2019-10-07 - The Benefits of Messiness

How to take a dark place and make it brighter.

IC Date: 2019-10-07

OOC Date: 2019-07-10

Location: Oak/7 Oak Avenue - Basement

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 1975

Social

Jens

Sparrow

Some people have classes on Monday mornings. Some people are at those classes. It leaves 7 Oak nice and quiet, though evidence of Corey's residence remains on the counter in the form of peanut-butter-bacon pancakes which seem to be there for anyone to snag on their way by. Surely, there's syrup and plates and all that nonsense somewhere, but these pancakes went cold a long while ago and are pretty easy to pick up and eat on the go. It's almost certainly intentional.

Though there's no music coming from the basement, the door does stand open, and the light's on. Sparrow, in black leggings and an oversized pale pink tee shirt that reads PLEEEEEEEASE in huge black letters spread across three lines, sits on a chair in the center of the fairly open space removed from her drum kit, the monster amp set up for band practice and the minimally stocked minbar, with a sketchpad on her lap. With nothing on it. She's just staring at the walls. Which are now a very bright, golden, sunshiny shade of yellow. It no longer smells like fresh paint, so it must've been done a few days ago, at least.

Jens wanders down with a mouthful of pancake and another rolled up into an edible cylinder in his hand. "Oh, this place looks nice," he says, in the tone of someone who is imagining things to put on blank walls instead of just appreciating blank walls for what they are. He smiles at her. He's in a pair of tapered joggings, flip-flops, and an old, ratty high school hoodie. Both the hoodie and the joggings have clearly seen paint. And felt it. A lot. They are multicolored now, instead of their original... uh... something. Probably gray... ish. He walks over to her and smiles big and cheeky, leaning down to plant one on her mouth with the gusto of someone enjoying something they haven't had in a while. "Hi."

Sparrow tilts her head back when she hears those descending, flipfloppy steps, angling a big old smile back at Jens. When he leans down, she pushes up, that little bit of stretching shifting the angle of her lap just enough to unbalance the sketchbook. She reaches, blindly, in a half-assed attempt to catch it, but it falls to the floor with one dull thud as it lands on one end, then another as it flops flat. And she doesn't even look when the kiss breaks, too busy just staring all dopey and happy up at Jens. "I'd never even know you've been on death's doorstep," she croons approvingly. Possibly optimistically. Can't get sick. Don't wanna get sick. Her gaze flicks to the yellow walls, briefly, as she notes, "Theme is loosely... sacred wind? Whatever that means. Like... mm. We're sanctifying the space today. Clearing it of bad bullshit and making it something else. Doesn't gotta be all sunshine and light, but felt like the right place to start." When did her smile start dimming? She catches that now and flashes a broader grin, covering that weirdness right up.

"Feeling a lot better, yeah." He glances around and then says, "If you ask me, this town could use a lot more sunshine and light. You could a sort of chic California billboard sort of 'come to the wonderful Gray harbor beach' sort of thing, if you want to do sunshine and light but respect the uh... " He makes a gesture all around them. "Yaknow. Inherent sketchiness. sort of like the billboards and pamphlets in Dark City?" Because Gray Harbor and Dark City are... a lot more similar than they have any right to be.

And there goes that smile slipping again. At least it looks thoughtful this time, like Sparrow's trying to figure out where pieces fit. She reaches down to straighten the ruffled pages of her sketchbook and set her pencil down on top of it so that she can abandon both. "I like that. Like. A lot. But then it gets me thinking, like. Is it better to reclaim uncomfortable ideas or just ignore them? Do we take the fucked up bits and consecrate them or leave 'em out to kinda ward against it? Kinda leaning toward the former, but." Angsting. Overthinking. As Sparrows sometimes do.

Jens chews on the remains of his second pancake and then slides a hand up to the back of Sparrow's neck, his fingers wrapping lightly and then stroking over it while he stares at the walls and thinks. "Hrm. I think the former, personally. I mean, I never got far ignoring shit. I mean I try to hide a lot of the things I find when I confront the weird shit, but that's not the same thing."

Sparrow tilts into that contact without much thinking about it, head lazily lolling in absent appreciation. "Yeah. So." She's quiet a moment, shallow nodding brushing her too-red hair against his wrist. "Doors. At least one door. It's not my door so I don't know what it should look like, but maybe that's better? Not getting too specific?" Brows pitch upward as she looks sidelong to Jens. "Or a hotel ad. Ooh! And a reference to the band, since this is our practice space? Cuz that's what travel ads need. Lowered Expectations."

"I mean, technically, qwhat travel ads need are impossible to meet expectations that are inevitably a disappointment, but..." Jens teases with a laugh, shaking his head. He puts both hands on her shoulders and then wraps one of them around her neck, tilting her chin back so he can lean his considerable height down to press a kiss against her mouth again. "But I think an ad for your band as part of the reason why it's a grand vacation spot is good. Doors are ..." He glances at a wall. "You should mirror the actual door."

That chin-tilt pulls Sparrow from her scattered doors-and-drumming thoughts, so fully focused on Jens for a moment that she lags a few seconds behind post-kiss, still staring dreamily up at him until... well. He suggests depicting The Actual Door. She tips her head against him, slightly hiding the pensive expression which follows. "Yeah. Prolly. Just--I mean, I think I know which one it is. Can get a rough shape in." A hand lifts to hook loosely on his forearm. "It's a hotel room door. But I've never been there." Peeking up, she adds on a brighter note, "And my band's name is officially Lowered Expectations. Okayed by all members. Aaaaand provided to Easton when we threw our hat in for the open mic night that might never happen." Cuz it's been a while, hasn't it?

Those things take time to set up. "I figured," as to the band's name. "And I meant the location. Mirror it. Put it directly across from the actual door," he says, pointing at the basement entrance. "So that it's easy to see. That, or center-wall off to one side, if you want the big billboard thing to be at the back across from the entrance."

Sparrow lets out a little, "Oh," at the clarification, cheeks taking on just a touch of color. "Yeah. Kinda like the billboard first. Like an introduction to the too optimistic offness. And then the door." She points. Center wall. Off to the side. Placement suggesting progression. All that decided, this would probably be a good time to actually get started, but she just stays here, just like this, head tilted the other way, toward his elbow now. "Can I get a little weird at you?"

"Weird how?" Jens tilts his head. His hands on her neck stroke fingers up and down her throat a little bit as he watches her. "I mean, yeah, you can." The 'how' doesn't really change the answer. "What's up`?"

Sparrow leans her head back against Jens again, incidentally elongating her throat while she looks up at him, nose scrunching as she works up a little courage to take the next step now that permission's given. "Have you, uhm." Her face screws up a little, brows twisting unevenly. "When your dreams get weird. Do you ever end up. Like. Not. Wherever you fell asleep?" Her gaze unfocuses as she runs that through internally again. Yeah. Alright. Good. That's what she meant to ask. She looks back up at Jens expectantly.

"Depends on the type of dream, but yes." Jens frowns and then lets her throat go, stepping around so he can crouch in front of her, his arms folding over her lap as he looks up at her. Well. Not that much up. he's pretty tall. "You all right?" This town eats people up, sometimes literally, so the concern on his brows is fairly real.

Sparrow's hand pushes through her hair when that contact breaks, even briefly, scratching restlessly at the back of her head. She pulls another face as one shoulder shrugs up, like she's working up to some assurance, some little lie promising she'll be fine. But when her shoulder sinks, she admits quietly, "No." Her gaze flits to where that door might be when they're done, returning to Jens when her hands fall to settle restlessly atop his. "I've had two dreams recently in which people who are important to me got sucked into blackness and--" Shrug. "Ended up elsewhere. Found Alfie down here. In the dark." It sounds like an incomplete thought, but it just stops there.

"Mrf." Jens doesn't say anything in particular about it. He just watches her for a long moment, and then slides his hands up along the outside of her thighs, rubbing gently. "It'll be all right. This town fucks with all of us in some way or another. For me, it's Pickmanesque. For you... maybe it's starting to manifest in this. Have you been sucked into any dreams while awake?"

Sparrow's fingers creep onto Jens' hoodie, fussing absently with the fabric as she leans a little closer, like she might just tumble in against him. The question gets a shake of her head, and it's a couple seconds before she says, "Corey has. Told him he was keeping shit company." And it sounds like she might be regretting that now. "Was kinda okay with all the weird when it was background weird and animated tables. Talk about ghosts. Cuz I can wrap my brain around that and not have to think too hard. It's the shit that makes me think too hard that--" Her lips purse before pushing into an odd smile. "I just know what to do with this, ya know?"

"Yeah. I know." Jens glances around and then says, "The things. The things that are out there, across the, the line? They know." He wraps his fingers around her hands and squeezes gently. "They know the things that in the back of our heads and terrify us. So." He takes a breath. "You have to be ready for them to use it. They like us scared, I think. Like food."

Sparrow lets out a little, "Oh," as if something's clicked in her brain. Her nose scrunches as she looks away, trying to stop the way her eyes are watering. Stupid eyes. "That, uh." Explains things? Yeah. "Just get over my bullshit then and go back to being fearless and everything'll be fine." Her smile's even almost convincing when she looks back at Jens. "I can do that."

"You don't have to." Said in the tone of someone who knows that it's impossible. "But you know. That old saying. About courage not being the absence of fear." Jens smiles. "You'll be fine. It's just... this town." He pushes up a little so he can press a kiss to her forehead.

Sparrow follows that press of lips to skin, sinking in against Jens as he sinks back. She tells him, "I can be fearless," with the quiet petulance that suggests she might try just to prove him wrong, contrariness her ultimate superpower. "It's just. While I'm getting there. Getting all this ick out of my head." Cuz that's all it is, really. Right? Something she can excise? "There any way to not fuck up my people? Alfie's like... He doesn't sleep, Jens. I don't know how much longer he can keep going like this until he's nothing but sugar and caffeine and--" Hospitalized? Cuz that's probably gonna get him hospitalized.

"Are you sure it's you?" Jens leans back and looks her in the eyes. "Maybe it's him, too. Maybe it's the house. It doesn't have to be your responsibility. He needs to be able to fight back, too." He shrugs, quietly. "When they come, we band together. It doesn't matter who brought them, you know?" They. Them. He doesn't say it.

Sparrow looks like she might fight him on this right out the gates, right at that first question, the way her eyebrows draw in tight, how her jaw sets. "Yes it does," comes for the point of responsibility, talking right over him, but the words which follow hit their mark, and she shuts up, looks away. "This doesn't feel like anything we can band together against. How do you fight dreams? How do you--" She searches for the rest of that question, but it ends there with a huff, with her head slipping past his to hide against his shoulder.

"I don't know." Jens shakes his head and then shrugs a little, gently, because her face is right there. "Maybe the answer will come to you. Maybe you just have to tough it out. I dunno." He lifts his arms up and wraps them around her, pulling her closer and burying his mouth to her neck, breathing warmly against it.

Sparrow reciprocates the embrace, like his arms going around her killed the fight that had lodged itself angrily in her ribs without any reasonable outlet. Her arms sink low, beneath his, and she squeezes. Tight. And she trembles. Tears come whether she wants them to or not. She mutters a soft, frustrated, "Fuck," against his shoulder before turning her head, nearly mirroring his, nose to his neck. "C'I tell you something else? Different kinda weird?"

Jens keeps her squeezed tightly, until he can just turn his head and press a kiss to her cheek. Her question gets a slow nod and he lifts a hand to stroke trhough the back of her head, into her hair. "Sure."

"I like this," comes with a wet laugh, sorta sobbed. "You. This. Like." She turns her head to wipe her nose on her shoulder rather than his. So thoughtful! "I've been keeping it together for Corey and Alfie and. That's what I do, right? Strong one. Big sister. Mama bird badass. And just..." She sniffles. "You let me be messy. You make me messy. Everything about the way I feel about you is messy. Except this."

Jens laughs. It's soft and it's not mocking at all. He peels his hands back and cups her cheeks with them, pulling her face up so he can look her in the eyes and smile at her. "Yeah, well. I like this, too. I like you messy." He tilts his head and then kisses her mouth softly, briefly, before looking at her again. "I would rather it be a different kind of mess, just because this one doesn't seem particularly fun for you, but I do like that you can be messy with me." Where messy apparently means letting her guard down, probably. "Something to be said for hot messes, right?"

Sparrow's cheeks are wet and red, her nose a little runny. She's not full out bawling, but her face is definitely leaking without her permission. And still, there's a crooked little smile, dim but definitely present, when he draws her head up into his hands. And that smile grows noticeably in the wake of that kiss. "Kinda rather this mess than some of the other messes I was feeling but." Sniffle. "This helps. Which isn't to say that different kind of messes wouldn't help more." Her smile sharpens a little, a glimmer of flirtation shining through the tears and snot. "Like painting maybe?" Much as that clearly wasn't what she meant, she sounds sincere when she adds, "It'll definitely help to make this place mine again."

Jens laughs and shakes his head. "You're incorrigible." His comment lacks any sort of actual criticism, of course. He presses his mouth to hers again for a moment, and then stands up, holding his hands down for her to take so he can pull her up, too. "Let's do it. Paint fumes are just what my recovering body needs." He's not even kidding. let's get super high on paint fumes.