ArchivedLogs:Incognito

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Incognito
Dramatis Personae

Allison, Marrow, Not B, Steve

In Absentia


2017-08-02


"The legends are overrated."

Location

<NYC> Tompkins Square Park - East Village


Small but popular, this tree-lined park is a perfect centerpiece to the eclectic neighborhood it resides in. Home to a number of playgrounds and courts from handball to basketball, it also houses a dog park and chess tables, providing excellent space for people watching -- especially during its frequent and often eccentric festivals, from Wigstock to its yearly Allen Ginsberg tribute Howl festival.

The day has been hot but not intolerably so, and has mellowed into a perfect summer evening. The park is always popular at this time of day, and in good weather even more so. Picnickers carpet the lawns, the chess tables are all occupied (many games with their own halo of onlookers), and the dog park is lively with pups at play and their guardians alike. Steve makes his slow way along the path, an enormous brindled pit bull mutt snuffling the ground at his side. He hasn't changed out of his Serious Daytime Attire, though he's loosened it somewhat: the top two buttons of his white dress shirt are unbuttoned and the sleeve are rolled up (neatly) to the elbows, and his camel pleat-front trousers are rumpled from sitting all day. The shield slung across his back doesn't, perhaps, /quite/ go with the tailored formalwear.

With all of this nice weather, Allison has dragged herself away from the studio and out into the sunshine to enjoy fresh air and to get away from her agent and band for a bit. Dressed in a pair of shorts with extreme destroy along the front and backside, as well as a sleeveless haltertop with the word: Love Me, scrawled across it in pink lettering, she is currently people watching from behind a pair of stylish shades. In her lap is a notebook and a pencil, scrawling out words along the lines when the inspiration comes to her. The tall man with the familiar shield catches her attention, causing her to peek over the rim of her shades to get a better look. "... woah." She breathes out to herself.

There's a low humming overhead -- one tiny blue shark is skating in for a landing nearby Steve and his oversized mutt. The diminutive and fairly demonic looking youth is dressed very brightly -- purple and silver miniskirt paired with a black tank swirled with a glittery galaxy-print design, gleaming (and slightly glowing) metallic boots, chunky silver wristcuffs, very bright metallic makeup highlighting hir blue skin and enormous pitch-black eyes. The boots, at the moment, are hovering -- or were hovering, moments before ze glides down from airborne status to a neat and solidly more grounded stop beside Steve. "I come bearing refreshment." The sharkpup has to tip hir head way up to look at Steve, holding up a condensation-frosted Evolve takeout cup toward Steve, rattling with ice and filled with lemonade speckled with something leafy and green.

It's quite a walk to Tompkins Square Park from the Morlocks Sewer fortress but sometimes you must struggle for your art. And Marrows art happens to be getting wasted and this particular park was the meeting place chosen by the charming pair of walking adverts for steriods that are lazily engaged in something between sunbathing and drug dealing. Showing off a variety of Eastern European prison tattoos

Her own attire is all dirty black leather, like a Mad Max cosplay, and she hands over an unusually expensive looking briefcase in exchange for a more nondescript backpack. With a casual shrug Marrow wanders off the grass and starts along the path, pausing for a moment to light a home rolled cigarette that stinks of the cheapest in too old tobacco. It just barely covers the faint smell of sewers.

"Merci beaucoup, B. Your timing is impeccable." Steve flashes the small blue person a warm smile, accepting the cup. The dog wags her tail vigorously and shoves her massive head under B's recently freed hands. "Just when I was about to resort to a water fountain, reinforcements arrive!" While he is thus distracted with cool, refreshing beverage, his dog has transferred her attention to the young woman sitting on a nearby bench. The dog deposits her head in Allison's lap, imperiously demanding attention. "Oh! I beg your pardon," Steve says tugging his dog back. "She should know better than that. Manners, Zenobia!" Though in his backpeddling Steve has perhaps underestimated just how crowded the paths are at the moment, and he bumps none too lightly into Marrow as she passes by.

There is a loud squeal of surprise from Allison as the dog flops her head into her lap. She freezes up visibly, hands out and ot the side so not to startle her. Her eyes widen as she looks to Steve for a moment, then says in a nervous stammer, "It's cool. No bigs." Her eyes move to the blue flying like creature, then over to Marrow who easily catches her attention. Chewing on her bottom lip, she sinks back into the bench a bit, curling her arms about her stomach.

"I figured after today you could -- probably use it." !B's nose twitches, eyes briefly widening as Marrow nears. Ze takes a small half-step back, gills fluttering at the squeal from Allison. Hir eyes dart from the osteokinetic to the --

"-- Woah." Briefly, the hairless ridge of hir brow hikes slightly upward. "Don't I know you?" Ze is rocking slightly forward onto her toes, peering a liiittle closer at Allison.

Most people would have instinctively stepped back to make space for that iconic shield, let alone the shields owner, but Marrow is not most people. She even just about manages to remain standing as much through sheer force of will as physical might. A cloud of the foul smelling tabacco smoke is blown over a shoulder. "A-fuckin'-hem," she tilts her head enough to glare at Allison. "What?"

"Oh gosh!" Steve takes a rapid sidelong step, turning as he does so, weight settling lower as though he expects a fight. The shift in his stance is fleeting, though, and he's blushing as he straightens up and sees who he bumped into. His eyes linger -- unflinchingly -- on the bony protrusions on Marrow's face. "Lo siento, are you quite alright? The lemonade has gone to my head, and I haven't even started on it." Zenobia, for her fickle part, has wandered over to sniff at Marrow. Then at her backpack. With great interest. Steve glances back at Allison and B. Then at Allison again, a slight wrinkle between his brows as of incipient recognition.

"...Nothing." Allison says softly at Marrow's glare as her fingers give light tugs along the bottom of her shirt nervously. At B's question, she clears her throat and inches up to her feet now that she is dog free. "I don't know, I've never met you." She gives a nervous glance to the most famous of Avengers, then quietly says 'excuse me' as she heads off from the three, sliding her hands into her pockets.

!B's brows inch juuust a little higher at this response, then flatten back into place. She takes Allison's vacated place on the bench, leeeaning forward and reaching out to scritch at Zenobia. "It's okay, pupper," ze coos -- maaaybe a little more to herself than the dog, it's kind of quiet, "not everyone can see past scary-looking. -- I /swear/ I didn't spike the lemonade." Though, looking up, she adds uncertainly: "/Should/ I have? It's been a /day/." Hir gills flutter again when she looks over at Marrow. "Maybe," she suggests -- and now it's inching almost toward amused, "they just didn't like dogs."

"Gettin' slow old man," Marrow taunts with dry amusement, blowing a smoke ring off to the side. "If you didn't know Sparkles and the two Lil Blues I'd have been tempted to start something, see just how true the legends are." She lifts the bag up out of reach of Zenobia, tucking the strap over her head to keep it out of the way. "I. However, am fine 'cept when people stop suddenly in the middle of the path." She glances at B, then snorts. "You want the drink spiked I can sort you out. For a fee o' course."

Steve's blush deepens, likewise his frown -- which looks rather more confused now than anything else. He steers Zenobia out of Allison's way as she departs. "Once again, I apologize for my dog -- she's quite friendly, but also a ham. You have a lovely evening, friend." To Marrow, he bows his head. "I can hold my own in a fistfight, but /legends/ -- well, that depends on whose stories you've been listening to. I do regret slamming into you, though, I should have been watching where I was going." He takes a long sip of the lemonade. "It's delightful as is," he declares. "And I appreciate the thought, but spiking my drink is a waste of alcohol, really. It's the kind of day where I /wish/ spiking my drink had an effect." His smile is a little rueful, a little self-conscious.

"It's alright." Allison says in a soft, assuring voice to Steve as she gives a pause, then walks away from the trio to give them space. She rubs the back of her neck for a moment before she slips it once more into her pocket. Her sneakered foot kicks a stone in front of her a few paces, angling for another bench. Is also appears she forgot her notebook amidst the distraction of the dog and the group. It's open with a number of lyrics scrawled across the paper in swirly, perfect cursive.

"The legends are overrated, home-grown still beats made-in-a-bottle most of the time so far as we can tell." Yoink! Quick and surreptitious while Steve talks to Marrow, the notebook is flipped closed, slid off the bench to tuck away into the back flap of !B's messenger bag. Only once this is done do hir fingers snap, as if in sudden remembrance -- "Oh! I know. She sings that "Dazzler" song! Shame she's not fond of freaks, I totally would've scored Pa an autograph. He could use some cheering up this week." Her head bows, brows pulling slowly in together. A little more hesitantly: "... Are you worried?"

Marrow laughs. "Alcohol? Who the fuck spikes a drink with alcohol?" she wonders. "Ten year olds maybe? Nah I meant a shot of liquid horse tranq. Should be plenty strong enough even for you." Another laugh, although without any real warmth. "Dazzler? Sounds like the name of a stripper."

"Oh! I /knew/ she looked familiar." Steve glances in Allison's direction again, briefly. "Well. Yes, but not any /more/ worried than I was before. It was just the prosecution's questioning -- really ground my gears." He blinks at Marrow. Blinks again. "My word! That.../might/ work, I guess. I've never even considered it. I think I'll pass, though. Seems like the kind of thing I don't want to try out when I have to be in court the next morning."

!B's nose wrinkles up at Marrow's comments. "I feel like under the circumstances --" But this breaks off when Steve says much the same thing, and ze just nods along with the comment about court. "The last thing we need right now is Captain America showing up /totally/ high. Maybe when this is all /over/. As much as it's -- ever over." One eye squinches up, and ze cocks her head curiously at Marrow. "I don't get it, though, are horse tranquilizers actually -- /fun/?"

"Sometimes," Marrow assures. "Others it's a bit like you're trapped in a waking nightmare. Part of the fun is guessing which you'll wind up in." She shakes her head. "I still don't get why Sparkles doesn't just burn his way out. Must be all the shit they fill people with up at that school."

"Or Captain America going on a bender at the dog park, for that matter. Luci would kill me." Steve shakes his head. "Gosh, I don't think I need any more nightmares, waking or otherwise." He doesn't sound nearly as put out by this prospect as it seems like he should. "Still, I appreciate the offer. I'm pretty sure that last option has been suggested to Jax...once or twice before. I doubt very much if he'll take it now."

"It's -- probably not the best place for it," B concedes with a lopsided closed-lipped smile. She gets to her feet, hitching her bag securely up onto her shoulder. "That doesn't sound like my idea of fun but I guess everyone has their /things/." To Steve, not overly hopeful: "I should pick up some food. /Try/ to stay out of trouble, por favor. At least for the next little while."

"Something needs to make the world a little more exciting in between all the zombies an' shit," Marrow points out cheerfully. "And this particular mix is cheap /and/ gets some use when our 'doctor' needs to do a little surgery." She blows a smoke ring into the air and nods with satisfaction. "Anyway I better get going before my business associates spot us talking. Wouldn't do them any good to know." With the briefest of nods she steps past Steve and ambles lazily out of the park.

Steve gives a dry and humorless chuckle. "I'll do my best." Lifts the cup in a casual salute. "Gracias for the lemonade. C'mon, Zen." He tugs lightly on the leash to distract his dog from whatever scent she's fixating on at the moment. Then, to Marrow, "Take care. I hope to bump into you a bit less literally next time." So saying, he strolls toward the dog park with Zenobia in tow.