ArchivedLogs:Moving In

Moving In
Dramatis Personae Melinda, Tag	2012-12-14 '
Location
It is Friday and Melinda has taken time off work to make sure that her new roommate is properly settled in his new room. She's taken the time to push all of the living room furniture into one corner to make the trip to that bedroom door a direct and straight shot. The kitchen has been cleaned up and she is still working on the bathroom on that side of the apartment around the time that Tag is supposed to arrive. It's a quiet morning. Well, it's getting to be a quiet afternoon by this point, but that's too be expected, what with time marching on and all that. There is a knock at the living room window. Crouched on the fire escape and burdened only with a single backpack, Tag waves at Melinda sheepishly. He wears a warmer jacket than he is wont to, a sky blue soft shell edged with flame patterns. His jeans are torn and riddled with organic patterns in green and violet. He is also sporting a black eye. Melinda appears, but appears to be quite confused as to where that noise came from. She scans the interior for something that has moved before her eyes narrow with deeper confusion on her roommate outside the window. She maneuvers around the furniture, which is in positively the wrong place now, and unlocks the window and opens it. "Good gravy, what are you doing out here?" The natural purse of her lips deepens. "Are you okay? Did you get attacked coming here?" Instead of letting him in, she leans her head and shoulders outside to look around for transgressors. Tag chuckles nervously. "My ex showed up at the house while I was packing, and we kind of got into it. It doesn't hurt /that/ bad." He indicates the bruise. "He chased me, though, so I took the rooftop route. I lost him way back, but it was just more scenic up here, you know?" "Your ex?" Melinda looks skeptical and backs out of the way, allowing Tag entrance into the apartment. "Is this something we should all worry about? I mean, we should at least know who not to let into the apartment, if ... well... that person should find you and show up." Displeased, she turns and starts shoving an arm chair back where it belongs. "Do you have other stuff?" Tag shakes his head and climbs down through the window. "It was just the first time I've seen him since...we broke up. He was pissed. The other punks will talk him down. Probably. You'll know him if you see him, though, at least for a few days. He looks red--like fire engine red." He unslings the technicolor tartan backpack from one shoulder. It looks heavy. "This is pretty much it, as far as my own stuff goes. Most of the rest belonged to the house." "Red..." Melinda pauses and straightens and looks at him. "Are you okay?" She inhales. "Look, I know I asked this before, but breaking up with someone is no excuse to hit them." She closes the window behind Tag and settles into the arm chair, arms crossing over her chest afterwards, fidgety. "You don't have to play this down. I see a lot at the shelter I work with. We can get you help if you need it." Easing the backpack down to the floor, Tag perches on the arm of the nearest couch. "No...I mean, we're done. I'm not going back to him, and I doubt he wants anything more to do with me now that he's gotten payback. Besides, I think he /might/ be more angry about me turning him red than breaking up with him." He gives a helpless shrug. "It wasn't intentional, and it's not permanent, but it scared the crap out of him at the time. The other housemates were not too happy about it, either, which is why I had to find a new place." "Okay," Melinda concedes, her arms relaxing a little and leaning forward to look at his bag. "Still, you know, if you need someone to talk to..." She utters awkwardly then inhales. "So, you don't have any furniture? Hrm." "Thanks, Mel." Tag breaks into a smile, then winces slightly. "No, I've been kind of...itinerant, I guess? I've pitched in for furniture before, but it'll all been communally owned. Even if I owned the furniture at the punk house, I would not bring it with me. Stuff gets kind of gross there. I can bum a sleeping bag off of my little brother and sleep on the floor until I find a futon or something." Melinda nods and is quiet for a while longer before shrugging. "Well, we can also see if anyone minds you using the couch in here for the time being." She runs her fingers up the back of her neck to scratch at the base of her skull, still thoughtful. "Unless you think it'll take forever -- or that you'd like to just be in your room? I mean, it's all okay, I just would like to help make things comfortable." She glances around the apartment, chewing on her lip. "I was going to help you get unpacked and moved, but... if that's all..." "Don't worry about it," Tag says, rising. "I have no problem sleeping on the floor, really. How soon I can get my own furniture will depend a lot on that job hunt, and...well, I don't really have any prospects yet. I have been doing commissions and all that, though, which is why I /do/ have enough for rent--for now, anyway." He retrieves a rainbow-hued greeting card envelope from the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to Melinda. "That should cover this month and next." Melinda accepts the envelope and opens it to peek inside without much thought. She does not, however, count it. "Oh, I'm not charging you for December, so ... Merry Holiday of Your Choice. The last guy paid for the month and I have no need to make money off of you just because he got out early." She smiles and folds the envelope, cash and all, and stuffs it into the back pocket of her jeans. "Here, I'll help!" She moves to grab his bag. "Bedroom's right over here," in case he's forgotten from a couple days ago when he first saw it. Tag follows Melinda into the room, running the tips of his fingers along the wall as he goes. "Wow...my own room!" He looks around, grinning. "It has been a while. So I can color the walls, right? I promise I will return them to their present state when I go, but if you want a paint deposit we can do that, too." "Just as long as you believe you'll be able to repaint it without difficulties when you leave, you can do whatever. If you're worried about funding it, then you should leave a deposit." Melinda unslings the bag from her shoulder as she strides to the center of the room. "Hey, you're paying for it. Of course you get you're own room. Don't let Dale hear that you're used to sharing. He's been looking forever for someone to go in with him on his bunkbeds idea. He wants to halve his rent and I think I could get it past the landlord, but so far, he hasn't found anyone who actually would be willing." "I might have to talk to Dale if I don't find employment soon!" Tag says, but his smile does not fade. "But I am not an easy roommate to accommodate, so I usually only room with my lovers. At least then they have a compelling reason to put up with the walls and furniture changing colors all the time." He pauses to gaze out the window. "And...other stuff." Suddenly, he turns back to Melinda. "Thank you again! You really didn't have to take the day off. Could I help out with something? Cleaning? Cooking?" "I'm sure someone might -- Don't know about Dale." Melinda shrugs and smiles. "Hey, don't worry about it. Getting people settled is kind of important." She leaves the bag on the floor and moves over to the window to look out, gnawing on her lip. "What other stuff? Is there anything we should know about you? I mean, health info? Emergency contacts?" Tag frowns and fishes a scrap of paper from the hip pocket of his jeans. The addresses written on it fade away, replaced by a single name and phone number. The letters and numbers look hand-written, but do not dent the paper at all. "My brother Tian-Yi," he explains, handing the paper to Melinda, "you can call him if anything /really/ bad happens to me--accident, the law, whatever. As for health stuff..." He stares doggedly at the street below. "I'm pretty healthy, but, you know, I'm still a mutant. Something went funny with my genes." He shrugs. "It isn't important." Melinda frowns at Tag and steps back from the window. She takes the paper and looks it over before returning her attention to her new roommate. "Genetics are funny things. You being a mutant doesn't mean much to me, unless it affects your health -- or you know, the health of those around you." She steps away and heads for the door. "Cooking and cleaning is done. If you want to make dinner, that's cool. There's a calender on the fridge that says who'll be home tonight. Don't know what else to say." She fishes a couple keyson a keyringout of her pocket and turns back to Tag. "Here, catch." She waits until he is ready to throw the keys. "It definitely won't affect anyone else's health," Tag assures her. "As for my own, only time will tell. So far I still seem to be alive, though!" He grins, and it only looks a tiny bit forced. "I'll take a look in the fridge and see what I can do." Catching the keys, he salutes her with them. "Okay, well, let me know if you need anything." Melinda smiles and leaves her hand up for a moment longer to wave. She then turns and leaves him to get settled. Tag lingers by the window for a few more moments, then turns back to face the room. He sits down in the middle of the room beside his backpack and sees the walls in his mind, calling the relevant colors out of the inoffensive ecru. Brilliant wildflowers painted themselves onto an impressionistic glade surrounded by towering trees. Above them, a night sky blazes with aurora and a single comet. Tag smiles and starts unpacking.