ArchivedLogs:Good Intentions: Difference between revisions
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{{ Logs | {{ Logs | ||
| cast = [[Dusk]], [[Eve]], [[Flicker]] | | cast = [[Dusk]], [[Eve]], [[Dawson|Flicker]] | ||
| summary = "{Don't worry. Your virtue is safe with me.}" | | summary = "{Don't worry. Your virtue is safe with me.}" | ||
| gamedate = 2017-04-21 | | gamedate = 2017-04-21 | ||
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"{I happen to think books make excellent snuggle partners -- hey, isn't my shoulder devil supposed to come with an angel making counteroffers? This seems unbalanced.}" Flicker closes his textbook, though. Admittedly with his pencil in it to keep his place. Leans back in his chair, takes a gulp of lemonade. "{Did you hear that, though? Being seen in public with you ups my coolness quotient.}" | "{I happen to think books make excellent snuggle partners -- hey, isn't my shoulder devil supposed to come with an angel making counteroffers? This seems unbalanced.}" Flicker closes his textbook, though. Admittedly with his pencil in it to keep his place. Leans back in his chair, takes a gulp of lemonade. "{Did you hear that, though? Being seen in public with you ups my coolness quotient.}" | ||
"{Sorry yo all the angels are out enjoying the day.}" Dusk's smile has only grown. A little sharper, a little brighter. His wings roll, briefly, a lazy half-stretch that unfolds them only slightly from their tucked-in crumpled state behind him. "{We live together, the novelty's probably worn off for him." He leans forward, extending a hand to Eve. "{I'm Dusk, by the way. You on a vampire scavenger hunt or just hanging out?}" | "{Sorry yo all the angels are out enjoying the day.}" Dusk's smile has only grown. A little sharper, a little brighter. His wings roll, briefly, a lazy half-stretch that unfolds them only slightly from their tucked-in crumpled state behind him. "{We live together, the novelty's probably worn off for him.}" He leans forward, extending a hand to Eve. "{I'm Dusk, by the way. You on a vampire scavenger hunt or just hanging out?}" | ||
"{If you're holdin' on, you'll see devils tearin' your life away. But if you've made your peace, those devils are really angels freeing you from the earth.} I saw that in a movie or something I think. Jeeze, you get to live with him? How are you not constantly jazzed all the time?" Eve can be a bit of a throwback, it seems. "See, we ARE the angels." Cue a blush, though. The girl looks a little embarrassed,"No. I'm... um... Eve. It's Eve." The girl scratches her nose, then holds up the arm with the coban, "Nah, the vampires already found me. Skipping school, essentially." | "{If you're holdin' on, you'll see devils tearin' your life away. But if you've made your peace, those devils are really angels freeing you from the earth.} I saw that in a movie or something I think. Jeeze, you get to live with him? How are you not constantly jazzed all the time?" Eve can be a bit of a throwback, it seems. "See, we ARE the angels." Cue a blush, though. The girl looks a little embarrassed,"No. I'm... um... Eve. It's Eve." The girl scratches her nose, then holds up the arm with the coban, "Nah, the vampires already found me. Skipping school, essentially." |
Latest revision as of 01:18, 16 May 2020
Good Intentions | |
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Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
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2017-04-21 "{Don't worry. Your virtue is safe with me.}" |
Location
<NYC> Busboys and Poets - East Harlem | |
A quiet, artsy spot nestled away on a side street in East Harlem, Busboys and Poets combines cafe and bookstore in a way a Starbucks tacked on to a Barnes & Noble could never achieve. The food is a solid, multi-national cuisine menu that caters to all kinds of dietary choices, and its fair-trade tea menu is extensive. Its weekend brunch tends to draw a large crowd, but there is ample enough seating both at tables and on its many comfortable armchairs and couches that at other times of the week there is never a wait. The walls are adorned with the work of local artists, and tucked in among and alongside the couches are rows upon rows of books, with a definite slant towards the political and the bohemian. A rainy morning has shifted into a gloriously warm and sunny afternoon. The streets are once again perking up with people out jogging, walking their dogs, simply taking their time doing their errands. Outside coffeeshops and cafes tables are filling up again with folks eating and chatting and reading -- or, today in Flicker's case, frowning unhappily at a textbook while he taps his pencil eraser rapidly against the mostly-blank pages of a notebook. Sitting at a sunny table on the warm and half-empty patio outside Busboys, his table is currently empty both of other people and of food. He himself is not /exactly/ nondescript -- clothing certainly boring enough in plain blue polo shirt and khakis and white sneakers, though the thick twisted snarl of scarring that takes up half his face and the very obviously mechanical arm protruding from his sleeve both tend to be slightly eye-catching. The prosthesis makes no attempt to disguise itself as flesh, either in form (segmented, tentacle-shaped, clawed at its end) or coloration (today decorated in sky-blue with fluttering pink and white cherry blossoms spiraling down its expanse.) Putting down his pencil with a faint huff, he reaches -- well, for nothing. No cup. He does kind of FROWN at the space near his elbow, though, as if maybe he'd expected a drink to /be/ there. And just like magic! A drink is appearing. Or, at least, being placed there. Dusk, rescuer of disgruntled med students, is just emerging from the /inside/ of the cafe, tray of food in hand and also two tall frosted glasses of pomegranate lemonade. One of which he's setting down riiight where Flicker had hoped there would be a drink. He sets the tray down on the table, spins a chair backwards so that he can sit in it without encumbering the enormous batlike wings that drape behind him. In similar fashion to Flicker's arm his wings are bright-coloured -- the skin shaded and veined like a canopy of leaves, the soft fur over top given a subtle highlighting of gold in places like intermittent sunlight coming through. "{You know what's a hundred times better than studying?}" Dusk is picking up his own lemonade, nibbling on the end of the straw. His Spanish is easy and fluid, his accent mostly that of right here in the city, a solidly nuyorican tint to his words. It's a day off from school! It had been doctor-time! Of course, that hadn't taken much time, and now with a strap of coban wrapped around her upper forearm, just beneath her elbow, she is hunting for something to do with her day off. Getting coffee is exactly sort of thing a hip youngster like her should be doing! At least, that's what all the teenager magazines say she should be doing. Time for a break from sweaty-jogging time. Eve is just pacing on out with something to drink when she takes note of the bat-winged man and his compatriot with the prosthetic arm. Frozen coffee in hand, she kind of stops and stares in a manner that cartoons would have her saying 'kawaii-desu' or some such. Wide eyes. And before she can stop herself, she blurts back to Dusk (even though he isn't talking to her), "Anything that's not studying?" Flicker reaches for the lemonade, nodding an absent thanks to Dusk. Eyes already turning back to his page. "{Graduating, becoming a real doctor so I can save /your/ butt every time you do dumb --}" He looks up again at the other answer given, a sudden quick smile spreading across his face. Maybe a little bit sheepish, a small flush of red darkening his cheeks. "I mean, you're not /wrong/ but I always regret listening to him come exam time." Dusk is leaning over the back of the chair that he's picked to kneel in, setting a cauliflower sandwich down in front of Flicker and taking a burger for himself. He glances back over his shoulder at Eve's answer, his own smile bright and very sharply fanged. "{See? Someone knows what's up.} And he's full of shit nobody has /ever/ regretted peeling themselves away from --" He peers over toward Flicker's textbook with a grimace, "-- infectious diseases to go rock climbing on a /gorgeous/ spring day, least of all this motherfucker. Seriously," and now he's half-turning to put this Very Intent question to Eve, hands weighing up and down with the Clear Relative Merits of Flicker's options here: "studying awful diseases, or climbing in a fantastic park with actual trees?" The teenager points at Dusk, then, and offers to Flicker,"{He's kind of got a point. You could be cuddling up to that book...}" She sips her cold drink for a long moment, then points at Dusk,"{Or you could be rock climbing and being in nature. Besides, you get to be seen in public with HIM, and that's braggable.}" Meet Eve. Sixteen, high school, her hobbies include athletics, TV, and boys. "Besides, sunlight is good for you. It... uh... makes your bones better." See. She knows meical stuff! "{I happen to think books make excellent snuggle partners -- hey, isn't my shoulder devil supposed to come with an angel making counteroffers? This seems unbalanced.}" Flicker closes his textbook, though. Admittedly with his pencil in it to keep his place. Leans back in his chair, takes a gulp of lemonade. "{Did you hear that, though? Being seen in public with you ups my coolness quotient.}" "{Sorry yo all the angels are out enjoying the day.}" Dusk's smile has only grown. A little sharper, a little brighter. His wings roll, briefly, a lazy half-stretch that unfolds them only slightly from their tucked-in crumpled state behind him. "{We live together, the novelty's probably worn off for him.}" He leans forward, extending a hand to Eve. "{I'm Dusk, by the way. You on a vampire scavenger hunt or just hanging out?}" "{If you're holdin' on, you'll see devils tearin' your life away. But if you've made your peace, those devils are really angels freeing you from the earth.} I saw that in a movie or something I think. Jeeze, you get to live with him? How are you not constantly jazzed all the time?" Eve can be a bit of a throwback, it seems. "See, we ARE the angels." Cue a blush, though. The girl looks a little embarrassed,"No. I'm... um... Eve. It's Eve." The girl scratches her nose, then holds up the arm with the coban, "Nah, the vampires already found me. Skipping school, essentially." "{That's -- } um." The red in Flicker's cheeks deepens as he runs his fingers through his hair. "{I don't think they were exactly talking about studying there.}" Sort of thoughtful. /Sort/ of amused as he looks Dusk over afterwards: "{What, who says I'm not? Maybe I'm swooning right now. Maybe I just hide it really well. You're sitting here with him are you, uh, jazzed?}" The mention of skipping school just prompts a sigh. Now he actually tucks his notebook and textbook away into his backpack. "{Everyone's got better priorities than me, I guess.}" "{The vampires attacked you for skipping school?}" Dusk is /eying/ the wrap around Eve's arm with a frown. "{Were they the special truancy vampires, I hate those guys they're assholes.}" Cheerfully: "You going to do anything interesting with the rest of your terribly delinquent day?" He just /snorts/ at Flicker's claim. "Flicker plays his cards close to his chest." The girl tilts her head at Flicker's statement,"{I... well... I... what else could it be about?}" She sips her coffee though as she pops up and down, as if prepping for a jog. "{Rar. No. Special endocrinology vampires. 65 ng/dl! But I took the whole day off from school for the visit, so I just decided to keep being off from school.}" She puts her coffee down and swings her arms as if limbering up. "I was gonna go for a jog, or maybe buy a new skirt, I dunno. Unless there's a party happening. Preferably with horribly delinquent underage drinking. But I'm not picky." A pause. "Of course I'm jazzed! Dude, he's PRETTY. Plus, I've never met such a fashionable mutant before. Or... any mutant? Or have I? I dunno. I probably wouldn't have know." Pause. "Those wings? Super-jazzable." "Phlebotomists, vampires, basically identical." Flicker picks up his sandwich now to take a bite, swallow it. "{Been a while since I've been in the loop of, uh. Delinquent -- underage drinking -- parties. But it's Friday, there's bound to be something going on, right?}" He grins over at Dusk after this, though. "Fashionable? Wow. I mean, we know some /very/ fashionable mutants but I never would've --" He waves a hand toward Dusk. "{I guess with those wings you're always well-dressed.}" "Probably have, and just not known. Not all of us wear it so openly. And many are way better dressed. Wings aside. I have help with them, anyway." Dusk reaches into the pocket of his shorts -- takes out his wallet to get a business card out of it, emblazoned with the word Tag in rainbow graffiti-esque writing, that he offers toward Eve. "{I just have a good artist. Does fantastic hair dye, too, for those of you with the standard complement of limbs.} Early enough you could probably jog then party, anyway." "Huh. Yeah. I totally get that. People tell me stuff like that all the time. I'm always like 'thanks I guess?'." Hairflip! She is soon fussing with a strand of hair with her free hand, coffee tilting this way and that. "You're a college guy, right? You totes have access to great parties. You gotta." Good thing she was there to inform Flicker of this! She tags the card, though, examining it,"Wow, this looks super-fancy, and also totally outside my budget. Does he do pieces?" Whatever she means by that. "I could use someone good with hair. I'm trying to grow mine out." "{Med school. There's parties but nobody shows up because studying ran overtime.} Tell you stuff like what?" Flicker's head has tilted curiously -- at the hairflip or something Eve's said, it's hard to tell. "{What makes a party great? I've almost never been accused of being cool so I'm out of touch with that.}" "Pieces? Are we talking guns or artwork? We're talking art, right?" Dusk picks up his burger, too, pausing to glance over Eve quickly before taking a bite. "{How long? He's great with hair. Not that yours isn't nice already.}" "{They tell me things like 'I didn't know you used to be a'... Well, you get the idea.}" The young cubana quirks a smile, pulling a chair up underneath her. She reclines her lanky frame and plays with the straw,"{Thanks for the compliment, but it's... Um... Well... It's a wig. I want to grow mine like shoulder length. I've got a while to go. I was just wondering if he did 'hair pieces' is what I meant.} How's the burger? You like pulled pork? Carnitas?" "Used to be --?" Flicker looks a little bit puzzled, here. Shakes it off quickly. "I'm sure he'd do wigs too. I don't know about his burger but they did a good job with the roast cauliflower." His smile slips a little crooked as he takes a sip of his lemonade. "{It /would/ taste better in a park, though. With some cliffs to climb.}" "International secret agent," Dusk fills in helpfully. "{But a lot of spies are hard to clock, to be fair, until you're right in the middle of some trouble and bam, out comes all kinds of high tech weaponry hidden under that wig.}" He nudges his plate closer to Eve. "Burger's good. S'lamb. {Got some kind of garlic sauce on it.} I love carnitas but I don't trust this place when they try to get too /ethnic/ they water it down for the hipsters. {They got this so-called chorizo dish in there just helllll no.}" Eve just STARES at Flicker for a long moment, an amused... slightly quizzical look on her face. "When you finish your food, how about we all go for a walk, and I'll tell you." Teenage girl suggesting college boys go on a walk with her alone? Someone needs to teach this girl some survival skills! She unabashedly reaches for the nudged-over plate to take a small bite. "{Mmmmm. This is pretty good. I don't even usually like lamb. They must've cooked it a while to make it this tender.} She does smile a bit though,"I make a mean ropa vieja, personally. My parents run a bodega, though. Stop by, try our hot dishes sometime." She pulls a cheap-looking flyer out of a pocket and trades it over to Dusk,"I didn't know the food in this place was actually good." "You're just going to take off with some strange cyborg and vampire you just met? I'm pretty sure this is the beginning of /some/ kind of movie but I don't know if it ends well for all parties involved." Flicker's tone is still light, though. "{Dusk /is/ easily bribed by a good plate of food, though. We should swing by. Gotta pick up dinner before we go home anyway.}" "{Yeah?}" Dusk takes the flyer, looks it over curiously. "{Yeah, definitely, this isn't even far. I would go much farther for some decent Cuban food.}" He takes the plate back to munch down more of his burger. "Sort of pretentious, but decent enough if you pick the right dishes." His brows quirk up, wings giving another very small flex. "Walk? You're not planning on, like, murdering us or anything?" Solemnly: "I've heard stories." "... I feel like, by your tone, I should think this is a bad idea, but I lack the experience to know why..." The girl shrugs though, her smile only slightly brittle,"Don't worry. I promise you'll come back safe and sound. {My parents, they're constantly concerned I'm going to end up dead if I'm not careful. But what's the point in being careful if you never got to live it up, huh? Nah. Don't worry. Your virtue is safe with me.}" Because they were all totally worried. "Mom just started putting out Boliche Mechado recently if you like your meat dishes." "{Dusk lost his virtue a looong time ago.} But when you walk around looking like he does all the time you get a little bit, uh." Flicker shrugs. Finishes off his sandwich. "I'm guessing you're probably being sarcastic but in our experience most people who just sit down to talk to freaks don't /always/ have good intentions so balancing fun and careful is -- a thing. Sometimes," he admits a little sheepishly, "I play the role of overprotective parent with my roomies." He wipes his hands on his napkin carefully, folds it to set it down on his empty plate. "{I am totally game for finding somewhere outdoors to relax now, though. I /guess/ there's all weekend for studying.}" Dusk shrugs -- a motion more in his wings than his arms, casual and unapologetic. "World's been a dangerous place. Sometimes. And we've already established you're a highly trained secret agent. Possibly assassin of some type judging by the wicked flair with the nail polish." He stands, plucking up his half-eaten burger and slurping down the rest of his lemonade. "{Do you even understand the concept of a weekend?} Whatever. Fun now, /lessons/ about fun later." "{I really hate that word. That's my hangup though.}" The word 'freak' is the recipient of a wince. "{You don't have to believe me, but I didn't really have any intentions. It's just... People gotta stick together, you know?}" Apparently she's just unwilling to discuss certain subjects in the confines of a business. Still, when Dusk speaks on her being a trained agent, she has to share,"You should see my stiletto heels. They have real stilettos in the heels." Right. Well. At least he has caved to relaxation! "One of us, one of us, one of us!" Yep. Throwback. Still, her brain has finally processed that she got a compliment, leaving her preen and blush a little as she not-so-covertly examines her fingernails. Flicker's brows lift just slightly, just briefly, at the mention of sticking together. It returns a bright smile to his face as he pushes his chair back in, though. "{Yeah, no doubt. People definitely do.} Gooble gobble. Now let's go before I change my mind about fun. I still have a /whole/ bag of books here." |