and Ali got this boy wrapped around her little finger. I see it already.” She pats Luke’s chest when he tries to interject, and adds, “Shh, boy. You know it’s true.” She turns back, looking for Trib’s reply. It is at this point that Trib’s phone will signal that he has received - a text message!
Mel is all smiles when the door opens, clasping Luke’s hand warmly. “Hey,” he says, holding up the dish. “I made a thing. Baked beans.” He nods as Cage indicates the kitchen, heading that way with a small wave for Alison, who’s drifted uncertainly into the living room as directed. A moment later, his deep rumble can be heard in the kitchen, mixing with Janice’s distinct accent and followed by laughter from both of them. Trib is /not/ smiling when the door opens, watching Mel with narrowed gaze before the big man disappears into the kitchen. Only then does he accept Cage’s hand, and allows himself to be pulled into the bro-hug with only the smallest of growls. “...the /fuck/, man?” he mutters in response to Cage’s greeting. “It’s like a fuckin’ /party/.” Which might make it of the Devil, judging by his tone. When Esther body-checks Luke out of the way, the boxer actually takes a half-step back, his eyes widening briefly as the woman pushes into his personal space. When she mentions how often he’s talked about, his eyes narrow at the older man, and he inhales as if to speak. But then there is hugging, and any speaking breaths are squeezed out of him. His brow /clenches/ for a moment as he steps back, and the smile he forces to his lips almost seems warm. Almost. “Ma’am,” he says slowly, the words grinding from his chest. “It’s nice to meet you.” As she goes on about who’s there, he lifts his eyebrows, glancing around the room. “Bones ain’t here?” he asks, his brow lowering in concern. Or maybe it’s panic. “He was supposed to meet me here.” But the beep of his phone answers that, and he wrinkles his nose as he fishes it out and checks the screen. “Missed the train,” he says, GLARING at the screen as he moves into the living room, jabbing the index finger of his half-hand at the tiny keyboard in slow response.
When Esther pulls back from the hug, she puts her hands on Trib’s shoulders and looks him over a moment. “Hm,” is her only comment. Approval, disapproval, hard to tell. “Don’t you ma’am me, young man. It’s ‘Mom’, or Esther. One or the other.” She pats him on the chest as well, and trundles off back to the kitchen, to chat with Janice and Mel. Luke glances into the living room to check on Alison, and then faces Trib again, leaning on the doorjamb, effectively blocking Trib’s retreat to the living room. “Hey, are you ok, man? I know she comes on strong. I shoulda warned you.” Luke seems genuinely baffled as to the full range Trib’s response. “I mean, you know when you go to someone’s house for lunch, there might be /people/ there right? I just figured… I mean, the only person you don’t know here is mom, and well, now you /do/ know her.” Cage glances down the hallway again, and then removes his arm from the doorway to fold across his chest. “Plus, I figured you’d come with Bones, so. Yeah.” Cage shrugs, out of words.
Soon after sending his reply text, possibly even before Trib receives the message, a series of rapidfire knocks are hammered on the front door; it almost sounds like the person on the other side is running from something. The knocking does stop eventually, and whoever answers the door will find Toru with a sheepish expression, holding a flat pink box. Trib looks a bit baffled at Esther’s reaction, and even more so when Cage blocks his entrance to the living room. The question gets a shake of the boxer’s head, and his expression lightens, a bit. “Naw, man,” he says in a gruff rumble. “It’s just...I ain’t good with this kind of shit. Being /social/ and stuff.” He shifts his weight, and looks over Cage’s shoulder at Alison as she examines the family pictures with a half-smile. It’s unclear if she’s listening in or not, so he returns his amber gaze to Luke. “I was hopin’ fuckin’ Bones would be here to…” he rolls his shoulders. “I don’t fuckin’ know. Make me feel more comfortable or somethin’.” His expression hardens almost as soon as the confession leaves his mouth, and it’s only the frantic knocking that interrupts his sudden tension. He moves to the door before Cage can, and jerks it open with a GLARE. “It’s about fuckin’ time!” he barks at the teenager on the step. “I’m gettin’ you a fuckin’ /watch/ and a goddamned train schedule for fuckin’ Christmas.” Alison takes advantage of the door distraction to move to Luke’s back, touching him on the shoulder gently. “Sweetie, calm down,” she says softly. “Let everyone ease into this.” So she was listening. Her eyes widen at the sudden outburst from Trib, and she laughs merrily before she slaps her hand over her mouth. Luke’s expression, on the other hand, /softens/ when Trib makes his reveal. He offers an apologetic and understanding smile, shrugs, and then his eyebrows pop up, inviting Trib to answer the door, which he is already doing anyway. He reaches up and takes Alison’s hand in his, wrapping her into his side with his arm across her shoulders. “Yeah, you’re right. Thank-” Luke is cut off. “LUKE,” Esther calls from the kitchen. “IS THAT BONES?” She really doesn’t need to shout anyway, but she’s also halfway down the hall by the end of the question. Apparently she is used to using the nicknames of neighborhood kids, and the pseudonym doesn’t trip her up. “Well, come in, come in boy!” Esther says with a broad smile. She is patting flour off her hands and onto her apron that wasn’t there a minute ago, it seems she really enjoys cooking for big groups. She brushes as much flour off as she can, but this does not deter her from wrapping the tiny Toru in an enormous hug. There will be flour though. Oh yes. There will be flour. “Ok, well I told your boy already, Bones, you call me ‘Mom’ or Esther, but there ain’t no ‘Mrs. Cage’ livin’ here, and there ain’t no ‘ma’am’s in the building either, ok?” She turns to her son. “Luke, you’ll show everyone around, won’t you? Got a bunch left to do in the kitchen.” And she’s trundling off back in that direction again. Today's Toru is dressed for chilly weather, in jeans and a thin, blue-and-navy striped hoodie over his Taco Night '97 t-shirt. Hair isn't quite /brushed/, but it is a bit more well-kempt than usual; he put in a little effort to look nice, in other words, but didn't make it all the way there. "Good to see you too, Fish," is his casual reply to Trib's barking. "Is this gonna be another one-a those things where you're all pissy 'cause you gotta talk to people?" He's stepping into the house, finding a table to set those donuts down, when he's suddenly attacked by /surprise hug/, and his face takes on a very distinct rabbit-in-the-headlights look for a moment, mouth hanging juuuust slightly open. "I, uh, er-- right." Once the hug is broken he kind of stands there for a moment, looking a bit shell-shocked, before looking up at Trib again. "...Y'know, this whole bein' the smallest guy in the room thing is startin' to get a little weird." And the box is gestured to, apropos of nothing. "I, uh, I made donuts. ... Well, I bought donuts. I made the money that bought the donuts." Pause. "There's donuts. I, er, wasn't sure if we were supposed to bring anything. They're just glazed 'cause y'know, different flavors and didn't know.. anyway. Donuts." And, in a lower voice, "I'm making you buy me one of those thirty-dollar cakes after this, I swear to God."
He brushes flour from Toru absently (if a bit /fussily/) as he jabs a finger in the direction of Cage. “That’s Alison,” he grunts. “She’s famous. Was in that movie we watched last week. Killers Who Crept.” He points down the hall. “Sharpe’s in the kitchen, along with Janice.” Introductions made, he then wraps an arm around the younger man’s neck, pulling him into his side and leaning to murmur softly in his ear. “You fuckin’ get me through this, an’ I’ll give you more than fuckin’ cake.” Alison’s hand is warm as it wraps (as much as it can) around Cage’s. “You can call me Ali,” she says brightly, tossing her hair over her shoulder and offering a smile that comes with its own wattage.. “It’s nice to meet you, Bones. Luke’s told me a /little/ about you, but not much.” This comes with a mildly reproachful look for the detective before she’s back to the teenager. “Oooh, donuts are wonderful,” she says. “Nobody says no to donuts.” “To be fair,” Mel offers, appearing in the hallway and pretty much walling it off with his bulk. “Anything Cage knows probably came from Jones, and he’s a fu --” he breaks off, wincing in Esther’s direction. “Uh. Friggin’ sphinx. You can’t get anything out of him.” He grins widely at Trib, who looks a bit glowery on his return, and holds out a massive hand to Toru. “I’m Mel,” he says. “I work for Ali.” “Cause he fuckin’ sucks at boxin’,” Trib explains helpfully, /without/ the wince for Mama Cage and her possible sensitivities. “Sharpe’s a pussy in the ring. Got a fuckin’ glass jaw.” Mel holds up his hands, and shrugs. “We can’t all be punching bags.” Cage winces on Trib’s behalf, looking over his shoulder from long years of instinct training. Call it respect or fear, however it’s titled, Luke is constantly aware of his mother and her potential reactions. He tries to play it off though, and gestures to the living room. “Hey, how about we take the donuts in and watch some of the game?” “-don’t spoil your lunch-” comes the distant command from the kitchen, but Luke leads the way anyway. He nudges the wide coffee table as he goes by as a possible landing zone for donuts, and claims the two-seater for Alison and himself. That leaves the full-size couch, and several recliners, total comfy seating for eight. Luke starts to sit, and then remembers something. “Oh yeah, anyone want coffee, or tea, or beer, or whatever? She’s got every damn thing back there.” He grins, and keeps standing to play waiter. Toru just sort of nods a little dumbly at all the names being mentioned, keeping mental tally and giving little waves to anyone who is actually in the room when they're mentioned. Trib's last remark, though, gets an oddly blank smile and a sotto voce murmur: "We're behaving, remember." When Alison speaks up, his smile warms up a little, and one hand is brought up to run over his hair. "Well, I don't really do much hangin' out with 'im for 'im to say much, but if he's keepin' you around maybe I oughtta remedy that." Oh yeah, he's oozing charm. Didn't he just say something about behaving? Of course, he doesn't get much further before Mel's showing up, and the offered hand is accepted by Toru's wee tiny one. SO SMALL. "Trib's just a private kinda guy, I mean shit I only just got his phone number outta him like yesterday, we been usin' pigeons up to now--" he's starting to stammer in a distinctly nervous-sounding cadence as he shakes hands, and so when Cage suggests donuts as he's retrieving that limb, the teen all but yelps, "Yeah, sitting, that's-- good yeah let's. Do that." Donut box grabbed in one hand, he grabs Trib with the other, dragging the boxer to the living room where he sets the box on the coffee table, opening it up to grab a donut before leaning against the arm of one of the recliners, gesturing for Trib to take the seat. "...I could use a beer." Trib grunts something that sounds laugh-like at Toru’s attempt at smooth-talking Alison, and the brief clench of his eyebrows might be to hide the small roll of his eyes. He lifts a shoulder that might be apologetic to Cage as he allows himself to be led in the small procession to the living room. He settles into the chosen recliner with a thump, shifting his shoulders to rest against Toru. “Tomato juice, if she’s got it,” he rumbles at Cage. “With a couple of shots of the hottest hot sauce she’s got.” Toru’s drink choice gets a small tightening of the big man’s mouth, but he only nods once. Alison settles herself on the two-seater with another bright smile for Toru. “So, what do you do, Bones?” she asks, tipping her head and giving the teenager a studious look. “Are you a student, or one of those bohemian artist types?” Her gaze slips to Trib thoughtfully, and her lips curl in a small smile. “Though I’m guessing the latter isn’t probably true, based on what I know about Mister Jones, here.” She fairly beams up at Luke when he asks for drink orders. “I would love a bottled water,” she says warmly. “Thank you.” Then it’s back to Toru. “How did you and Trib meet? You guys are awfully cute together.” Trib makes a growly noise, and mutters something in which only the words ‘fuck’ and ‘cute’ are audible. He narrows his eyes at Alison for a moment, but the movement of Mel sitting gently on the larger of the recliners shifts his attention elsewhere. “Yeah,” the bodyguard echoes, leaning in to grin first at Toru, then at Trib. “You totally don’t seem like Jones’ type. How’d /that/ happen?” More glaring from Trib, only this time he’s not afraid to direct it at Mel. Who only grins more widely in response. “Sure man,” Luke says about Trib’s drink. “I’ll see what she’s got back there. I don’t know how you can drink that stuff, but she loves it too.” He shakes his head ruefully, and adds, “Ali, I don’t think she’s got bottles, but she’s got a good filter.” Luke raises an eyebrow at Mel’s needling of Trib, and gives the big man an ‘ease up a little’ expression. “You need a cranberry juice or something, big guy? What’s got you all wound up?” He nods at Toru’s request, and disappears into the kitchen. He returns a minute later with Toru’s beer, one for himself, and Alison’s water. He pops the caps off with his thumb, pocketing them, and hands Ali her water. Right behind him is Esther with Mel’s water (not cranberry juice) and Trib’s tomato, and a little bottle of Tabasco brand hot sauce. “I never tried it with the hot sauce before,” she says, curious. “Where’d you pick that up?” Drink are handed out, and Janice even wanders in with two glasses of white wine. Once Esther drops off her deliveries, she takes one of the glasses from Janice and clinks with the woman. Esther announces, “Well, the meat should be ready in about twenty minutes. How’re we all doing in here?” Luke settles into the couch next to Alison, but does not look particularly relaxed. His back his straight, and he’s attentive to everything going on, but especially to what his mother has to say. Esther remains hovering in the door to the hallway, and Janice guards the door to the dining room. "Bohemian..?" Toru frowns a little at that, before managing a perhaps too-wide grin. "N--Naw, I'm, uh, whatchacallit. A courier. Kinda." He laughs at his answer as though sharing a private joke, but it sounds more nervous than anything else, and takes almost visible effort to stop. The last remark does prompt a /somewhat/ more genuine smile from the teen, though, and he lifts a leg up to sit on the chair arm, leaning against Trib a bit awkwardly, and nudging the boxer. "Aw, see, we're cute. What do I keep tellin' ya?" But the actual /question/ prompts another awkward series of noises. "There.. was a whole big thing. It's... it's kind of a long story." It is at this point that he remembers he's still holding that donut, and he proceeds to shove it into his mouth without much dignity, giving himself a minute to collect his thoughts. Fortunately, it is at this point that Cage arrives with that beer, and Toru grabs for it like a drowning man, taking a long chug to wash down that pastry with. If nothing else this does, at least, seem to help him settle down a little bit. Mel's question is finally answered, though, with some slow deliberation. "Well, seein' as how /he/ asked /me/ out, on accounta my charm and all, I never figured-- that is to say, what's his /type/, huh?" There is a hint of an /edge/ to the question, as he glances from Mel to Trib and back; Toru may be the smallest dog in the room, but that apparently doesn't stop him from barking at the bigger ones. “Oh, Mel’s awful, sometimes,” Alison says, a sentiment that seems to be confirmed by the bodyguard’s cheeky wink for Cage as he takes the glass of water from Esther. “He’s always teasing Anton, and trying to freak him out.” She nods, and takes her own glass of water, beaming up at Luke. “He’s harmless, though.” Toru gets a long, thoughtful look after his half-hearted explanation, and then the blonde shakes her head. “I hope it’s a /good/ story, at least,” she says with a bit of sparkle in her smile. Like, actual sparkle. “People are suckers for a good romantic beginning.” Mel holds his hands up at both the admonishment, and Toru’s response. “Hey, I’m just making conversation,” he says, sipping at his water. “You just don’t look like the kind of guy that Trib was runnin’ with last year.” His eyebrows hitch in sync with his shoulders. “That’s all I meant. There’s nothing that says a guy can’t change his tastes.” The edge in Toru’s voice elicits a smug sort of smile from Trib, if that slight lift at one corner can be called a /smile/. He takes the glass of tomato juice from Esther with his left hand, using his half-hand to snag up the bottle of tabasco with a grateful grunt. “I have trouble with tastin’ stuff,” he rumbles in answer to the woman’s question, bringing the bottle to his mouth to twist the cap off with his teeth. He speaks around it as he dumps several shots of hot sauce into the glass. “Spicy stuff is the easiest to taste, and peppers don’t never give me no trouble.” He recaps the bottle with equal dexterity, and sets it on the end table at his elbow. Then he holds the glass out. “You want to try it?” He ignores Alison’s comments on beginnings, but there’s a bit of darkening around his ears when Mel defends himself. His teeth grind, and his lips thin. “You’re a jackass, Sharpe.” Mel grins, and winks. “Guilty.” Alison sighs, rolling her eyes a bit. “See what I mean?” Luke finally begins to sit back into the couch next to Alison, even with his mother hovering in the doorway. Why she and Janice remain standing is one of those mysteries in life. Luke listens, openly interested in the tidbit of Toru/Trib story. Knowing Trib, it might be safe to think Toru just tripled Luke’s knowledge of their relationship in one sentence. He also seems to like the fight in the young man. Luke takes a sip of his beer and leans forward to take a donut, laying claim to a chocolate glaze. Esther ‘hms’ and nods when Trib offers her his glass. She swirls the red juice around briefly, sniffs it, and takes a sip. Her eyebrows go up and she hands the glass back, nodding. “Hey, that’s not bad…” She switches back to her wine though, and takes up her lean in the doorway again. Strangely enough, rather than admonish or correct anyone’s behavior or language, Esther chuckles, glances at the muted TV briefly, and then sighs. “It’s so nice to have a house full of people, once in a while. I’m glad y’all could come over.” Janice makes a warm ‘mHM’ sound, as if she shares the feeling about a full house. "Yeah, well, it ain't." Toru's reply to Alison is a little snappish; something, apparently, has him in a sudden sour mood. He's got quite a /look/ levelled on Mel; it isn't quite a glare, but it's sure trying to be. "And what kinda guy was /that/, yeah?" He tosses back another swig of his beer, his free hand dropping down to possessively grip Trib's shoulder. That grip gets steadily tighter for a moment before, all of a sudden, he's pushing himself back to his feet. And just as soon as he'd gotten riled up, he - metaphorically, at least - lowers his hackles, running his hand through his hair to muss it up. "Mama Esther! You got a bathroom around here? Don't you hold out on me." Just as abruptly, he's back to being good-natured, even if it does sound a bit forced. His beer is pushed down towards one of Trib's hands and he mumbles, "Hold my purse, I need a minute." “‘Sgood, right?” Trib says to Esther, his mouth lifting in what appears to be a game attempt at a smile as he takes the glass back. “It’s good with that stuff from Louisiana, too.” Maybe he’s ignoring Mel, or is choosing not to rise to the bait. Whichever it is, his glare is suddenly gone in the wake of Toru’s weird tension, and his attention is focused on Esther. He takes the bottle from Toru, offering him a grunt of maybe-encouragement as he takes his leave. Alison has a glare for Mel, though only those who know the Look would recognize it. Her smile is a little /too/ wide and her expression a little /too/ happy as the teenager leaves the room. “You should settle down,” is her advice for her bodyguard, and her eyebrows hike pointedly. “Before one of them hits you.” Mel chuckles, and holds up his hands. “Hey, I thought this was a party,” he rumbles, and he nods in Esther’s direction. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll behave myself from now on.” Trib snorts. “He ain’t botherin’ me,” he assures Alison. “He’s just bein’ a ass ‘cause I wouldn’t date him last year after our match.” He shrugs helplessly at the bigger man -- meaning that his shoulders twitch once. “He’s pissin’ off Bones, though, an’ /that/ might make me have to do somethin’.” He jerks his clenched eyebrows in Esther’s direction. “Outside, I mean.” Mel exhales, and stands, already moving towards the kitchen. “Okay, okay. I promise. I’ll be the nicest guy here from now on.” Alison smiles sweetly after him. “How about just the quietest?” Mel’s response is non-verbal, and singular in its raised digit. “Honey, that would chase off a hangover like whoa…” Esther seems /slightly/ embarrassed to suddenly be discussing hangover cures with her young guest, but she just shrugs and grins, holding up her glass of wine in silent toast. The woman doesn’t stay self-conscious long. And Luke just rolls his eyes. He watches Toru go, nodding to himself. No surprise he’d want a break. Luke shifts, takes a bite of his donut and washes it down with a sip of beer. “Now see, this is what I always pictured a big family would look like.” He grins, and then sees Alison next to him and looks like he would be blushing, if only from his posture. His skin tone lets him cheat, but suddenly he’s very focused on his donut, inspecting it for flaws. Luke actually looks relieved when Trib mentions fighting. Change of topic! “Nah man, use the backyard for that. I think I got a couple sets of gloves around here somewhere too, if you want?” Esther picks up a pillow from a nearby chair and makes like she’ll throw it at him, and he flinches dutifully. Bombs and tanks? No problem. Wrath of Mom? Lord help us! Luke quickly hides his grin at Mel flipping off Alison, because it was /funny/, but getting caught grinning could be bad. His mother grunts, grins /and/ shakes her head at Mel. Janice just sips at her wine, silently amused. Toru is gone for a good several minutes before he returns, and when he does his hoodie is zipped, the hood pulled over his head, and he apparently washed his face at some point, because there's a good deal of water splattered down the front of the sweatshirt. He's quiet when he returns, though he's putting in a concentrated effort to make sure it doesn't seem like a /sulky/ quiet; grabbing his beer back from Trib, he flops onto the floor and mutters, "I'll talk about it later." He doesn't sound /angry/ or anything, at least, in contrast to his earlier demeanor. He's seated with his legs splayed out, not having adjusted his position from when he pretty much just dropped himself onto the floor, and for a moment he just sits there, nursing the beer bottle without actually drinking it. Eventually, though, in an attempt to lighten his own mood, if nothing else, he lifts the bottle to point it at the TV, looking to Luke. "So, uh, anyone make any home runs yet?" Alison giggles at Luke’s pronouncement on the group’s similarity to family, and leans into his side. “I never wanted to be part of a big family when I was a kid,” she says. “Then I went to private school, and that’s like family times ten.” She waggles fingers at the detective before stroking them along his jaw. “This /is/ nice, though.” Trib grunts agreement with Alison. “I never saw much use in big families,” he rumbles. “More kids would have meant sharin’ my granddad, an’ I wasn’t up for /that/.” He waves off the offer of the gloves, and shakes his head. “Naw, man. I don’t want to embarrass Sharpe in front of Miss Blaire an’ your mom.” Toru’s return gets a lift of one eyebrow, but Trib nods solemnly as the teenager settles himself. His hand drops to that messy stack of hair, thick fingers tangling easily there and squeezing gently in an encouraging gesture. Then, from the kitchen, there is a timer going off, and a clatter of pans that is followed immediately by Mel’s raised voice. “-- I didn’t touch anything!” Esther watches Toru’s return with a curious gaze, and smirks at the young man’s question. “Sure hon, they went for a half-court, corner kick.” She winks at the young man. “Sorry, we follow all of the big three in this house. It’s just kind of on, all the time. Pay all that money for cable and I just watch ESPN. Too bad you can’t buy just one channel.” She chuckles and sips at her wine, peering around from her spot in the doorway to get a look at the score. Esther closes her eyes and shakes her head at the crashing noises. She sets her glass down on the TV table, and heads off down the hall sighing. From afar, “Now see, that is what you get for trying to sneak a…” Her voice gradually grows quieter as she scolds Mel in the kitchen. In short order though, lunch is indeed served. Pulled-pork sandwiches all around, with more drinks to boot. Esther also made a coleslaw to go along with the sandwiches, but otherwise left it simple. The conversation eventually lulls some as everyone tucks into their food, with just murmurs for a while, mixed with a few, “Will you pass the…” and “Can I have one of those…” Esther presides over the head of the table, smiling as she watches everyone eat. Apparently she’s really enjoying having a house full of people. Toru actually switched from beer to soda once dinner rolled around, and from that to water eventually; drinking like a fish, but at least a mostly sober one. He doesn't eat quite so much, though, sticking to just one sandwich and light sides. And not so talkative, either, but at least less tense than he was for those few minutes before. Once dinner is ended, he makes his way back to the living room, sprawling in the recliner that Trib had been sitting in before, and, for a few minutes he just rests in post-eating coma, even going so far as to find his hoodie - discarded before dinner - and pulling it on, hood over his eyes and sending off very clear 'ignoring the world' signals overall. Eventually, though, he does pull the hood back down, giving a look around the room once he's gotten himself settled - in a position that looks pretty distinctly feline. One leg over an arm of the chair, the other hanging over the front, and torso and arms draped over the other arm. He'll move if Trib tries to dislodge him, but otherwise he's just going to relax while he digests and everyone else gets comfortable. Just before Toru gets up from the table, Alison’s phone rings, and with a small pinkening around her ears, she excuses herself, disappearing into the other room. Her voice raises for a moment, clearly irritated about /something/, and when she returns, the air around her is radiating a crimson color, despite the bright grin on her face. “I’m so sorry, Esther, but that was my producer. He needs me to come into the station right away.” She moves around the table to plant a kiss on Luke’s cheek, reaching up to rub her hand along his jaw. “Thank you again for lunch. Everything was just lovely.” Then she’s moving after Toru, to plant a kiss on the top of /his/ head. “You, too, Bones.” Even /Trib/ gets a kiss, and while he doesn’t look /happy/ about it, the noise he makes is more grunt than growl. During all the kissing, Mel has been getting up and clearing away his place, as well. Suddenly in business mode, he moves silently and quickly, clearing away most of the dirty dishes in the time it takes Ali to make all her good-byes. He slides up next to Esther, and leans down to peck her on the cheek, murmuring his own thanks into her ear before he stands up again and moves towards the door, Alison following behind with another flutter of fingers for the group. After they’ve gone, Trib snorts a guffaw and shakes his head. “Jesus, Cage. That girl is a /handful/, ain’t she?” He leans back in his chair, poking at his teeth with his tongue before he pushes to his feet, stretching and patting at his belly. Which is probably full, considering how much food he put away. Then he, too, is clearing some dirty dishes, narrowing his eyes at how few have been left behind by Mel. Eventually, he’ll make his way back to the living room, and his abandoned recliner. Toru isn’t so much expected to move as he is just.../moved/, picked up and held in the air until Trib has re-seated himself, and then he’s just sort of /draped/ over Trib’s stomach and lap. “What’s the score, pup?” Esther stands and makes her goodbyes with everyone who has to leave. She returns kisses and hugs, and in generally appears to be a warm, affectionate woman. She nods approvingly at everyone clearing plates, and gives Janice a sly wink when she catches her watching Mel move about. The two women grin at each other for no apparent reason, and take their own plates out to the kitchen as well. Luke makes no effort to hide his disappointment at Alison leaving, but doesn’t argue the point either. He walks her and Mel to the door, lingering a moment on the doorstep with her, until it’s clear that she /really/ needs to get going. He waves as they go, and retreats back inside. Luke winds up back in the living room, and is just in the process of settling himself down onto the couch when Esther and Janice appear in the hallway door in coats and hats. “Oh god, what have I done?” Cage mutters under his breath. It doesn’t seem possible, but his mother must have heard him, and scowls briefly, before turning a bright smile on Trib and Toru. “Well, Janice and I are going for a walk. Since we did the cooking, we thought you boys could handle the dishes.” Esther heads for the door without really waiting for a reply. She must know /Luke/ at least will comply. Esther is on the porch when Janice sticks her head back around the corner, gives Trib and Luke an evil grin, and then she’s off. When the door closes, Luke looks at Trib and Toru both, and louder this time, “Oh god… what have I /done/? Those two? Janice knows everything...” Luke tips his head back on the back of the couch and stares at the ceiling for a minute. “I should probably get started on the dishes.” Except, he’s not getting up yet. That little kiss from Alison actually gets a slight /blush/ from Toru, who mumbles a very dignified, "Y--yeah, seeya," in response, complete with goofy Toru grin. He's just about to get settled again when Trib comes along, and he's even all prepared to get out of the way before he finds himself hoisted and manhandled, saving any protests for after he gets draped over the boxer. Ultimately, though, his only response is to just smirk with some amusement, getting settled in a little more comfortably and running a hand over his hair, mussing it up as per usual. "C'mon, man, not in front'a company." Not that he's making any move to do anything about the position, mind you, and scarcely another moment passes before he adds, "It's somethin' to somethin', I dunno fuckin' football. Some guy threw a thing." Big shrug, there, but then his attention is caught by whatever's going on with Janice and the Cages over there, and he's tilting his head in that direction, ears visibly perked. He shows no negative response to the notion of doing dishes, though when Luke doesn't actually get up to do said dishes, the teen raises an eyebrow and replies, "Yeah, someone probably should." And, after a pause, "Man, can the two of you even fit in a kitchen at the same time? Y'all're pretty much, y'know, fuggin' brick walls." Trib rumbles a chuckle at Toru’s protest, and leans forward to bump his forehead against the teenager’s. “Wasn’t you listenin’? This ain’t company no more. This is fuckin’ family.” He loops an arm around the younger man’s waist, and watches as Esther and Janice make their escape. He watches the door after they’ve left for a long time, then scowls as he turns his attention back on Cage. “I’d help you, but you don’t want me handlin’ soapy dishes.” He holds up his half-hand with a completely unapologetic (and kind of smug) look. “But the pup will help you out. It’ll keep him from passin’ out on me an’ makin’ me carry his sleepy ass home.” Like Toru isn’t even /there/. Volunteering is fun. Cage grunts dismissively at Toru's concern about 'being in company', and then laughs out loud at his wrap up of recent events on the field. "Yeah Bones, that is actually /exactly/ what happened. He continues chuckling when Toru describes everyone in the kitchen. "Shit yeah, we're pretty big. But we /can/ all fit," he says with a meaningful nod in Trib's direction. Cage uses both hands to push himself up from the couch and tip his head toward the kitchen. "C'mon guys, it's a galley kitchen, but it's pretty big. Fuckin' /Mel/ was in there. And you can /dry/ Trib. You're not getting off that easy." Luke grins, shakes his head and trundles toward the kitchen, starting the sink to warm up the water. Despite the assurance, Toru still looks a little uneasy about the whole 'public affection' thing. No more verbal protests are forthcoming, though, and he just settles himself in a little more comfortably even while he's being volunteered for dish duty. It is with some moderate difficulty that he gets himself pushed off of Trib and onto the floor, stumbling a little bit as he regains his footing and calls after Cage, "He thinks we won't know he's used to havin' missin' fingers so he's just tryin' to get out of it." Trib does get a brief shoulder-squeeze as the teen passes by and, after a moment's consideration, a quick kiss on top of his head along with a whispered, "Caaake." And as he joins Cage in the kitchen, pulling off his hoodie to throw it onto a nearby chair; brushing his hair back with one hand, he notes, conspiratorially, "Joke's on him, I'm passing out either way." | |
