ArchivedLogs:Bad Blood

Bad Blood
Dramatis Personae Nicoleta, Toma, Trib
In Absentia	2013-10-08 First impressions sometimes suck.
Location <NYC> Sunrise Apartments - Lobby
The lobby of this apartment building is shabby, to say the least. The tiling has not been replaced in quite some time, chipped and coming up in many places; there is a faint smell of mildew coming from somewhere by the stairwell. The exterior door has a large crack in it of questionable origin, and the paint is peeling on the interior walls. The elevator is often slow to arrive, though at least the thing /runs/ alright. For now. It's around 7 PM, and outside it is nice and cool. Inside the lobby of the Sunrise apartments, are two feminine figures. One of them, dressed in a gray sweater, is sitting crouched against the wall, reading a magazine. The other, dressed in a blank tanktop, pulls out a portable ash tray and a pack of cigarettes. The first figure quickly calls over to the second, in Romanian. <Nicoleta, are you sure you should be smoking inside?>. Nicoleta replies quickly, slightly angrily. <Fuck it, Toma, I'll do what I want.>. As she says this, she lights a cigarette, smoking it. The hulking figure that looms in the doorway moves with the confidence of one who lives in the building and is unafraid of what might be found inside. Trib is just home from work, probably, dressed in jeans and a blue chambray shirt that barely fits his wide shoulders. He has a bag of some sort of food in his hand, and his keys in his half-hand. Which makes unlocking the entry door and getting inside smoothly something of a hassle, and he actually /growls/ at the door as he struggles with it. Eventually, he gets the key extracted again, and moves into the lobby. Sparing a glance for the two figures in the lobby, he pauses, furrowing his brow at the pair. "No fuckin' homeless in the lobby," he declares, pointing at the rough sign that says (roughly) the same thing taped to one wall. "How the fuck did you get in, anyway?" "With my fucking key, asshole.". Nicoleta barks at Trib. Toma is quick to try and mediate things. "Uh, we live here. 207. We've lived here about..a few months now?". Nicoleta, still angry, quickly barks at Trib. "Do I look fucking homeless to you, <fuckface>? <Some fucking people..>.". She turns her rant into Romanian half way through, growling at him again. "Are you fucking discriminating against me, because I speak a different fucking language? Or because I'm from another country? Fuck you.". Trib's eyes narrow as soon as the girl flares at him, and his jaw sets with an audible shift. "I called you homeless 'cause you look like fuckin' goddamned /street rat/, an' you're sittin' on the floor of the lobby like some goddamned fuckin' junkie," the boxer growls, leaning forward ever-so-slightly. Poor Toma. His efforts seem to go unheeded. "If you've got a fuckin' apartment, what the fuck are you doin' sittin' around down here like you're on the goddamned /make/?" One eye almost closes as he narrows it in sudden, shrewd consideration. "You're not, are you?" "For your information, I find, or atleast, /found/ it calm down here. And no, I'd never meet my dealer somewhere this close to home.". Nicoleta is pretty forthcoming about this, and Toma, flabbergasted, shouts out,"We just..uh..don't mean any harm, oka-". Toma is quickly interrupted by Nicoleta again. "And for your fucking record, if I look like a junkie, you look like a fucking roid addict, so, you're one to talk.". Toma just sits there, helpless Trib barks a laugh at the return insult, although it sounds a bit breathy and hard to be mirth-induced. "I knew it. Fuckin' junkies." He turns his back on the girl, then, heading for the mailboxes. He turns his head slightly, speaking over his shoulder to the pacifying Toma. "If you don't mean any harm, Boris, you might wanna fuckin' muzzle Natasha there, before she lands herself in trouble with someone less..whattayacallit. Congenial. Than me." "My name is actually...". Toma tries to speak, but /again/, Nicoleta cuts him off. "His name is Toma, fuckwad. And I'm Nicoleta. Fucking remember it.". When Trib basically threatens her, atleast in her perspective, Nicoleta gets visibly pissed. "Okay, you're fucking asking for it.". She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a switchblade. Switching it on, first she appears to be pointing it at Trib, until moments later, she turns it onto her left wrist. Her left wrist is physically covered in bandages from the wrist to the elbow. She slowly cuts the bandages off, revealing scars all down her wrists. Toma shouts out, in Romanian, panicked. <Nico, no, don't do this, no fighting.>. Nicoleta doesn't listen, as she slits her wrist open, causing blood to spew out..and then stop in mid air, levitating around her. "I ain't gonna fuckin' remember it," Trib promises, unmoved to turn around and watch the display of temper. "Him, maybe, but probably not you. Junkies don't last long, an' fuckin' /mouthy/ junkies less time than that." He continues to collect his mail, which is just a couple of envelopes. When Toma shouts, he turns, closing and locking his mailbox with a small upward tick of his eyebrows for the levitating blood. "Neat trick," he says blandly, shoving the envelopes into his bag and moving towards the elevator. "You must be a hoot at fuckin' parties." "Oh, you haven't seen it all.". Nicoleta quips, as a bit of the blood turns begins to harden into a knife form, flying past him into the wall as a warning, sticking into it. She's about to create another one, when Toma steps in front of her. This time, he's angry. <Knock. It. The. Fuck. Off.>. The twins stare at each other for a moment, before the blood falls to the ground. She grabs her bandaging, wrapping it up, as she steps towards the stairs. "Let's go, Toma.". Trin blinks slowly as the knife embeds itself in the wall, and looks back over his shoulder as Toma steps in with more force. "That /is/ a cool party trick," he says, lifting his voice to follow after the angry girl. "Maybe I /will/ fuckin' remember you. Next time I'm throwin' a birthday party." He smiles a wide, /seemingly/ friendly smile -- only it's a little /too/ wide, and there's just the tiniest bit of tooth showing to add to its Chesire-like proportions. "Take care, now." The elevator pings open, and he steps into it, lifitng his left hand to waggle his fingers under his chin in a cheeky farewell. "Yeah, fuck you." Nicoleta shouts out, as she heads up the stairs. Toma shouts over to Trib. "I'm really, really sorry! She sometimes has moods like this!". He then runs up after her, as they head up the stairs, fading out of sight.