Logs:Over/Under

Over/Under
Dramatis Personae Gino, Lumin, Nessie
In Absentia Anole, Zack	2024-07-23 "Making note: don't take you to the Met."
Location <MOR> Welcome to the Freakshow - Morlock Tunnels
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. It’s about mid-day, or is it later? Maybe earlier? Hard to tell in the tunnels. It’s perhaps a quieter day down below, a few less people than normal milling about, and only some of the humidity from the air above managing to seep in to blend with the already thicker air. Lumin makes their way into the tunnel entrance. They wear a flowery tank top, and teal hiking shorts. If they weren’t so colorful already, it might’ve been a little too colorful. They have a pair of crew socks and their black sneakers. They carry a few plastic grocery bags looped around their arms, filled with some tupperwares. “Yo! I brought the grub!” They announce, distractedly readjusting one of the bags on their arm to keep it from tearing. There’s an easy smile on their face, and an ease in their shoulders and movements that hasn’t been there since they first arrived. Theres a few healing lines of fractures that spiderweb outwards up towards their neck, originating from a point towards the center of their chest under their tank top. Their shoulder also sports some hairline fractures, but these are barely noticeable. But aside from that, while they certainly don’t skip over, there is a small hop in their step as they make their way further into the den. "You what?" Nessie, dressed in just a grungy old short-sleeved denim workshirt, is scuttling out from a side corridor, slightly incredulous -- and then slightly miffed -- as she looks at Lumin. "Aw man what are you doing back here I owe Anole a whole week of chores now." Her face is scrunching up as she skitters closer, squinting toward the fractures: "Oooof you didn't come down here by the south tunnels, did you? They changed up all the traps down there and, um, you weren't here to get the... memo." Gino is sitting at a tiny cafe table with his weed paraphernalia, wearing an (also flowery) Hawaiian shirt in purple and green with only two of the buttons fastened; he's listening to something boppy through the wired earbuds, nodding his head along as he packs a joint, heedless of the two smallish black cats using him like a jungle gym (Crassus is prowling across his shoulders; Caesar is clinging to the baggy fabric of Gino's cargo shorts.) Whatever he's listening to is loud enough that he doesn't look up until Crassus leaps down from him and heads across the floor to greet their colorful new guest; Gino looks up, yanks one of his earbuds (it does not dislodge itself even though its position among his ear spikes does not look stable), then detaches it more carefully. "...Yo," he says, a little belatedly, zeroing in on the bags of tupperware -- "Whoa, all that food? Hell yeah." Lumin’s eyebrows raise at Nessie, “You guys made a bet?” Amusement rings in their tone as they place the bags down nearby where Gino’s already sitting, and begin taking out some of the tupperwares. They bend down to pet Crassus, allowing the sparkle of their skin to distract the cat briefly. “Lucky I went down the north tunnels then—these were just accidents.” They tap their chest to acknowledge the fractures, and stand back up. They take out some paper plates—those ones you get from those really good pizza places that fall apart after a few minutes. They fish out Zack’s phone from their pocket, and hold it up briefly before placing it down on the table, “I’m bringing back back Zack’s phone, I wasn’t going to just steal it. And I did promise to bring back grub.” "Of course we did I thought that one was a lock. Weren't you going back to like, your loving bereaved parents oh my gosh did you just ditch them again, that's so cold." Nessie sounds kind of titillated by the thought, in fairness. "Man it's been forever Zack has definitely given that phone up for dead he probably needs to text his weed guy, like, every third day, but everybody's gonna be psyched about the food, what's in here?" She's craning to peek past Lumin and Gino at the table, eagerly. "Dude, this place is slow as hell, 'course we made a bet," Gino detaches his other cat from his shorts and plops him on his shoulder, twirls the end of his joint shut and tucks it into his shirt pocket, gathers the rest of his stuff out of the way (okay, he just scoots the tray so it's hanging off the edge of the table, only one inch of overlap.) Then he scoots his chair slightly to the left of this awkward protrusion and rubs his hands together (this produces a slightly unpleasant chalky sound.) "I was just gonna get him a whole new phone," he says. "Holy shit is this home-cooked." Lumin tilts their head towards Nessie, unamused, “No I didn’t ditch them, I’m gonna be heading back soon. It all actually went-” They pause, “Well. Really well.” Their smile softens. They sigh, or at least make the sound of it, “And well, I would’ve called, but I didn’t know his passcode- also!” They tap the phone screen with their glass fingers, showing off the un-responsiveness, “No dice. If he’s already gone and gotten a new one I’ll make it up to him, somehow.” They pull off the lid of one of the containers, inside is some homemade pasta with sauce. Lumin’s grin is back, “You bet your ass it’s home-cooked, secret family recipe too. My dad and I—we got ah…a little excited and made too much. We’ll never finish it all before it goes bad.” They shift and pull up a chair, taking a heavy seat, “I can’t eat it, anyhow, might as well share it. Let me know how it is.” They offer them the plates they brought. "Oooookay," Nessie says, in a very skeptical tone, "it's just, they said --" But she's glancing to Gino and then to the bounty of food, and shutting up. At least, shutting up about Lumin's parents; the food she's scuttling closer to sniff and then grab a plate. "Thank goodness you have us, right, down here we'll make any amount of food disappear. Tell your parents thanks -- uh, if you're going back up, I mean." Gino snorts as Lumin taps the screen, fishing his own (flip) phone out to hold up, demonstrating its punchable buttons -- "You gotta get a Walter White one, man," he says, though then he stows the phone away again to grab a plate. "Sounds nice, I used to like cooking with my folks." He closes his eyes to take a deep inhale of homemade pasta sauce, then cracks one eye open -- "Are you going back up?" Lumin taps their fingers against the arms of their chair, and leans forward to observe the ‘Walter White phone’. “You’re never gonna believe this.” They fish out their own, it’s not a flip but it’s one of those $30 ones you can find at a store. “Parents made sure I had this. I ah…don’t blame them.” A grimace twitches on their face. They go from tapping the arms of their chair, to the phone now. “I won’t be ditching them again. I certainly did, the first time.” They admit, weakly. “But I’m not planning on messing up this time. So, yes, I’ll be heading back up. And I’ll be sure to tell them thank you.” They nod at Nessie. They look at Gino, maybe a little sheepishly, “Thank you, too. Seriously.” They pocket the phone so they can’t tap on it anymore. "I'm really glad it worked out. I bet they are, too. Did you, um, tell them about all the kidnapping and everything, that's wild, they should get those people thrown in jail." Nessie's tail is swishing happily as she scoops pasta onto her plate, but then she's setting the plate down with a small eep: "Ohhh wait we should totally sound the," she's making a kind of batting motion that hopefully is somewhat intelligible as Striking the Gong, "everyone's going to want to get in on this." "Good!" This could be in response to anything Lumin just said, or in anticipation of the pasta; it's certainly enthusiastic. Gino does not move to go strike the gong -- he's already sitting down! -- but he does dig his phone back out to call Zack, which (though Zack's phone is about two inches away from his hand) fails. "They should," he agrees. "Or at least sue them for -- whatever people sue each other for. Emotional damages. Personal injury." Lumin winces, “Ah… yes I told them everything. Well—everything I could in the span of the last few days. I owed them that much at least.” They tilt their head side to side, “I haven’t gone deep into certain details, per se, they don’t need to hear about some of the…ah…” Their fidgeting stills, and they seem to struggle to find the words for a moment. “-But they’ve heard the important details, and most of the less important ones too.” Their idle fidgeting returns as they hesitate before speaking again. “I can send them to jail later, I think. For now. I’d like to focus on one thing at a time.” Their hand curls in towards their fractured chest, and they tap on it idly. “Maybe once things have calmed down. If I attempt to handle any more emotions I think I might shatter into a billion pieces.” They joke, expressing with their hands an outward flutter of their fingers. They grin at the mention the gong, “Sure, maybe the food can act as my apology to all those who I made lose the bet.” They look at Gino curiously, “What did you bet?” "Oooh that is a lot they've been having a ride this week, huh?" Nessie's wince is sympathetic, but a moment later her eyes open wider in alarm. "Wait is that true? Are you really going to break? Should I even bang the gong, will it -- vibrate too much and --" She's looking at the fractures in Lumin with a clear worry. "Maybe we should get some other kind of food bell." "Fair 'nuff," says Gino, shrugging, his head bobbing in blithe agreement; he has been busying himself looking through the plastic grocery bags for utensils, but he pauses to squint at Lumin with a grind of eye shells -- "Woof," he says. "Do you actually do that, is that for real? Have so many feelings you explode? The hell, man." He sighs a little theatrically at Lumin's question -- "I said no way you come back down here, I guess I owe some people weed." This is with a woeful pat to his shirt pocket where he stashed his joint. Lumin huffs out a strained laugh, “Yes, they certainly have been through a week.” They grab one of the bags and open it up, and wordlessly pass over a box of plastic utensils to Gino. Their eyes flick a tad wider at their questions, “Oh- ah, no. I was just being dramatic.” They pause in consideration, “Well, I suppose I haven’t tested it, so I guess I could…explode? It is all just glass to me…” Their voice trails off, and they wave a hand at Nessie, “Either way, no need to concern yourself, a gong shouldn’t cause any fractures, nothing significant at least. We could test that one, I have to admit I’m curious.” They grin, “Personally, my greatest fear is the day I meet an opera singer.” They joke. Lumin’s eyebrows raise in surprise at Gino’s response, “You still had faith in me even after my track record? I’m honored.” They say lightheartedly, “I suppose I’m back for a different reason than you both bet on, maybe you guys could leverage that. Renegotiate the bet.” "Forget opera singers, Ryan Black could probably reallllly wreck your day. What a way to go, though, huh, instant celebrity." Nessie is starting to get up but she shoots a very dubious look at Lumin. "You, uh, really don't know how bets..." She shakes her head and presses her lips together and for a moment almost is moving off again. She settles -- halfway, not into a full comfortable crouch, to ask, "...why are you back?" "Making note: don't take you to the Met. Good to know." Now ready to eat, Gino starts to slouch in the chair, holding his flimsy paper plate under his chin, but at the scrape of shells against metal he tacks and just readjusts himself to sit a little lower. "Bruh you were all like 'I'm not fucking this one up', 'course I had faith," he says (unable to really mimic the resonant thrum of Lumin's voice he's kind of just doing Al Pacino.) He has his mouth full, when Nessie asks this, but he tilts his head and raises his eyebrows curiously. “Could he?” Lumin asks curiously, “Would be a little ironic as well, since he was there when Jax put my hand back on. Would certainly be a way to go.” They wave their fingers again. They’re then, about to comment on Gino’s impression of them, a mixture of defensiveness and amusement on their face, but also stops at Nessie’s question. Much of their idle fidgeting suddenly fades, and they look curiously between Nessie and Gino, “To return Zack’s phone..?” They say, and it sounds genuine enough. Their eyes dart away, briefly, “These things are still expensive right? They didn’t magically go down in price in the last four years?” They joke, lightly. “Also! I- ah- I’m allowed to leave the house every once in a while, if I want to.” This is another attempt at a joke, but maybe it sounds more like they’re trying to convince someone of that fact. “Most of my family are out of the house right now anyways—work and stuff. Figured it would be a good time.” They wave a casual hand, and some of their idle tapping returns, this time on their arm, “I should be on my way back soon anyways.” "Why wouldn't you be allowed to leave the house? Did you have to sneak out while they were out, I thought you said they were chill." Nessie is saying this I thought you said to Gino and not Lumin, though she turns back to the latter to ask. "Are your parents keeping you captive, too, because if this is like a regular thing that happens to you, ummmmm." "Once in a while?" Gino says, overlapping Nessie; he pauses to lick some sauce off one finger before he adds, "Are you or are you not a whole-ass grown adult." “Wha- yes I’m a whole-ass grown adult. I just said I’m allowed to leave, they’re not keeping me captive.” Lumin explains, defensively, voice pitching a tad higher but not louder, “And no I didn’t sneak out. I made sure they knew I was heading out for the day.” They wince, “I didn’t want to risk them ah…thinking I’d left again, or something.” They then attempt a small, reassuring smile, “It’s been good, really.” "Uhhhhokaycool that's, cool," Nessie's tone is ticking a little more chipper, her smile a little brighter. "Glad it's good then." She picks her plate up, lifting it indicatively as she adds, "Thanks again! Bunches. And, uh, brace yourself, I don't want any accidental cracklings." She's holding her plate carefully as she scurries off, pausing on her way out to sound a thrumming, resonant note from the gong before disappearing down a side tunnel with her food. Gino looks like he's about to argue some more, mouth opening and brow furrowing with a grinding crrrck sound, but after a moment he follows Nessie's lead, musters a broad smile (his greyish teeth clashing oddly with his greyish skin) and says, "Well! Good." He seems to know the gong is coming, for as Nessie disappears he scoots his chair ve-e-ery unsubtly backward. Lumin sighs, and offers Nessie a wave. “Anytime- thank you.” They also stand up from their chair once the gong is done ringing, “I’m gonna head back up, before a lunch rush happens—or whatever time it is.” They turn to Gino, “Thanks again, and thank Zack for me too?” They slide Zack’s phone to him, “And if you can make sure this gets to him, I’d appreciate it.” They’re about to head out, but turn, “I’ll see you around—enjoy the food for me yeah?” They offer one more wave, and head for the tunnel exits—specifically avoiding the south tunnel.