ArchivedLogs:Watch

Watch
Dramatis Personae Chloe, Deanna, Jack, Jax, Veronica	2015-04-21 "Challenge accepted." (Immediately followed by some relief.)
Location <NYC> Harlem
Harlem's gritty reputation has become less and less earned over the past decade or so as gentrification has set in. Its reputation as a hub of jazz and culture, however, is still very much earned -- throughout the years Harlem has been renowned for its contributions to music, from its swing dancing and jazz culture back when speakeasies were prevalent to the many hip-hop artists with Harlem roots in modern day. The sun has long since set, though that hasn't stopped it from being fairly lively up in this part of Harlem. A bustle of people congregating at the sidewalk seats of a bustle of restaurants, a quick drumbeat from a man on the corner playing (rather excellently) on a set of buckets, shouted conversations, beeping taxi-horns. The lights of St. Martin's Church are still brightly lit as Jax trots out of it, hitching his messenger bag up onto his shoulder. He's not exactly /dressed/ what most people would consider Churchy, bright purple-and-blue skirt over silver leggings, tall stompy boots, glittery star-dusted tee under a silver jacket. Peacock-toned hair. Sunglasses even at this late hour. He pats his bag down for keys, then for his phone, trotting off down the street as he sends off a quick text to Jack with his current cross streets, a brief message that he's ready to head out any time Jack is. It's not far from the church -- just down the street a couple blocks -- that a bright new sign has been posted. Very likely, given past events, in /response/ to the presence of the mutant-friendly church in the neighborhood. Neighborhood Watch. We look out for each other. Humans Only. Inside a standard red circle with a line through it, a silhouetted figure with horns and a tail. Leaning up against a porch railing nearby, Chloe is sipping from a bottle of cream soda, long legs crossed at the ankles and a warm smile on her face. "You are /not/ cooking. We want /friends/ still after this potluck, honey." Jack isn't exacly dressed for church either. Worn jeans, old sneakers, and a plain blue hoodie. He'd come into the city with some of his classmates, invited to hang out and just do teenager things. But there was a small mishap on the way back and Jack missed his trained. A few texts back and forth with the others and he called Jax for help, on his way to meet the professor now. He sends a quick 'on my way!' text back to Jax, crossing the street. Bumping someone, Jack's hood falls back to reveal there's no one there. He curses under his breath and quickly pulls it back up, not sure if anyone saw. He picks up the pace, lifting an empty sleeve to wave to Jax when he spots him up ahead. "Sorry about the bother, Professor," he says when he's close enough to not have to yell. "And thanks." Hitched up to sit atop the railing, one leg dangled down to its inside and one booted foot pulled up atop it, Deanna is looking between Chloe and another woman seated in a wicker chair on the porch. She just snorts at Chloe's assertion. "I," she declares in a low voice, "will bring." Drumroll, please. "The beer." Her eyes have drifted out towards the street. Narrowing slightly at the sight of the very colorful artist and the -- empty set of clothes approaching him. "{-- Well. Look who just rolled up.}" Veronica is in a black hoodie with a silkscreened graffic on the front too faded to make out, and blue jeans with knees almost worn through at the knees. Her hood is up and her hands stuffed deep into the front pocket. The hair that falls across her forehead is completely white. She looks up when she hears Jack's voice, eyes moving slowly to track the invisible boy as he appraoches. "Oh, it's /you/ again," she growls at him. There's a faint film of white over her irises, it almost looks like cataracts at a glance. "... oh my god." It's kind of a /groan/ more than a proper exclamation. Jax's pierced eyebrows lift up from behind his sunglasses as he approaches the sign. One hand lifts, too, scrubbing against the side of his face. "Can you believe people, this stuff -- do you ever jus' really wish y'had a can of spray paint?" This is the (oddly more cheerful!) greeting that Jax gives to Jack when he approaches. "An' don't worry none about the ride, it ain't even slightly a problem." Though he /doesn't/ have a can of spray paint, there is a veeeery thin bright line of light tracing itself just beneath the sign, across the metal pole that supports it. The sign topples off its support shortly after, kind of /beheaded/ and severed neatly to the ground. Though Jax's brow is only creasing again, now. "... y'all know each other?" His tone is still warm enough, though a trace of caution has slipped in as he looks between Veronica and Jack. "Even /you/ can't fuck up the beer," Chloe agrees cheerfully. She lowers her bottle of soda, head turning to look out towards the street. In contrast to Deanna's surlygrowl, she has a warm smile as she looks outward. "/Well/, now." She glances to their companion on the porch, murmuring something quiet that sends the other woman slipping back inside. /She/, though, is leaning up against the railing, calling out warm and bright towards the street: "For /shame/, Mr. Holland, bring your kind into someone else's neighborhood and start /vandalizing/ the place. Didn't your momma teach you no manners?" Coming to a stop and offering an unseen smile, Jack is relieved he's not in any kind of trouble. He makes a little curious noise when Jax points out the poster and looks it over. "Oh man..." he trails off as he reads that poster. "I know the feeling. I could probably scrounge one up if you really want it," he offers in a cheerful tone of his own. "I missed the train," he explains his reason for needing the ride and turns his attention to watching the sign get beheaded. Veronica gets his attention before he can comment further on the sign though and the teen's shoulders tense up. He's not as worried about a fight with Jax here as opposed to Shane but he isn't happy to see the other hoodie-clad teen. "We've met...ran into her with Shane," he replies to Jax, having told him about his and Shane's previous encounter with Veronica before. A voice calling out has him glancing around. When he spots Chloe, Jack arches an unseen brow but doesn't say anyting to her yet. Deanna's tongue clicks lightly against her teeth. For the briefest moment she has a very small smile at seeing Veronica, though it melts away into just a deeper frown. She swings her leg over the side of the railing, hopping lightly down onto the sidewalk. Her hands fold at the small of her back, resting just at the hem of her short leather jacket as she steps a little closer to the others. "Think you're vandalizing the wrong part of town, boys." "Celebrities get to do whatever they want, huh?" says Veronica, squinting at Jax as she comes to a stop. Though after that she does a double take and looks back up at Chloe, then Deanna, blinking several times. "Yeah we had some words, other day. Having a kind of Little Apple moment here." Her shoulders hunch tight, then relax. She takes one hand out of her pocket but leaves the other concealed. Jax's brows just lift again. "You have got t'be kidding me." He doesn't really elucidate /which/ of the others he is directing this to; maybe his incredulity is directed to all of them equally. "You can't for a second imagine this is legal. Don't a single one of you have even the /tiniest/ bit of right to keep us outta this neighborhood. This is a public city street. That sign was a joke." Not, judging by his tone, the amusing kind. "An' you're all some /heavy/ sort of mistook if you think you get t'jus' ban people from /existin'/ around you by stickin' up some hey-we're-bigots posters around the sidewalk." "You could always," Chloe suggests brightly, "call the police. Take it up with them." She's turning back around as the door to the house opens again; the woman they had been sitting with is simply dropping off a black bag on the porch before slipping back in. "I'm sure they'll be ever-so-responsive." "At least you're not trying to kill everyone's lungs again," Jack mutters in response to Veronica. He falls silent again when Jax speaks up, listening to everything he says. He nods in agreement glancing at each of the others. His brow creases at the sight of that bag and he glances at Jax. "Looks like the sign just fell. Didn't see anyone do anything to it," he remarks quietly. Deanna's eyes lock on Jax's sunglasses. She takes another step forward. "You want to be moving on. Before /we/ call the police." One hand unfolds from behind her back, punctuating these words with a hard jab of fisted knuckles to Jax's chest. "I seem to remember --" Her chin lifts just slightly, "/they/ know just want to do with you people." Veronica glares at the empty space where Jack's head should be. "That can be arranged again," she says casually. "Doesn't even have to be with cigarettes. Hey, is your BLOOD invisible, too?" Jax's lips press together, his shoulders tensing up. He reaches down to his pocket, glancing down the street to where his borrowed Zipcar is parked. "... Jack, we should prob'ly be go --" It isn't the jab of Deanna's fist that cuts his words off, though it does put a small ripple of light in the air around him. Instead, it's her words that make his jaw clench, his own hands ball into fists. There -- probably isn't a /whole/ lot of forethought put into the sudden strong cross thrown towards the lower side of Deanna's jaw, reflexive and furious. Chloe doesn't look like she's overly inclined to step in. At the least, she's just backing herself back up onto the porch, her smile still in place even with the punch the photokinetic throws. "Vandalism /and/ battery, you really racking these up tonight. Maybe your ghost needs to be looking after /you/." An unseen glare is shot back at Veronica. "Just go around trying to piss people off on purpose wherever you go, don't you?" he asks, irritation in his voice. "Real charming," an unseen eyeroll. He's starting to nod to Jax when he throws that punch and Jack looks as surprised as empty clothes can look. "Whoa," he yelps a little, blinking. A glare is shot Chloe's way though. "Lady, shut up." Deanna rocks back, head turning with a hard smack at the thwack of knuckles. She /isn't/ grinning when she straightens, though there's something almost satisfied in the press of her mouth. The hand that swipes back towards Jax's midsection is no longer just fisted but now curled around the handle of a knife, extracted from its place beneath her jacket. Veronica's return glare is totally visible. So is the GRIN under it. So is the sharp kick aimed at the back of Jack's knee. Or the part of his jeans that look like the back of his knee, anyway. Jax hisses sharply; he doesn't twitch away from the slice of knife but when it strikes, it slides harmlessly across a sudden shimmering shield wrapped across his stomach. "-- Oh my /gosh/ is you all crazy?" Now he /does/ take a half-step back, brows furrowed as he /frowns/ at Veronica's kick. Attention somewhat /split/ between Violent Teenager and Violent Adult, here. "-- Jack, you aright, this is -- we gotta --" On the porch, Chloe has opened up her bag. Kind of casually removed the compound bow from inside, nocked an arrow to its strings. One which, very shortly, is flying straight for Jax's chest. "The sign did warn you." Said, helpfully, only /after/ taking this shot. Jack exclaims in surprise and pain at the kick conncting, falling forward. He curses again when his knees hit the pavement but manages to stop himself from going face first, teeth gritting as sidewalk scrapes his invisible palms. No signs of blood so there's an answer to Veronica's question. "I'm alright...been hit harder," Jack answers, starting to get up again. He hasn't seen the knife or the arrow yet, a more focused on glancing towards Veronica to make sure she's not about to attack again. Probably Deanna is expecting this aerial backup, as well. At least, she is kind of angling herself to the side to make a clearer shot for Chloe -- waiting for the arrow to finish its path before she moves in again, bringing her elbow down to the small of Jax's back. "Challenge accepted." Veronica follows through with her step, closing to Jack. She brings her other boot up, toward his face this time. "Look, stop, we're /goin'/," Jax is saying, starting to offer a hand out towards Jack when he falls, "y'all can just --" But again here his words cut off. This time in a small choked noise, as sudden ARROW is sprouting from his (pretty! Silver!) jacket. "... sssssss." He doesn't try taking it /out/. Kind of half-stumbles forward at Deanna's blow, though it's a quick recovery that finds him on his feet again. Another shield is sprouting -- this time sort of in mid-/air/, not by Deanna but in front of Veronica's boot, giving it an abrupt very solid wall to connect with several inches short of Jack's face. "... Oh." Jax's hand is moving to touch lightly against the shaft of the arrow. His other is dropping, a slim but very searing bolt of light rippling out to burn against Deanna's knife-hand. Chloe looks rather satisfied with the new /perforation/ she has put in Jax. She fits a second arrow to her string, after this, this time aimed -- somewhere around the stomach region of Jack's clothing. Somewhere, off in the distance, there is the sound of sirens. Jack gets up to one knee when he notices Veronica coming in for a second kick. He raises his arms to defend himself but when no boot connects with him, he lowers them. The shield is a little surprising and he looks towards Jax to thank him but before the words leave his mouth, he sees that arrow in his teacher. "The hell?!" he exclaims, looking quickly towards the porch. He glares at Chloe and focuses his TK, launching the decapitated sign in her direction. It a little too late to stop the arrow already in flight though and there's a choked noise from him as he's knocked on his ass. Hood falling back, invisible eyes are wide as he looks down at the arrow sticking into him. He tries to say something but seems to be at a loss for words, just a pained noise rising from him. Deanna hisses, knife clattering from her fingers to the ground with the new burn seared into them. She reaches up a hand, grabbing for the arrow sticking out of Jax to twist it sharply, then /yank/. It's hard to say which whether the arrow or the shield startles Veronica more, but neither as much as the bright flare of light. The words that come spilling out of her in response are definitely not English and probably not polite. When her vision recovers, she turns back to check Chloe's line of fire just in time to see her second shot. The sirens, though, have her scanning their surroundings, ready to bolt. Jax's teeth grit, stifling a rather strangled cry as the arrow comes back /out/. He shoves his good hand forward and up; the palm-heel strike towards the underside of Deanna's chin doesn't just connect with force but with an incredible searing dose of heat from the fiercely glowing palm of his hand. There's another shield starting to form -- faint and flickering -- but it doesn't quite /resolve/ before the next arrow has found its home. More than a little bit stumbly, more than a little bit bloody, he reaches a hand down to clamp around Jack's wrist, fingers red and dripping where they close around the sleeve of the sweatshirt. Not really wasting time on words -- just sort of trying to /haul/ the teenager up and to his feet to, perhaps, drag him down the street if need be. There's a glimmering wall that forms /behind/ them -- just in case of any more stabbing. Or arrows. Or kicking. Just In Case of anything, really. Chloe lowers her bow, leaning back against the railing. "You'll be alright," she calls to Veronica, when the teenager starts scanning the street. "Cops round here don't take so kind to freaks /attacking/ us at our homes. They won't give you no hassle. C'mon." She nods towards the door of the house. "Why don't we get you something to eat?"