ArchivedLogs:Community Service

Community Service
Dramatis Personae Anole, Howl, Tatters	2013-08-05 '
Location <MOR> Welcome to the Freakshow
Wider and more spacious than many of the surrounding nooks and niches, this chill cavern is the central hub of the Morlock's underground network. With tunnels branching off in many directions, it takes a while to learn to /navigate/ from here to where you want to go, but there's generally plenty of more experienced people around to teach newcomers the ins and outs of the pathways. Here, though, is a safe place to come and relax, for what value of relaxation can be found among moss-covered walls and the occasional stagnant puddles on the floor. There's been furniture brought in, a mismatched assortment of crates, mattresses with busted springs, a few broken and subsequently repaired chairs, a folding table in a corner. Shelves along a wall hold entertainment; books, a smattering of board and card games, sometimes snacks. There's even electricity, wiring none too safe and visible in places where the wall has been broken open; the naked light bulbs flicker often and the lone outlet has had so many power strips attached it is undoubtedly a fire hazard. The Morlocks' common area is quieter today than it might have been in weeks past. There are still plenty of faces; a pair cooking some questionable meat on a skewer over a trashcan fire, a trio of children. playing with some matchbox cars (their paint faded nearly all the way off) in a corner, a girl seated on a crate reading a book. In one corner, Anole has commandeered a /couch/ from somewhere, a worn and busted thing with more grime than upholstering to it. The teenager is dressed in -- what probably /passes/ for nice clothes, for him; the slacks are /way/ oversized and fraying at the bottom, the button-down shirt has its own layer of filth it has collected. He even has a pair of glasses -- or, well, a glasses /frame/ perched on his nose. No lenses. He is sitting beside the couch, listening very /seriously/ to the boy who is lying atop it, a chubby teenager with a long elephantine trunk of a nose and a wispy tail protruding from beneath his legs. "-- was /totally/ my turn to use the computer," really a sad Windows tablet, it's probably the only communal one the Morlocks /have/, "-- but she took it and climbed up the /wall/. I can't climb up the wall." Doctor!Anole perks at this. A problem he can actually /solve/! "I," he announces to the other boy, "/have/ a tablet. You can use it." He delivers this resolution together with a very solemn HUG. Therapy: SUCCESSFUL. Tatters sits nearby, crosslegged on a table. She, too, has found a purpose for herself today: with an army surplus helmet perched on her head and a loose, also-surplus-probably camo jacket across her shoulders, and what looks like a riding crop fashioned from a stick and some duct-tape, it is GENERAL TATTERS today. Honestly, it's mostly for the benefit of the kids: she has a hint of a superior smile pasted on her face, but it's one she set up an hour ago and hasn't really adjusted since. Two hands hold the map in front of her down while she leans forwards, staring intently down at her work. Her grayish skin doesn't help her look anything but statue-still, and the only visible movement in her frame is the idle tap-tap-tap of her 'riding crop' against her knee. Howl has, over the past few weeks, grown accustomed to the /stares/ that his floofs tend to get. And he's gradually accepting that!-- which, in Howlese, means he's found a reasonably clean blanket and taken to wearing it as a makeshift cloak to cover them up with. Well, baby steppies. In between bouts of sentry duty, which he may be volunteering for a /bit/ too often, he's been spending most of the rest of his time holed up in his cavern when he isn't out getting food. Today is one of the former days; he's coming off sentry duty, half-draped in cloak - it's covering his tails, but not the rest of him - and wearing an increasingly dirty dress shirt over coarse work pants. And seeing Tatters up and in fine form, he makes his way towards her base of operations, giving a cursory glance to the map though not really getting much out of it. "Ms. Tatterhood," he nods to her in greeting, Welsh accent shining through in full force. "What has your attention today?" Anole relinquishes his /patient/ back to the mercy of the CAVERNS -- releases him pretty /quickly/, too/ so that he can vanish at lightning speed! He darts up the wall in an eager /haste/ to retrieve his tablet, returning with its case held in his mouth as he scuttles head-first back down the floor and delivers the tinycomputer into his patient's hands. After this /he/ is wearing a hint of a smile, too! He's still wearing the smile as he creeps over to join the returning Howl, sneaking his way to fall in at Howl's side. "Do either of you," he wants to know, even as he peers down at Tatters' map, "have problems you need to talk about?" The map before Tatters is not her usual one. THAT one, the hand-drawn, heavily annoted diagram of the sewers, is currently hanging on the cavern wall, with barricades and patrol routes and everything drawn on with marker or pinned on with scraps of paper. No, this map is different. It's a a fairly detailed state map of New York, criss-crossed with roads and highways. Nothing on it is currently marked, but Tatters seems to know what she's looking for. So deep in concentration is she, actually, that it takes her a second to notice that she's being talked to. She glances up and blinks blankly at Howl as he greets her, her words slightly slurred as they pull against her fixed smile. "Hey! Um. Nothing, just, terrible ideas. How was your watch?" One of her eyes swivels to fix down on Anole as he scoots into view, eye level rather lower than Howl's. "Um, I dunno. But, when are you going to the school, next? I need to, talk to some people, I think." Howl is only too glad to move an arm aside to make room for Anole, said arm moving to rest lightly around the boy's shoulders. He nods briefly to Tatters' answer, giving the map another look-over before deciding that it isn't going to make much sense to him. "I believe the phrase is, 'All's quiet on the Western front'?" He even cracks a bit of a smile at what passes for a joke. "A few mice, which I dealt with valiantly, but otherwise it's as still as it has been." Anole's shoulder gets a gentle little pat, then, and Howl looks down at the boy with a warm smile. "As much as I appreciate your concern, Master Anole, I wouldn't burden you with my issues. You should worry about yourself and your young friends." "I'm worrying about /everyone/," Anole informs Howl very seriously, "someone needs to. It's OK, I have it worked out, see, so I stock up on lots of worrying /here/, and then I go collect hugs at the school. The hugs cancel out the worrying so I have more space again." Perhaps by way of demonstration, he snakes an arm up around Howl's waist for a quick squeeze. His attention falls to the map, studying it seriously. "Are you leaving again?" He /frowns/ at the map, then frowns at Tatters. "I don't know, probably --" His cheeks colour faintly darker, "-- probably going to see Peter and everyone in a couple days? Ish? Maybe? I don't plan these things so well. Do you need me to go sooner?" "I might be, but that's not what this is about. I'm going to have to go do a thing, but I need to, like, figure out how. If I do it *right,* maybe I can even come back afterwards." Tatters' head barely moves as she speaks, levelly, one eye fixed on each of the split-level Morlocks. "And, um, I might. If that's okay. I need to talk to Kisha about my armor, and Peter about getting me a thwippything or two, and other people about other stuff. We lost Nox because I wasn't prepared, and that's not happening again. Howl." Her right eye leaves Anole and swivels up, so both are looking up at him sternly. "You are hereby ordered to tell Doctor Anole about your worries. If you don't talk about them, YOU won't be prepard. Um." She looks back down to Anole again, her eyes drifting slightly across her face, her head itself not moving an inch. "How *is* your doctoring going?" Howl gives Tatters a surprised sort of look, eyebrows lifting and eyes widening a touch. "Ah," he begins, simply. "With that being the case, perhaps I should make an appointment for a future date?" Anole gets an uncomfortable sort of smile, though the squeeze is returned with another little squeeze of his own, and he then turns his attention again to Tatters. "Although I suppose I should ask, what exactly are we going to be preparing for?" His head tilts to one side. "I will note, in my defense, that any lack of preparation on our part was due to a lack of /warning/. Whereas it seems you have some sort of--" Frowning, there, as he gets some /inkling/ of what that preparation may be for. "Are you plotting a rescue mission?" "I have a pair of thwippythings," Anole offers, shyly holding out a wrist and pulling back one dirty shirtsleeve to reveal its black wristwatch-esque straps; he's barely taken them /off/ since the day of the attack. "But um. They're hard to -- it's easy to splat yourself into a wall." He tips his head back to smile up at Howl. "I'll totally book you an appointment! I'm even," he confides this like it is a huge excitement, "going to get a new clean blanket to put on my couch. Um --" His nose crinkles as he looks back at Tatters. "I've made appointments for a lot of people. Everyone's been kind of jittery? And I don't want anyone /forgotten/ but, um, I'm worried that I'm not. A very /good/ psychiatrist. I did read two whole books about it though and I gave away /so/ many hugs." Which is evidently in his mind the cornerstone of Good Psychiatry. His eyes widen at the thought of rescue mission. "Don't die." This is stern! "Doctor's orders!" But then, a little more uncertain: "... how are you going to get them back?" "Yes." Tatters answer is simple, and she pauses for a moment, her stare blank, before she blinks and leans back a bit so that both of the other mutants fit in her field of view. "Um, I don't know how yet. I'm trying to figure out something that won't just get everyone shot. And I don't know if it's 'we' yet, but Howl," her mouth shifts into something approximating a more genuine smile, "You should be prepared just sort of in general? It's good practice." Turning her gaze back down to Anole, even moving her head this time (with a slight, barely audible creaking noise, as though she was subconciously thickening her skin while sitting there), she looks at him a moment and manually adjusts her smile into something even more friendly, her brows shifting in concentration as she tries to get it right. "I don't want to swing around, I just want to thwip people. It's better than hurting them. And you /need/ yours, I want to see if the schoolpeople can make more. And," her smile creaks back to a serious look, and she nods seriously. Everything's very serious now. "I think you're being a great doctor. And it's important work. Please keep it up." "I'm sure you're a fine psychiatrist, Anole," Howl offers, reassuringly. "My only concern is that... you're potentially taking a heavy bit of responsibility on your shoulders. It's no less appreciated, but one of the things that worries me is the well-being of yourself and the other children here." He frowns mildly, there, looking down his nose at the floor. "I understand the necessity, but it still concerns me, particularly given the Incident." Pinching the bridge of his nose, there, he scratches a bit at his eyes - gently - and shakes his head. "In any case." His gaze falls on Tatters again, head cocked to one side. "Are you saying you're not certain whether /I'll/ be going, or you not certain that you'll be accompanied? I assure you, the latter most certainly isn't an option." With that, his voice takes on a firmness that he doesn't often employ. "At best, the idea is foolhardy, and won't get us much further than we are now." "Getting shot definitely -- that doesn't -- sound like a good plan. You should keep avoiding. That plan." Anole shifts his weight to lean more on one foot -- leaning more against Howl's side in the process. "You can't go alone." Do you hear that? That is SERIOUSNESS again! Right there in Anole's tone. It's very firm. "Because then you'd be dead too or in their terrible mutant-cages and that's -- don't do /that/ either. I can talk to people. At the school. Um, when do you want to -- meet with them?" He shrugs a shoulder, then, glancing up at Howl again. Lifting his shoulder once more, not so much in a shrug this time as just a slow flex. "I have strong shoulders, it's okay. I just --" He drops his gaze now down to his (bare) toes. "It's -- really easy. Down here. For people to just get -- forgotten, you know? I don't want -- that. To happen. To anyone else." "Um. If I *can* figure out a good way to do it myself, I will. But...yeah, that seems dumb." Tatters lets out a rueful huff, slightly more emotion continuing to trickle back into her expression as she works out of her stony reverie. "And, um, I need to figure out who I need. And I don't want to bring people if I can't keep them safe." Pause. "Not that it'll ever be safe, but you know. Um." Blinking, she turns down to Howl again. "Anole, I am almost definitely going to get shot at least a *little* bit. That is my role in this plan, to be the one who soaks up the bullets instead of other, squishier people. Which is why I need to talk to Kisha about my armor...soon. I need to figure out when I have the time to travel, but when I do I'll let you know." Pausing again, she glances back and forth between the pair, then cracks another, slightly creaky smile. "And Howl makes a good point, you need to make sure YOU don't let people forget you either. Or take you for granted. I want you to find someone to doctor YOU, and then let me know who it is." Howl removes his arm from Anole's shoulders for just a moment, adjusting the drape of his blanket a bit - still covering the tails, though he's stopped it from starting to slip - and then abruptly lowers to a crouch to bring himself to slightly more even footing with the other two. "As much as I'd like to, I'm not so sure I'm qualified to act as a doctor," is his reply, though he punctuates it with an arm looped again around Anole's as he looks to the teen. *squeeze* "My door is always open for conversation, of course, but I'd feel better if you had someone a bit more qualified for proper unloading. In /fact/." He lets out a little sigh, there, looking to Tatters in search of support. "I don't mean to derail the discussion entirely, but I've been thinking that it may be better for you, Anolen, if you were to stay at the school. I don't know that those people will return, but..." Closing his eyes, there's another sigh. "...I suppose that's the problem. It isn't at all that you aren't wanted here, but for your safety..." There's another firm squeeze, there. "Ideally we'd see if the other children would have a place there, as well, but I don't claim to know how liberal this school is in terms of providing sanctuary." "OK but -- only shot at a /little/ bit," Anole will concede. "You could bring other people to help keep /you/ safe, too. It could be like this whole circle. Of keeping /everyone/ safe." His cheeks flush a little darker green, gaze fixing downwards still. "Oh -- I'm. I mean, /I'm/ okay. I don't think we have a lot of -- doctors. Here." With Howl in a crouch, now, he can actually /reach/ the man's head; he lifts a hand to pet kind of absently at Howl's hair. "I -- oh. I mean. I like conversation." Petpet. "-- I don't know about if -- I /think/ they'd let people go. We -- don't have /that/ many teenagers." This draws a small frown from him. "Anymore. Er. I don't know if Marrow would really want to -- go to school though. But I could ask them." He fidgets slightly uncomfortably. "I don't know if /I/ want to stay there, either. Someone has to look after everyone right /here/." Tatters nods, creakily and slowly. "That's another thing I need to talk to people about. Um, their people and our people. The kids, at least, should be as safe as we can make them." She doesn't frown, but the lack of movement in her face communicates a similar sentiment nonetheless. "Esepcially if we do a rescue thing and then they come after us again. And Marrow, um." Blink. "I guess she can decide for herself." /Hairpats/ get a bit of a perturbed, catlike frown, but ultimately Howl just -- accepts them. And forces a slightly more friendly expression back on his face. (so weird though) "Ah, I wasn't aware it was just for teenagers," he remarks, nodding thoughtfully, then looks between the two of them with some surprise. "I didn't realise Ms. Marrow was so young. That explains a bit." A frown there; thoughtful, as well, but then he waves a hand dismissively. "In any case. Lady Tatterhood," she got a promotion!, "I feel as though you're taking on quite a bit of responsibility yourself. I'm completely certain you're capable of it, but I do hope you know that, if nothing else, I'm willing to assist you with some of the more difficult things." He gnaws on his lower lip, babby fangs sticking out momentarily. "I know I've not been around nearly as long as-- well, anyone here. But it's important to me that I make some sort of helpful impact in our community." "I mean, it's -- schooly? It's for -- people," Anole says with an awkward shrug. "School-age-type people. I think. And I don't think Marrow's a /lot/ older than I am." He shifts his weight again, frowning back at Tatters. "-- I don't think /you/ are, either. Um. When are /you/ going to come have a therapy appointment? Because this is all kind of -- a lot of weight, too." His arm squeezes briefly tighter around Howl. "You have a helpful impact on /me/." Tatters nods, solemnly, on all counts. "I'm only picking up my fair share. I *did* ditch for a couple of months, and look what happened. But Howl, I *will* talk to you if there's anything you can do. And Anole, I'll talk to you too, once I find some room in my schedule. Talk talk talk." She smiles, though the artificiality of it lessens the effect somewhat. But she's trying. "And speaking of talking, I'm supposed to meet Lily for a thing in a minute. She's been doing some Googling for me." Unfolding her legs with an only *slightly* unnatural movement, she hops off the table and doffs her helmet, shifting her upper arms to actually stick them in the sleeves of her jacket. "I'm not going far, but please keep an eye on things while I'm gone." Anole's reassurance does get a wide, if somewhat shy smile from Howl, with an accompanying reddening of his cheeks. "Well, I am proper chuffed to hear that." And another squeeze for Anole! The smile is short-lived, though, to give Tatters' words the weight they command, and he's nodding quietly at her assurances. "Please, do," he confirms. "If it's within my power, I shan't refuse." Something about her last remark gets a slight confused frown, and as Tatters is getting herself situated to leave, Howl is leaning in to whisper conspiratorially to Anole. "Who is Lily, and why is she frowning on Lady Tatters' behalf?" "Okay but I'm totally holding you /to/ that. You're getting therapized before /and/ after the getting shot at part." Anole detaches himself from Howl's side so that he can dart forward an leave Tatters with one (1) /hug/, like a little preview-taste of her Mandatory Therapy. He scoots back towards Howl with a somewhat perplexed expression. "Lily's Tatters's sister but she's not fro -- oh. /Oh/, um, googling isn't --" He reaches to take Howl's hand, his expression abruptly very serious. "Come with me," he says earnestly, "I think I need to teach you something."