ArchivedLogs:In Which Rocks Are Climbed And Fights Are Planned

In Which Rocks Are Climbed And Fights Are Planned
Dramatis Personae Dante, Flicker, Taylor	2016-06-14 "First rule of Fight Club is tell everyone you like about Fight Club."
Location <WES> Croton Gorge Park - Westchester
Situated on the east bank of the Hudson, this large park offers events year-round and a plethora of activities for nature lovers. With playgrounds, facilities for camping and swimming, boating and fishing, plentiful trails for hiking, biking, horseback riding, cliffs for rock climbing, grounds for winter sports, and ample ground to just sit and enjoy the weather, these park grounds are a great place to relax year-round. The grounds are well-tended, and with a host of avian and herpitological life, early mornings often find animal lovers scoping out the grounds in search of a glimpse of some rare bird or lizard hiding in the trees or rocks as well. It is a gorgeous spring day, bright and sunny and not too hot; the pleasant weather has brought people into the Outdoors in force. Biking, jogging, riding, sports-ing in plenty; the trails and fields and woods are full of people -- enjoying the weather, escaping the unrest in the city. Along this particular stretch of shaded foresty cliffs, Taylor is happily doing /both/ these things. He is minimally dressed, in quick-dry black and blue hiking shorts and bright blue and yellow and black climbing shoes, a harness around his waist, rope looped into the belay device there. His lack of shirt makes the enormous multitude of inky black tentacles protruding from his torso even /more/ noticeable than they would be anyway -- some wound around (and around and around and around) his waist, some hanging lazily from his shoulders, a couple stretching up to cling against the rocks. "{See,}" he's explaining in casual Spanish, "{it's actually just as easy to grip -- you just have to get used to the way the tip curls.}" Not far /up/ the face of the rock, right now, Flicker (in green athletic tee, black shorts) is currently hanging -- by the rope looped into his own harness, by his chalked-up fingertips, toes of his (mostly plain boring black! Though there are slight green highlights) climbing shoes wedged in against a solid foothold so that he can watch Taylor. His other arm is feeling carefully against the rock -- slow, stiff, uncertain, mechanical. Very mechanical -- the arm in question is very distinctly Not Organic and not making any attempt to look it. Also pretty tentacley, though unlike Taylor's noticeably mutant appendages, Flicker comes by /his/ tentacle by distinct means of Science, a segmented prosthetic limb (brightly decorated with multicolored metallic dragonflies all down its oilslick-rainbowy black length) in place of his right arm. He's watching the younger boy's limb move (far more naturally), slowly trying to replicate the movement to find a good grip. /Get/ a good grip. "{/You/ make it look easy.}" His grumbling sounds fairly good-natured, at least. It had been a good many hours that Dante had been spending time in the large clearing of the park, seeming almost completely out of place in the midst of a group of elderly, mostly asian ladies and gentlemen dressed in a mixture of white, black, and grey Changbao. In the group of about 15, he was the youngest by far. He was the only one not dressed for the occasion, clad in gym shorts and a black beater, with older, worn in running shoes instead of traditional Tai Chi Soles. And yet, there he was, in the middle of the pack, not only keeping up with the technique of the elders, but possibly even surpassing them in form and finesse. He was the first in the group that day, beginning early that morning and continuing his Tai Chi practice throughout the day, even as others joined in, took breaks, and left...He was there, seemingly unstoppable in his slow, dance-like movement...until, that is, a pair of rock climbers began their trek up one of the cliff faces. He felt them before he saw them, honestly, but as they came into his view, he took the time to finish up his current Yang-24 routine, before breathing in slowly, and bowing out of the group. He makes his way now towards the edge of the clearing, gathering his duffel bag and a medium sized white towel. He wipes his face with the rag, before slinging it over his shoulders and making his way towards the cliff face to watch the two with interest. As he came closer to the two, he nods to himself... yep, that was definitely...oh shit...what was his name? Tyler? Timmy? While he couldn't remember the name, he recognized those lithe tentacles anywhere... "{I've had a lot more time to practice,}" Taylor answers lightly, a second of his multitude of limbs sliding out to slip beneath Flicker's mechanical one, prop it up, guide it into a more stable position. "{You're doing fine.}" One of his hands is still on the rope, ready to pull it taught if necessary -- though he doesn't /look/ overly concerned about the prospect of Flicker falling. He doesn't turn, as Dante approaches, eyes still on the other man up on the rocks, but his lips twitch slightly upward, head tilting to the side. "It's Taylor," he offers, evidently unprompted. "And they /are/ pretty hard to forget, aren't they?" There's a touch of amusement in his voice, with this. "Do you climb?" "{Well -- yeah. I have to admit, it does feel pretty good just to --}" Flicker doesn't actually finish the sentence. Doesn't actually need to, really. Not with the pleasant ache of his muscles, the pleasant /warmth/ in his mind, bright and pleased to /be/. Here. Even if somewhere underneath it there's another ache -- fainter, smaller, twinging with a loss he also doesn't name. His head /does/ turn, quick, at Taylor's sudden switch back to English. Puzzled-furrow to his brow, puzzled-twitch in his mind. "-- Huh?" His fingers slip off the rock -- catch at it again just as fast. "Oh -- hola. Sup." The smile that spreads across his heavily scarred face is warm and quick, though soon hidden as he turns back to the rock to regain his footing more securely. Rolling his eyes slightly, Dante smiles wryly...of course...telepathic, too... AManhattanistwopartsbourbononepartsweetvermouthtwodashesofbitters, namedaftertheareacodeforManhattanitself, 212.Amartiniusesdryvermouth, adrymartiniisnovermouth, aperfectmartiniisamixtureofsweetANDdryvermouth, thoughthosearen'tverypopular, sonotalotofbartendersknowaboutit... When he didn't perticularly want to be read, he'd learned a nasty little trick from the Professor; overload the telepath's mind with fast, useless information; count rapidly, start thinking about silly trivia, ect...if Taylor would read him again, perhaps it would be a hint that he didn't quite enjoy it...Or maybe he wanted to know more about random bartending trivia, who knew... "Taylor, that's it! My apologies for forgetting!...Climb? can't say I've ever tried...least, not without ladders and building faces," He replies with a wry smile. His eyebrows widen slightly as he noticed the other climber slip slightly yet suddenly, but making a very impressive save, he worried not. Dropping his duffel bag and grabbing both tails of his towel, he looks up to them and calls out once more. "That an offer to join?" he asks, smiling slightly. Taylor's fingers clench tight around the end of the rope, his snakelike limb pressing a little more firmly up against Flicker's as his eyes close. "Uh --" For a moment he falters, not answering -- it takes a second before his head shakes, teeth dragging against his lower lip when he opens his eyes again. "Uh -- I mean, sure, if you -- want to try I'm. Sure you could. Nab one of our. Harnesses. YO. Flicker. You want to hop down, show this dude how to tie in? -- You used to teach, yeah?" Flicker's arm presses gently back down into Taylor's. Head turns a moment later, slight crease between his brows. << {Hey, man, you okay?} >> comes on a quiet wash of concern -- he's looking at Taylor's clenched fingers moreso than his face. Already kicking off the rock, starting to swing down to the ground even before the question comes. "Teach? What, like at the school?" Making his way over next to the very tentacly teenager he doesn't bother with clarifying /which/ school. The School. "No ladders here," he offers cheerfully to Dante, "it's way better than that. Here, you'll probably fit this." He's shucking off his harness to offer it to the other man. There are moments of clarity during Dante's mental overload. For instance, when he speaks, when he listens to their questions...basically, when he's forced to concentrate on something else. Though, when he remembers his time from before, the memories come clearly...The drama classes, the desire to take over Logan's position as combat instructor...Logan's friendship, the fire at Zabar's...the trajedy with the woman and child...his depression...all these memories, feelings, and thoughts now flooding the telepath's mind... Outside of Dante's head, he smiles slightly, nodding at their question. "Yep, I did, actually! Not for long, though. Stuff tends to happen, got pulled away from it. Couldn't commit." He adds as he fumbles with the harness he was handed. After a few moments, he holds it up, back to Flicker thankfully. "You sure you don't wanna keep it? I think I might be able to have a go without it...just hanging on, right?" he asks, his lips curling upwards, his confidence seeping through his wry smile. << Just a fucking bitch of a headache, >> Taylor's answer comes back to Flicker wryly. << Swear to fucking God I don't know why I ever out myself more noise than it's worth. >> He unhooks the other end of the rope from his belay device, handing it over to Flicker as he takes a seat on a nearby rock, by a duffel bag of his own. He roots around in it for a meal bar, unwrapping it to munch quietly. "Life happens, I guess. What you up to these days?" Flicker squints up one eye, head giving a very small shake. Inwardly there's a more pronounced cringe, though his smile doesn't fade. << Advil in the side pocket. And you do because you're polite. >> Though somewhere under the /consciously/ thought words his mind is adding: more polite than is good for you. He chuckles, nudging the harness back towards Dante. "Oh, I'm sure I'm sure. Even the /most/ experienced climbers take spills sometimes. I mean, 99% of the time you're going to be totally fine, but it's that 1% you want the harness for, right? Like wearing a seat belt. You're /most/ likely not going to crash but /boy/ do you want it on if you do." He glances up toward the cliff, his prosthetic arm curling idly at his side. "Hanging on, yeah. Pulling yourself up. Finding new and different paths to the top. We didn't pick a /particularly/ hard route this time, but," a hint of red creeps into his cheeks, highlighting the scars etched into his face in starker lines as he lifts the mechanical limb, "I'm kind of still learning with this." Dante nods softly, attempting once more to adjust the harness correctly. "Hey, at least now you're not the only one learning, right?" he adds, his smile still wide, but warmer than before this time. After a few moments, he is able to attach the fabric closely resembling how it looked around Flicker's waist. Not wasting any time, he clips himself into the harness to the main line, grips onto the cliff face, and begins pulling himself up by his fingertips. His muscles harden and bulge slightly in his arms as he pulls his body upwards...then suddenly, as he gets a footing, he grunts and pulls his arms down in a pull-up motion, shooting his body upwards about four feet. As he reaches the peak of his jump, he is able to latch onto the jagged edge of the rocks with his fingertips...it's relatively obvious he's done some form of climbing before...he hooks his foot into a small divet in the rock-face, before looking up at Taylor. "Haven't really been up to much. Found a new job, looking for a way to stay limber, stay focused and practiced, y'know, all that jazz..." << Lies. I am a rude-ass bastard. >> Taylor sounds cheerful with this, a bright note of laughter in the reply. He's fishing for the Advil, grabbing a water bottle to down three of the pills. Chasing them with another bite of the lemon-flavored protein bar. "Guess there's a learning curve to being a tentacle monster." He waggles the tips of a few of his limbs towards Flicker. There's still a distinct squint to his eyes, fingertips pressing idly to his temples, but his brows lift as he watches Dante start to climb. "Limber. Hopefully a fun way?" Flicker just tips his hand out to the rocks, in answer, his expression deadpan. There's amusement in his mind, though -- a little bit /grim/, a little bit dark, rattling through the vast and varied ways the city provides for Keeping In Shape these days. No end of opportunity for /that/. << Hopefully a safe way, >> /his/ mind is reflexively supplying. "Practiced at what?" is what he offers aloud, as he quietly wraps his end of the rope around his waist -- much like Taylor had, he keeps a ready grip on one side, even if he doesn't /look/ (or feel, to Taylor's senses) Particularly Concerned. Licking his lip slightly, he shakes his head dejectedly, realizing how his wording may have been construed, though with a shy smile still upon his face. "Maybe not quite like that...umm, combat, for lack of a better term. Always wanted to teach self defense, but Logan was in charge of that when I was at the school. There were a few...well...not so legal fighting clubs when I was here last...haven't found anything like it since, though." He swings his body against the cliff face, reaching upwards to grip the next handhold, and hanging on with one hand, his left foot planted firmly upon another spot. "Met a few folk I'd LOVE to test my abilities against, but...haven't found the opportunity yet..." Looking up at Taylor once more, he chuckles a bit. "Wouldn't say 'monster' would be a good term for ya...you've got a good enough energy to you...I think the learning curve would be with others, honestly..." his final statement is said more under his breath, more of a light descernment on his own part...but still loud enough to be heard. Taylor's grin is bright, bright, bright, grin a stark contrast to his onyx skin. "If you don't think monster's the word for me you're about the only one. Personally, I think I'm in good company, some of the monsters I know." His eyes are still locked on Dante with keen interest. "There's still at least one -- uh, club. /Around/. Ish. Legal is questionable. But fun, hell yeah. Though /almost/ nobody can take on this asshole here." One of his smaller tentacles is making a small gesture towards Flicker. "He doesn't look like much I know but that smile'll disarm you quick as anything." "Hah!" Flicker laughs, light and easy. Smile widening just a touch, the shake of his head spilling sweat-damp brown hair over his forehead. "If you won matches on a smile I'd have /stiff/ competition." Here, too, there's a twinge of ache somewhere in his mind -- warm, though. Glittering with rainbow light. (Dark with shadows.) (Quick and warm and full of mischief.) (Small and subtle and -- just as full of mischief.) "We do know a lot of monsters, though." He's watching Dante, too. Brows lifting as well. "You /sure/ you're just learning?" Light, lilting. Impressed. Dante's eyes widen slightly, glinting with excitement at the sound of any sort of mention to fighting. Glancing down to the man below him, he grins a bit, nodding down to him. "Almost nobody, you say?" he asks, the excitement filling his voice as well as his face. "I'd love to test that, sometime! I can see that arm giving me some trouble, perhaps...but uh...hey, if you're open to it...I'd love to see how I stack up against ya!" he replies. Shrugging slightly with his open shoulder, he replies to Flicker's question afterwards. "Just learning on the environment...I do a bit of < Urban Climbing > from day to day, though..." his speech is broken slightly by the phrase he translated to Japanese, then back to English. "There's a couple people who stand up to him but." Taylor shrugs, looking over to the smaller man. "He wipes the floor with /me/ no question, no matter what arm he's wearing. Or no arm." He sounds entirely unabashed about /this/. His head cocks slightly at the brief slip into Japanese, a small quirk to his lips. "Plenty of good places to go exploring in the city these days. -- But yeah. There's, uh. Well, /our/ club is going to be starting back up soon. I don't know if you remember the shark twins from school but they run the place. They're the ones to talk to about coming by. Mostly just so long as you're not an asshole it's cool to come by, though. I'll ask them." "It's Friday nights. Put on hold for a while when zombies -- happened but. Have plans to start it again. Soon." Flicker's cheeks darken further, head dipping far more bashfully than Taylor seems, at least. "Maybe I'll see you there." "That would be awesome!" he responds excitedly. Almost too excited, as his grip loosens and he almost slips off the cliff face...but he's able to grab on with his other hand, keeping his weight close to the cliff. "I remember the twins...would I need, like, a tryout or something?" He asks, his eyes still lit with wonderment... Taylor's eyes open a little bit wider when Dante slips, muscles tensing and then relaxing again once he catches himself. It takes him a second longer to respond, head shaking as he swallows his bite of protein bar. "Nope. No tryouts. Just give me your email or something before you head out of here and I'll keep you posted on when we start back up. We're pretty harsh about kicking people /out/ if they cause any trouble but getting /in/ is easier." "First rule of Fight Club is tell everyone you like about Fight Club." Flicker's eyes have not widened, really. He's tensed, certainly -- his hand has tightened fairly instantly on the rope, tugging it quickly to one side to pull his end taught when Dante starts to slip. Holds the tension there until he's sure the other man has gotten secure again, and then eases some slack back into the line. "Not sure we're doing it the typical way, but it works for us." The smile that had never left the young man's face only grew wider with the unofficial invitation. "Yeah! Let me know, I'd love to give it a shot! I was promised a...well...more of a physical Meet and Greet with Captain America, but that's yet to happen...I'm REALLY excited for it. I could use the practice for it...if it ever happens, y'know?" Looking out to see the sun, and its position in the sky, he starts pushing off the cliff face, lowering himself down to Flicker's level, as he looked the man up and down once more. "And hey, if you ever feel like a friendly bout outside of a club, let me know, yeah?" he adds with a smile. He descends back to the ground gracefully, as he speaks up to both of them. "It's bout that time, I've gotta get to the job. I'm working over at Suds, if y'all wanna come in, you can find me here or there, usually! Thanks for letting me climb with y'all!" "Oh man that place has the best waffles. -- We should get waffles after this." Taylor waves to Dante as he heads off -- gives Flicker a wryyy smile once the other man is gone. "I don't know why people always think fighting /Steve/ is going to be such a challenge. He spends any time in Fight Club, Cap's going to be a hella disappointment." Flicker only laughs, strapping back into his harness once he's said his goodbyes. "He spends any time in Fight Club," he answers mildly. "it'll be hard to find much challenge outside. Rocks first. Then waffles."