ArchivedLogs:Hos == Bros

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Hos == Bros
Dramatis Personae

Hive, Jackson, Lucien, Melinda

2013-02-11


Lucien comes by for a scarf. Discovers some friends instead.

Location

<NYC> 303 {Holland} - Village Lofts- East Village


This apartment is cheerful, in its way -- bright and airy, its floor plan open and a plethora of windows providing it with an abundance of light. The tiny entrance hall opens into a living room, small, though its sparse furniture and lack of clutter give it a more open feel. The decor is subdued and minimalist; black and white is the dominant theme, with occasional splashes of deep crimson to offset the monochrome, though of late bright coloured sealife has made its way into being painted on the wall. The couch and armchair are upholstered in black corduroy, the low wide coffee table central is black wood and glass-topped, and a few large pillowy beanbags provide additional seating by the large windows that dominate the back wall. Towards the back, a couple of doors lead off into bedrooms and bathroom, and to the right, the kitchen's tile is separated from the living room's dark hardwood floors by black countertops. Above the bedroom to one side, there is higher space; a ladder climbs up to a lofted area looking down on the living room. Standing in front of the partition between living and cooking area is a large fish tank: one lone Betta, blood-red, swims regally among several species of black and silver fish. A hallway beyond the kitchen leads further into the apartment. Another bathroom stands just into the hall and the farthest door leads to the apartment's final bedroom, the door usually kept shut to hold in the acrid fumes of turpentine and paints from within.

Buzz. Buzzzzzz. That is an impatient sounding ringing on Jax's apartment buzzer. Buzz again, just for good measure.

Cracklecrackle. Static, first, then, "Sorry, who's there?"

Lucien's tone, at least, does not sound impatient. "It's Lucien. I'm sorry, my sister left her scarf here last night. She's very insistent no other scarves match up."

There's a laugh from the intercome, cheerful-easy, and then the door buzzes open. "303. Come on up."

Lucien takes the stairs, arriving shortly thereafter. He's dressed in jeans, boots still somewhat slushy, a peacoat, and has a gym bag slung over his arm. He smells freshly-showered. He knocks lightly on Jackson's door, less impatient here than at the buzzer downstairs.

The door is opened in short order. Jax is dressed in leggings, swirled with images of constellations and galaxies, a short green skirt over top. His t-shirt is pale blue, a bright pink pony cavorting on it and FREE HUGS written around the image. He opens the door, smiling bright at Lucien. "Hi! Um, sorry, right, scarf. It's in the twins' -- hey you smell good! Oh, right, /scarf/. Do you want anything like maybe a tea? S'cold out." This comes out in a cheerful stream of chatter as he gestures Lucien inside. "How's your everyone doing?"

Lucien slips inside, setting the gym bag down. He leans against the wall to untie his boots, taking them off one at a time. "No, I am quite -- tea?" This perhaps is the magic word. His lips curl up easily, pushing exhaustion back from his face. "I would love a tea, thank you. Have you recovered from last night? That was quite a crowd."

"Oh, yeah, but, I mean, better than everyone getting those tickets, ain't it?" Jackson shrugs a shoulder, slipping away into the kitchen to put a kettle on. He fills two mugs with hot water, leaving them on the counter to warm. "Green? Black? Oolong? I got, um, some Assam and some pretty good sencha and some Taiwanese oolong that's sort of strong --" His tongue pokes up into his cheek. "And it was fun, y'know. Kinda an impromptu party."

"Fun. I suppose." Lucien doesn't seem /entirely/ confident on this point, reiterating by way of Argument: "It was quite a crowd." He follows after Jackson in socked feet, now, drifting over to the kitchen doorway to watch the tea preparation. "It was enjoyable, though. I think the children got on well."

"S'that how you measure a good time? How much fun /they/ had?" Jax's smile is teasing. "Should I put a little sump'n sump'n in the cocoa for you next time? Loosen up a bit, mebbe?" He plucks a tea tin out of the cabinet, prising the top open to fill a pair of tea balls and rest them on the counter. "Y'look kinda peaked, s'you out late after?"

Melinda appears outside just around then, a basket on one arm and a red coat covering her torso. She has a red hat on today, and a red scarf. Her boots are black as well, with dark blue jeans tucked in, but all of this is immaterial as she is standing downstairs and has to push the call button to get someone to let her in. Which she does. Buzzzzz.

"Late enough," Lucien says, wryly. "I work nights, often. And your cocoa was delicious as-is." The sound of the buzzer draws his eyes back towards the door, and he straightens slightly. "I am sorry, were you expecting company? I'm interrupting."

"You ain't interrupting nothing, honey-honey," Jackson assures Lucien, slipping past the taller man to skip back towards the door and push the intercom -- "H'lo?" Not intercom'd: "Man, I /feel/ you on the nights, I tend bar in Chelsea. S'it you do?"

"Hey Jax," comes the voice from the other side. "It's Mel. I was going to stop by with cookies but remembered you're vegan. I brought chocolate chips and molassas instead. The snow's making me stir crazy. You busy?"

"Mel?" This puts a surprised expression on Lucien's face, chasing off the tired one that was there before. "Small town. Right." It's only New York City after all. "-- Chocolate chips and molasses." He leans against the wall, a small curl of amusement twitching at his lips. "I fuck people," is his blunt answer, at length, watching Jax blandly. "For pay."

"Hi, Mel! You -- oh. Uh. No, not busy, come on up!" Jax might sound a /little/ bemused but it's cheerful all the same. The buzzer unlocks both building doors a moment later. "You --" But then the kettle's whistling, and he dashes back to the kitchen, emptying both tea mugs and sticking the tea balls inside. He turns the stove off, waiting for the kettle to calm down as one hand starts to glow brighter. "You -- oh. That's. Oh." He watches Lucien back, uncertain. "-- Do you like doing that?"

Melinda pulls the door open when buzzed in, and heads upstairs!

By the time she gets up there there's a Hive at Jax's door. Scruffy as ever, in jeans and a t-shirt that has what looks like a cross between a My Little Pony-turned-Nazgul Steed on it. No shoes. He's not knocking. He's just unlocking the door.

"I thought everyone liked sex," Lucien answers evenly.

"Well --" This puts a /deep/ flush in Jax's cheek. Sans potholders, he reaches out to pick up the kettle with his one glowing hand, filling the two mugs. "I mean, most people like sex, I just -- that's not what I asked." He glances towards the door at the rattle of keys from outside it, a little confused.

Melinda blinks at Hive as she comes upstairs, head tilting to one side as she spies him at Jackson's door. "Oh. Hi." She comes over and stands behind him, aware of his bare as she is wearing boots. "I didn't know you lived here." She waits for him to open the door.

"I don't. Hey, Mel." Hive opens the door, holding it behind him for Melinda after he ambles in. "Jaaax the douchebag upstairs is having some kind of teenage snitfit about a -- oh." He blinks at Lucien, frowning. "Sorry. Can we ban teenagers? Cuz seriously, /fuck/ teenagers."

"I am good at what I do." Lucien lifts a hand, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "I had a similar sentiment recently," he mutters against his palm, when Hive speaks. "Forgive me, Jax, I think I am interrupting again."

"No, no, you're fine, I -- Hive, /what/ -- Hey, Mel!" Jax is looking flustered, abruptly, knuckles rubbing up beneath his eyepatch. "Who -- what -- why. Do y'all want tea? I've made tea."

"Lucien?" Melinda is surprised to see the other man there. She sets down her basket and begins unzipping her boots. "And here I thought I was giving you a day off from my cabin fever." She smiles a little at Jax and lifts a hand to wave at him. She pulls off her coat, hat and scarf to reveal a baggy long sleeved tee underneath in robins egg blue. The winter garb is hung up with some practiced ease before Mel snatches up her basket again. "Tea sounds lovely, hun," she offers to Jax before casting a few words to Lucien over her shoulder. "Don't mind Hive. He's just kind of abrupt like - well, this." This is mentioned with affectionate feelings, her own thoughts revolving around whether she should be the one who is apologizing on account of her unexpected visit. The basket is placed on a kitchen counter.

"Nothing. Some dickwad, that's all. People /really/ have a problem with sex work, did you know that? -- Of course /you/ knew that." Hive /was/ talking to Jax, but now he addresses that last to Lucien, with an absent scuff of fingers against the side of his head. "Just shit, how do you not deck people like. All the fucking time, cuz I want to and I'm not even a hooker."

"I was aware." This draws a small smile out of Lucien, tired and thin. "When it comes to sex, people have all manner of hangups. Mel. A pleasant surprise. I was just stopping by to pick up my -- there was a war yesterday," he tells her seriously. "My sister's scarf was a casualty."

"Wait, what's going on?" Jax looks confused, peering around the kitchen doorway towards Hive and Melinda. "I mean, who's -- is someone giving you /problems/?" He disappears back in to refill the kettle and turn the stove on under it, getting out another pair of mugs. He fills them with hot water, and pulls the tea balls out of the currently steeping one. "Um, it's oolong, do y'all want any -- sugar or anything?" He has a mug in both hands, offering one towards Lucien uncertainly and glancing out towards Melinda to hold up the other in indication. "Did you wanna bake cookies?"

Melinda blinks as she looks around the room quietly at the talk of sex and hang ups and prostitutes, thinking of all the trouble she avoids by just not having sex! It's so easy! She accepts the cup from Jackson and leans over to inhale the aroma deeply. "Black is fine and cookies will be wonderful when things are a little more relaxed. No need to jump into them immediately" It's so busy here. Poor Jax looks a little stressed too. Mel takes her cup and wanders a little closer to where Lucien has placed himself. "It's a pleasant surprise for me too. Did the scarf survive, or are we just locating the tattered remains?"

"Jax is usually frazzled. S'kinda adorable though, innit?" Hive takes a seat at the counter, leaning against it and glancing over Melinda and Lucien both. "So, what'd you do to Doug?" He has no comments as to Scarf, although: "Wait, there was a war and I missed it?" He sounds a little disappointed. "I miss all the fun."

Lucien is quiet a moment, sipping slow at the hot tea. The sip comes with a gentle tick of relaxation through his tightly-corded-up shoulders, and he leans back against the doorframe with a smile. "There was a snow battle. Many fell. But they all got back up again after and came here for cocoa and some truly excellent stew. I do hope the scarf survived, she is rather fond of it." He takes another -- looonger -- sip of tea, his own surface thoughts as glassy-blank as ever. "I did nothing to Doug." That's a little bit more clipped than before.

"Doug like my neighbor Doug?" Jax is confused, this is clear enough. He's usually confused, it comes hand in hand with the frazzled. "Oh, scarf!" He darts out of the kitchen, skidding across the wood floor in socked feet to disappear into the twins' room. Just for a moment, returning with Desiree's scarf in hand. "Is Doug okay, is something wrong?" Nervousness, now, to add to his confusion.

<< Yes. He's very sweet. >> Melinda smiles as she watches Jackson skid across the room, her tea warming her hands through the sleeves she pulls up to hold the hot cup. She doesn't bother with warming her innards quiet yet. "I missed out on this war as well." << I had a wicked hangover from trying to drink a militaryveteranunder the table. Okay, maybe not actually /trying/ to do so, but it was fun. >> "I shall have to erect a memorial to the fallen and re-risen if the snow lasts the night." She moves to follow Hive's lead and take a seat at the counter.

"Those military dudes can kill you. Fun's good, though." Hive props an elbow on the table, his eyebrows raising, skeptically. "Yeah, cuz he seems right pissed at you, I came down here to get away from the fucking /noise/ -- mind noise, I mean, it's not like he can /help/ it but it seems you ticked him off but good. What'd you do to Shelby, then?" He's looking Lucien over, now, critically.

"Military --?" Lucien glances between Hive and Melinda, perplexed. "I did nothing," he insists again, in a tired voice. "They are teenagers. And particularly immature examples of type. Would you like to see for yourself?" It takes a notable jaw-clench of effort, but slowly the carefully cultivated unobtrusiveness of his mind eases away into a more typical jumble of thoughts. Exhausted thoughts. Fretting about his brother. Fretting about his other siblings. Planning ahead for his appointment later that night. A residual veneer of irritation on the subject of Doug. He forces himself to recall the exchange at the gym. "And I did nothing to Shelby, either, save suggest to her doctor-friend that education or a job would be more sustainable long-term plans than hitting everyone up for money."

"We could build one. The battle was in the park. It was brutal. There's probably signs of the struggle all over. If they ain't melted yet." The kettle's whistling again. Jax's hand glows once more as he moves to empty the glasses, put the tea balls in, refill the next pair of mugs with water from the kettle. He turns the stove off afterwards, his hand dimming back to normal. "Shelby's enrolled at Xavier's," he says, then, though lingering confusion of the matter of Doug is forefront in his mind.

<< Lucien was in the right in that situation >> Melinda's thoughts are quick, defensive, and a bit raw on this topic, her eyes narrowing at her tea. << She stormed in looking to rip him a new one for giving a shit about her and then was an ass to pretty much everyone, you know, the day after she pulled that shit at the open mic. >> Mel feels a little guilty about how Lucien was defensive of her, but Shelby was rather asking for it. She doesn't mention the military guy. She's a bit distracted by the mention of enrollment. "So... she's off the streets and not with that creepy doctor anymore?"

There's a pressure, squeezing and none too comfortable, against Lucien's mind when he opens it up to Hive. Prying mental fingers poke their way in sharp and digging, rooting out the morning's memories, and when Hive is through he withdraws with a grimace. He turns the same grimace on Melinda, fingers scuffing against the side of his head. "Sheesh," is his initial answer. "Fucking /teenagers/, man. Who the fuck /says/ shit like that? You should've punched him," is his opinion. "-- Maybe her too, uh. Hey, she's in school at least, that's a good, right?"

Lucien's teeth grit, through the memory-digging. His fingers tighten hard around his cup and he takes slow careful sips of his tea, focusing on the flavour washing over his tongue. He exhales slowly once Hive withdraws, mind shuttering itself off neatly once more. "Xavier's? She did, really?" He sounds -- pleasantly surprised by this. "There was a time in life I would have," he tells Hive wryly. "Then I grew up." He says this like it's /unfortunate/, not like it's a bragging right. "Do you find Iolaus creepy? Why is that?" he wonders, curiously.

"Some people deserve a wake-up... punch in the face," is Hive's snorted opinion. He frowns at Jax's confusion, and elucidates for the non-telepaths in the room: "Luci ran into him in the gym today. He made some sulky pissant comment about how he'd tried to help you but you wouldn't let him, and Lucien pointed out that what he was offering would've made more trouble for you, which he agreed but kept fucking sulking about how /unappreciated/ he is with his leet haxor skills. And then compared it to sex work, saying, uh --" He glances quickly over to Lucien, but continues, "-- That it'd frustrate Lucien too, people not letting him do what he does best, and said well, yeah, people are trying to keep Lucien from that. With solicitation laws." Hive is grimacing again by the end of this. "You're a more polite man than I am, dude. Also, fuck, but god help Xaviers. Shelby /and/ Shane there? Shit. What's wrong with Io? I'm working for him."

"Have -- have the police talked to you?" Jax asks Hive, carefully, at the reminder of Doug's offer of Help. "I -- I think I might be in trouble, for the whole --" Mayor thing. /More/ worry, here; what'll happen to his kids if he's in trouble? Even if he doesn't go to jail won't the police poking around make him look Unfit for custody? Maybe he /should/ have let Doug -- no, that's /dumb/ there's no way that would've worked like the magic bullet it was being painted as -- but. Stress. Worry. He leans in to sniff at the tea, taking the tea balls out and emptying them into the compost bin. He rinses the balls, and slides one mug across the counter to Hive, keeping the last for himself. "I don't know if she'll live there on weekends too, but, yeah. She's at Xavier's." He puts on a bright smile at this. "It's a good step." The smile isn't echoed in his internally still pretty rambling-stressy thoughts. "Did he really -- what, like /all/ you are is a --" Frown.

"What? No one else has noticed how much he has a hard on for mutants?" Melinda asks of the group, a little sheepishly. She purses her lips and inhales deeply. "Well, maybe not a hard on, but it's definitely a weird glee when he finds out someone is not... um, boring and then keys in on them like they've got sparklers attached their shoulders or something." She exhales moodily on her tea then takes a sip. "Maybe it's just an outsider's view." And then she feels awkward. Oh gosh. the only unpowered person in the room and... wait. what? Jax in trouble? She quiets.

"Whore," Lucien supplies helpfully to Jax. "Yes. Clearly, that is the sum total of my skills, challenges, and aspirations in life. Fucking people. It's alright. I'm used to people making all sorts of presumptions about my work. Just not generally in such a petty teenage tantrum. -- The police /are/ after you?" His lips press together thinly. He exhales once, sharp and almost amused. "-- I suppose it is a good thing you did not get your friend to tamper with any records of the matter, then. I have noticed his, ah, mutant fetish, although I was rather hoping he was just a genuine philanthropist. Some people want to help." He says this a little dryly like he doesn't /quite/ believe it himself. "I never told him that I am one. Perhaps for the better."

"I don't tend to hide it -- well, with the boys everyone just assumes 'bout me even before they know for sure." Jackson grimaces. "And I guess now a whooole lot more people know for sure. Wow, that's -- he couldn't have /meant/ to be that mean, could -- well, I don't know." How well does he know Doug, really? His thoughts are distinctly uncomfortable. "He seems nice enough with me, just -- sometimes maybe he don't think things through all the way," he hedges placatingly, "that weren't a good thing to say for sure but --" He bites down on his lip. "Sometimes," he adds to Melinda, with greater cheer, "I pretty much have sparklers attached to my shoulders."

Melinda's ears pinken at the talk of whores. Well, it /makes/ sense, even if Lucien hadn't explicitly said what he did before. He must be /amazing/ at his job, given what he can do with his touch. La la la la la, don't think of Lucien having sex even though that must be wonderful. Lalalalalala. Focus on Jax. "Sparklers, eh? I believe you. I saw you when you and Iolaus met my roommate." << is that vague enough to not scream which one is a mutant. Man, even Jax seemed uncomfortable with him when he latched on to... um. him. >> Aaand she can't help but imagine Tag's face. Fuck. No secrets from Hive. "Hey, if there's anything I can do to help, hun, with the police thing, that's legal and above board, let me know."

"Yeah, they want to talk to me, too," Hive affirms to Jax, glowering into his tea. "What the fuck, man, you saved the Mayor's fucking /life/ you'd think that'd be like a gorram commendation, not heckling." He slurps a large mouthful of tea. And struggles to fight off a smirk at Melinda's internal monologue. "I don't have any doubt you /are/ good at your job," Hive says to Lucien, drier, "but you'd have to be kind of a fucking dipstick to assume that's -- the /thing/ you're good at. Just talking to you it's clear you're brilliant. And I've --" He hesitates, a moment, glancing at Lucien's face, but then shrugs and plows ahead: "I mean, I've seen you with your brother. S'clearly a fuckton more you care about than work."

Lucien's breath catches, briefly. His gaze drops down to regard his tea mug with intent contemplation. He draws in the slow breath that had hitched, lets it back out again. With his jaw tightly clenched for a moment it seems he might respond angrily, but when he speaks it is only a quiet, gentle: "Thank you."

Jackson flushes darker at the mention of Melinda's roommate. "Your roommate's --" he starts, but then just -- blushes more. His eyes skip between the others, lingering on Lucien a moment with a quick smile. What he says, though, is: "Hey, you wanna bake those cookies, now?"

Melinda nods, grateful for the alternative topic of conversation. "Yes. Let's make cookies!"