ArchivedLogs:News
| News | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2013-10-20 ' |
| Location
<NYC> The Sharktank - Village Lofts - East Village | |
Everything in this bedroom comes in pairs. Two beds (pushed together to the center of the room to form one larger one), two desks, two bookshelves, two dressers, two closets. The walls hold a scattering of artwork in Jax's typically whimsical-surreal style. The right side of the room is impeccably tidy; desk neatly arranged: often a laptop or a nook, but otherwise cleared off, everything tucked in its drawers save for a small arrangement of textbooks and music books and little colourful glass figurines or pale bone sculptures on its upper shelves. Closet neatly in order, clothing (favouring pinstripes, vests, slacks) pressed and hung, shoes on a shoe tree inside the door. Books on the shelf neatly categorized. The left side of the room is a riotous spill of colour, bright eclectic wardrobe (lots of skirts and dresses and clothing with many bright patterns) haphazardly thrown together; desk cluttered with books and notes and an assortment of bones, its shelves also holding little glass or bone sculptures, though this alongside a wealth of mechanical parts or small robots in various states of completion. The floor here tends towards clutter; more robot-parts, clothing, treacherous Legos lying in wait for unsuspecting feet. It's growing late on Sunday night, the apartments growing quieter as people trickle off to sleep -- though they're never /entirely/ quiet, this many people means someone is always /up/. Right now that someone is Anole, tucked away into the twins' room with Shane's laptop and his CS homework, the round pink tip of his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth as he works. He doesn't look like he's aiming for bed any time soon, still in the jeans and Columbia sweatshirt he's been wearing all day. He hasn't closed the door out to the living room, either, intermittently looking up from his homework to watch the quieting household outside. Jax knocks, before he enters, though the door is open. Tap tap tap on the doorframe, and then he sticks his bright-coloured head into the room. "Hey, honey-honey." His voice is quiet, bright blue eye looking from laptop to Anole. His hands are full as he steps into the doorway, a plate with a pair of brownies in one and a mug in the other. "D'you got a bit to talk? S'somethin' you need to hear." He offers the plate and the mug forward silently; no explanation but brownies and hot chocolate perhaps speak for themselves. Anole's eyes light at the offer of brownies; there's a sudden flash of pink, plate slightly jostled in Jax's hands as his (very) long pink tongue thwips out to nab one of the two brownies off the plate; it disappears into his mouth in a flash. He ducks his head sheepishly after this, flicking an apologetic glance to Jax. He leaves the laptop on the desk and stands, creeping closer to hold out his hands for the plate and mug. "Forry, i shuf fmell --" He takes a moment to actually swallow, clearing his mouth before trying again apologetically, "-- Sorry, it just smelled really good. Um. Thank you." He slinks back over to sit down on the floor, leaning up against the side of the bed. "Talk to me?" His brows wrinkle slightly. "Y-yes I have time um am I in trouble?" There's a briefly impressed look at Anole's brownie-theft. Jax relinquishes the plate and mug readily, closing the door behind himself and moving further into the room to take a seat also on the floor, opposite Anole. "Oh, no, honey-honey, you ain't in no trouble. I just --" He folds his legs into a pretzel, hands resting on his knees. "Just needed to talk to you." He waits for Anole to settle back into place before continuing, quietly. "About Nox." Anole is eating his second brownie more carefully, breaking off a piece with his fingers to pop it into his mouth. He picks up the mug afterwards, sniffing at it and then taking a small sip, tentative at first to test its heat but then deeper. The mug lowers at this information, though, a chocolatey moustache on his green lip. "About Nox?" His brow furrows again, deeper. "I -- she didn't come back with you, I heard they -- move people a lot are you going to -- try again? I know you --" He sounds guilty for even asking. "-- got really hurt but if --" This trails off; he fidgets with the brownie, breaking off another small bite but then just smushing it claylike between his fingers. Jackson shakes his head, when Anole speaks. He inches a little closer to the teenager, resting his hand down on the floor between them but not actually touching Anole. "Anole, they didn't move her in no other lab. She died there, a while before we got there. We didn't get to her in time, I'm so sorry." Anole continues to smush the brownie between his fingers. Slow and mechanical. The frown fades from his face as Jackson speaks, his eyes slowly widening. He is silent after this. Just staring at Jackson steadily. "Anole, I'm sorry. I wish so much that we'd --" Jax shakes his head, tentatively reaching a hand towards Anole's arm. His fingers are very warm when they move to rest against the teenager's shoulder. "I'm sorry, honey-honey. If there's anything you need -- anything all we can do --" Anole tenses briefly under Jax's touch, but then leans forward. His head thunks against Jax's chest, weight shifting to lean against Jax as the small bite of brownie falls off to the floor, forgotten. Jax curls both his arms up, now, wrapping them tight around Anole. His hand lifts, fingers rubbing slowly at the hard top of Anole's head, tracing between its spikes. He holds the boy close, rocking slowly back and forth. Anole doesn't cry. But he does sink in to the hug, face pressed up against Jax's shirt and his chocolatey fingers curling tight into its fabric. For a few minutes he is silent, letting Jax rock him, just huddled close against the older man. He pulls back after a time, though, eyes still dry and fixing on some point past Jax's shoulder. "I need to finish my homework." He is pushing himself slowly to his feet, a little woodenly, brownie and cocoa forgotten on the floor. Jax lets Anole go when he starts to pull back, but there's a deep frown on his face. He stands, too, reaching a hand for Anole's elbow, resting there lightly when Anole gets up. "Honey-honey --" He furrows his brow, waiting for Anole to get solidly to his feet before dropping his hand. "We're here for you if you need anything, sweetie. Me an' Micah both." Anole leans into that touch for a moment, his eyes closing. He doesn't answer Jax, though. He shuffles back to the desk, dropping heavily into its desk chair and staring numbly at the computer. Jax watches Anole move. He crouches, picking up the still-hot cocoa and the plate of brownie, quietly padding over to leave these at Anole's elbow. He leans down, kissing the top of the boy's spiky head, and then slips quietly out of the room to find the twins and send them in, in his place. | |
