ArchivedLogs:Odds and Ends

Odds and Ends
Dramatis Personae Allison, Blink, Flicker, Ion, Mercy	2017-08-25 "It's always zooming time."
Location <NYC> Lower East Side
Historically characterized by crime and immigrant families crammed into cramped tenement buildings, the Lower East Side is often identified with its working-class roots. Today, it plays host to many of New York's mutant poor, although even here they are still often forced into hiding. It's a gorgeous night, cool and clear after a sunny-and-not-too-hot day. Around the neighborhood plenty of people are enjoying the summer evening, whiling away the post-dinner hours with dog walks or ice cream or drinks or -- -- on this small stretch of tiny side street (with Evolve just on the block and a host of mutants living nearby you knooow you have stumbled onto The Wrong Side Of The Tracks pretty quickly) it's bright and cheerful and alive. A small group of mutant kids are in the street outside one row of townhomes playing something that might be kickball or might be Calvinball, rules seem fairly optional at this point; a couple doors down a knot of people are enjoying some beers on their stoop, their laughter loud and carrying. On the front step of one well-lit rowhouse next to a small taqueria, Ion is perched (barefoot, ragged black denim shorts, his battered and beaten MMMC cut on over a grungy white undershirt) with a joint in his mouth and a guitar on his lap -- he's juuust passing off the former to a slim woman with slitted greenish eyes and a sprinkling of yellow-green scales down her arms. She takes a hit, /absconds/ inside the house with his smoke. It doesn't dim his smile any, though it does change the chords he is lazily strumming to abruptly mournful ones. Mercy's hair is out of her face and pulled into a braid that hangs over one shoulder down to the center of her torso. She looks vaguely bored even while traversing the excitement-filled street on such a wonderful evening. Without a coat or other concealing item of clothing, her four arms are on display; the upper pair have their thumbs looped under the straps of a backpack she carries and the lower two are each occupied with their own cloth tote bag. Her tank-top is gray and torn, revealing tattoos along her shoulders, and the blue demin shorts she wears actually makes it to her knees. No shoes are on her callused feet. A small nod is given in the direction of the music-playing Ion before the Morlock deviates from her path to head towards him. Her posture is slightly hunched - it is possible the backpack she carries is heavy. "'Sup?" is the phrase she offers upon reaching his stoop. Flicker's path down the street is a strange one to follow, a ghosting erratic blip -- overhead, rooftops? Fire escapes? Maybe just midair? Before the blur of motion resolves into the young man himself. He's got a tote bag of his own slung over one arm -- the only one he's wearing, today, the sleeve of his green quick-dry shirt pinned closed at his right side. Maybe he's compensating for Mercy's blatant excesses. He has on black hiking shorts, black sneakers. A quick smile for Ion. "No action for you tonight?" His chin lifts in a cheerful nod to Mercy. "You come to fight?" Maaaybe hopeful. A swirling purple portal opens on the sidewalk near the stoop where Ion sits, and Blink steps out. She carries an Aperture Science gym bag over one shoulder and wears uncharacteristically form-fitting clothes: a short-sleeve athletic shirt and knee-length leggings, both black trimmed with pink, and pink cross-trainers with black piping and laces. Her long black-and-magenta hair is tightly braided and coiled up at the back of her head. "Buena noches!" She waves excitedly at Ion and Flicker, and Mercy for good measure, her smile going a little shyer for the stranger. "Am I early? Late?" Ion's strumming has slowly morphed into /actual/ singing, his strong deep bass quiet, at the moment, distinctly not-English words sounding vaguely lullaby in tune. It cuts off as people drop by, APPEAR, poof into existence beside him; he looks up with eyes wide and wider. "YO shiiit." /His/ smile is a little manic; he /thrusts/ his guitar at Mercy just a moment before he -- vanishes. -- and reappears again to one side of the stoop he'd just been sitting on, bouncing excitedly on his toes and CLAPPING Flicker on the back with a hard jostle. "{/Shit/ motherfuckers} you all just the fuck on time." And momentarily he's back on the stoop -- a more standard way, this time, grabbing its railing and vaulting himself up over it to resume a seat on the /top/ stair this time. "You all come by to throw /down/? Shit's just getting started." The arrival of Flicker is an unexpected occurrence on Mercy's agenda and the four-armed mutant raises a brow at him, ready to respond just in time for /another/ teleporter to arrive. She closes her recently opened mouth to hunch slightly and let out an annoyed sigh before turning to look at Blink when Ion suddenly throws a guitar her way before /disappearing/. "Oh, shit, what the /fuck/, Mongrel?!" she yelps in surprise before quickly unhooking her thumbs from the backpack straps and catching the musical instrument, the action causing it to thrum with tones and Mercy to stagger a bit. When the mutant reappears on the upper step, she grips the guitar by the neck in one hand. "Yo, what the fuck? You know /what/? /What/ the fuck? /Good evening/. Fuck this shit, I'm ready to get in the ring." She spares a glance towards Flicker and then Blink. "Who're your friends?" Flicker sucks in at his cheeks, biting down at their insides to not-quite-manage-to stifle a quick burst of laughter. "{You're good,}" he assures Blink. "This thing usually goes late." Turning slightly to kind of follow Ion's erratic motions. Kind of. "Ion, not even in the ring yet and I think /someone/ wants to punch you." He's tipping a nod toward Mercy. In case that wasn't clear. "And yeah, I have some energy to burn. Maybe not as much as you do." "Oh, good, because I have some...well, I don't know if I would call it /energy/, but I've got /something/ to burn." Blink's smile goes a little wider when Ion disappears and returns. Then breaks into a grin that she covers with one hand. "Lo siento, I didn't mean to startle you," she tells Mercy when she's regained composure. "This is a great place to punch people! Though usually the punching happens /inside/." She nods at the building behind Ion. "You can call me Blink." "You want to go at it /right here/?" From the sound of it, Ion finds this idea /delightful/, eyes bright and smile /brighter/ as he looks eagerly at Mercy. Bounces back to his feet nearly as soon as he's sat down. The Mongrel is perched on the top step of a townhouse stoop on a none-too-savory block of the Lower East Side, Evolve right nearby and a lively nighttime sprinkling of neighborhood folks variously occupied throughout the street. Barefoot and in tattered old jean shorts and an even more battered and fraying leather vest bearing large MUTANT MONGRELS MC logo emblazoned over it, he is at the moment in the middle of a small knot of other mutants. /Excitedly/ beaming at Blink. "We don't got /strong/ rules yo punching sometimes happens where it /gotta/. Oh shit manners this Mercy --" Pointing to the four-armed woman, "these are Flicker and Blink. They didn't /tell/ me it was /zooming/ time they just show the fuck up." Despite her apparent displeasure at being left holding the guitar, Mercy bends down to set it gently against the stoop, issuing out a grunt of annoyance. "I am /not/ doing the punching out here. If I get burned, I would like that to be inside. Some of my belongings are too electronically delicate." While her tone is flat, her upper hands crack their knuckles and her body is tense. "I could use some stress reduction soon, though." She nods in way of greeting to Blink and Flicker. "I have been waiting too much today," this is directed towards the former. "I am ready to go all out." And, to Blink, "A pleasure to meet you." She even extends a hand for shaking. "Ion and I are business associates. At times." Last, but not least, she affixes the zappy mutant with her gaze. "Warning /is/ appreciated." "It's always zooming time." Very straight-faced. Flicker sets his bag down on the stoop, freeing up his hand (his only one, currently; in lieu of any prosthesis, today, the right sleeve of his shirt is just empty and pinned to his side) to pick up Ion's guitar. "Ion, man, is there anyone in this city you aren't doing business with?" He shoots a sidewise glance to Blink. Scarred face pulling into a crooked smile. His teeth catch at his lip -- just a brief moment before he asks her, "You got room on your dance card tonight, then?" "Always," Blink says, then blushes, which makes the purple markings on her face standing out a bit more, and dips her head. "My zooming /kind/ of comes with its own warning, in glowy swirly purple." She takes Mercy's hand after only a very slight hesitation, barely perceptible, giving a slight bow at the same time, which is only a little awkward. "The pleasure is mine." She glances sideways, meets Flicker's eyes. "I've got the room if you're ready to potentially come out in several pieces." Her tone is /almost/ apologetic. After laying low for a few days after being 'attacked' the other day, Allison can be seen heading down the street towards the cafe. She is dressed in a pair of snug jeans and a baggy NYU sweater that hangs off of one shoulder. Her hair is pulled back into a loose pony tail. Upon spying the familiar faces of Blink and Flicker, she heads over with a smile, lifting her hand upwards to wave, though her steps slow a bit as she sweeps her gaze from Mercy to Ion. "Yeah yeah that's legit me and them goods probably don't mix so well." Ion glances toward Mercy's bag, then the door, flinging an arm toward it in invitation. "Stop on /in/ then you tell J.C. Ion say you're good, yeah? Party's in the basement." One of his fists thunks lightly into the opposite palm, less a threatening gesture and more an excited one. "Shit /and/ these two, tonight gonna be a /night/. What you think the odds be on /this/." Now looking over Blink and Flicker with a critical eye. Which widens promptly when Allison approaches; he bounces down off the stairs again, slinging an arm around Flicker's shoulder (with a small zappy sting) to whiiirl the other man around to face Allison. "/Hey-o/ you that /girl/!" Bright and repeated earnestly to the others: "You know this girl? She do the singing?" Humming a few bars of 'Dazzler' before asking ALLISON: "Them two," One hand gesturing between Flicker and Blink, "they /tussle/, who you say gonna come out on top?" Mercy's handshake is a little lackluster; she does not seem to invest much energy into it. She returns Blink's small, awkward bow with a raised brow likely in an attempt to be polite. "I could use some zooming power. That would have come in /very/ handy today," says the four-handed mutant. "But I feel that would give me a bit /too/ much of an advantage." The words come out teasingly, daringly towards the others as she shifts the backpack on her shoulders and grips each tote with two hands. Her mouth breaks into a grin as she regards both Blink and Flicker with consideration, sizing each of them up with an appraising look. The young woman bites at her lip and then decides, "My money's on Flicker. Two hundred dollars." She nods to Ion, remarking, "Thanks for the invite. I will be sure to get ready." A brief glance settles upon Allison as the Morlock moves towards the door. Her eyes widen a small bit and her brows raise, but the eye roll comes rapidly before she turns away and heads into the building. "I'll see you lot inside." Flicker doesn't fight Ion's manhandling. Just lets himself be jostled and yoinked about until he quietly ducks out from under the other man's arm to stick the guitar back in its case. "Yeah," his smile kind of lopsided, "I know the song. Hey." Quieter, to Allison. "You been okay?" He leans back against the stoop railing. His elbow braces against the rail, fingers tapping an unheard beat in the air. "Two hundred?" Eying Blink uncertainly. "I wouldn't even bet two hundred on me." Though this is followed by a quick grin -- a small gesture of fingers toward his (missing!) right arm. "I'm really practiced at the dismemberment already. We're good to go." "Oh! Hey!" Blink waves at Allison. "This is a...kind of a fight club. For mutants. Fair warning, we have healers, but it still gets pretty gruesome." She chuckles nervously and darts another (also uncertain) look at Flicker. "I would probably bet that on you in just about any fight. /Maybe/ not this one, but only because I'm poor." She bows her head again, then straightens up to her full high, rolling her shoulders. smile growing more excited. "I hope we can live up to all this hype! It might be over /very/ quickly." "Hi Flicker." Allison says to the one armed man with a warm smile to him for a brief moment, then shrugs her shoulders upwards. "And, I guess I'm okay. Had an ex-fan go crazy on me the other day, started shoving me around and talking about how I'm a terrible person. Wasn't super comfortable." Rubbing at her opposite shoulder with a hand, she offers up a grin to Ion and his attention. "Yes, I am that girl .. the one with the singing. A one hit wonder now that my label dropped me. You must be /that/ guy." She grins. "The cute one that gets you grounded when you bring him home to meet the parents." With a look to Blink and Flicker, she looks confused at Ion's question for a moment until it is cleared up. ".. fight club? Why would you want to do that for?" She asks with a nervous look on her face. "And um.. " Does she really have to pick one? "I'd .. probably ... I don't know ... go with .. Flicker? Maybe? Oh, hey Blink, I met your sister. She is really awesome." "Why the fuck am I meeting parents?" Ion looks /bewildered/ -- then looks around the street? As though parents might accost them at any minute? "Who's grounded? Parents fucking love me." The look he gives Flicker is confident: "Jax he love me, huh? Rachel?" He hops back up onto the railing of the steps, perching there with his heels thudding against their posts. To the question of why fight club, his answer is the earnest explanation: "You get to punch on people." Flicker's eyebrows raise, but only very briefly. "That sucks. Lo siento." A small sympathetic wince that deepens at Allison's description of Ion. "All the parents I know love you." Tone serious. His hand lifts, rubbing at the back of his neck. "For fun." A small puff of laugh. "Or to make a stack of cash as a bookie. I'm sure people still make money if we end it /quick/." At this point it's no longer entirely clear why Blink is blushing. Maybe her face is just stuck that way, now. "Oh! Yes, Alice told me. She's a big fan, like I told you. I'm glad you liked her, though. She's pretty excellent." She bounces up onto her toes. "I think a lot of people here fight for fun. Plenty do it to work off stress. Or to learn to defend themselves -- to see how they really do in a life-or-death situation, you know? But it /is/ pretty intense!" There's a hint of excitement again in her voice. "Well, I'll be doing my best to surprise the bookies." She bows to Flicker, waves to Ion and Allison. "I'm going to go make my rounds...while I still can. See you inside -- or around!" "Well .. maybe I'll watch then. See if I can learn a few things. I don't know how to fight. Just be careful though." Allison says to both of them as she rubs the back of her neck, shuffling from foot to foot before she looks back a the two boys. To Ion, she says, "Just saying, you got the charming bad boy thing going on. It's kinda hot." She offers a quick smile to Flicker as well, then starts down the street. "I'm snagging a shake from Evo. I'll catch you guys later. Take care." This earns a /sharp/ rough laugh from Ion. He bounces to his feet, head shaking -- hard -- as he pushes the townhouse door open. "You hear that, friends? Bad boy." His wink at Allison even comes with a small click of tongue. "You have fun with your smoothie, /good/ girl. We go be careful inside. With the riffraff." He snags his guitar case, holding the door for the others (unnecessary though it may be.) "{Lord,}" he's saying as he ushers the other inside, "{Now I'm /damn/ ready to throw the fuck /down/.}"