ArchivedLogs:Ghosts: Difference between revisions

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{{ Logs
{{ Logs
| cast = [[Echo]], [[Jack]]
| cast = [[Old-Echo]], [[Jack]]
| summary =  
| summary =  
| gamedate = 2014-11-25
| gamedate = 2014-11-25
Line 6: Line 6:
| subtitle =  
| subtitle =  
| location = <NYC> [[Lower East Side]]
| location = <NYC> [[Lower East Side]]
| categories = Citizens, Echo, Jack, Lower East Side, Mutants, Morlocks
| categories = Citizens, Old-Echo, Jack, Lower East Side, Mutants, Morlocks
| log = 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.
| log = 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.



Latest revision as of 03:31, 13 April 2023

Ghosts
Dramatis Personae

Old-Echo, Jack

In Absentia


2014-11-25


'

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.

Night has fallen over the Lower East Side and temperatures are dropping. There's an incoming snowstorm and one of the city's newer residents is quite unhappy about this. Jack has been doing better in these past few days than he ever did in Newark mostly thanks to the generosity of some other mutants but he's still out on the streets. Right now he's in an alley between some buildings. Dressed in the same old jeans and hoodie he's always got on, he's got gloves on as well and is in the middle of poking at a small fire he's built. Sitting on a discarded plastic crate, he jabs at the fire with a plastic hanger before dropping it and tossing a couple pieces of newspaper onto the flames. "I hate this season," he mutters, making sure his hood is pulled up.

Too-thin canvas shoes pitter-pattering faintly against the pavement, a young woman swings into the alley. Chest heaving, she throws herself against the brick wall as if to hide. Though hooded, wild strawberry blonde curls spill out over her shoulders and trail out behind her as she moves. Her ragged dress and mismatched military coat peg her for homeless.

Realizing the alley is occupied only moments after taking refuge in it, she lets out a tiny, feminine gasp. She turns to stare over in Jack's direction, the fire reflecting in her large, expressive eyes.

Faintly from the direction Echo came from, a few men shout. The sound of heavy, running footsteps can be heard.

Jack glances up as someone comes swinging into the alley, not expecting that at all. He stares for a moment, invisible eyes scanning over the new addition to the alley. He recognizes the signs of another homeless person easy enough and starts to offer a greeting. But then there's a shout and the invisible teen stands. "C'mon over here. I'll keep us safe," he offers quickly, getting ready for a fight even if he's no fan of them. "How many of them are there?"

Echo jolts as if to move forward but hesitates. She can't make out his face in the dark, even with the streetlights. It's unsettling. "Three," she whispers back. As the footsteps continue draw closer, she pushes herself off the wall and runs back behind Jack. "What will you do?" She pants, scanning the area around them as she cowers behind the stranger. Her eyes catch a piece of wooden debris not a foot away on the ground ...taking note of it on the not-so off chance he turns on her, too.

If he were capable of offering a reassuring smile, Jack would. But right now, he just nods. "I'll give them a chance to leave and if they don't, they get hurt," he answers. He's glad there are just three. Three he can handle. He glances around the alley quickly and takes note of all the things he could use as a weapon if he needs them. He tenses as the steps get closer, focusing and preparing to use his powers.

"She went this way," a large young man announces, prowling confidently into the mouth of the alleyway. Flanked on either side, two jock-types soon follow. Though all three college-aged young men have likely been drinking, each looks invigorated by the chase. "Fucking freak," the beefy blonde leader of the small pack spits, bringing a hand to his cheek where he must have been scratched, "I'll get you for that." Bleary eyes adjusting slowly, he laughs when he sees Jack, "Got a boyfriend?"

In the background, as quiet as a cat, Echo kneels and probes out with a little, webbed hand. Her fingers wrap around the end of the remains of a splintered two-by-four.

Jack was already angry at whoever these guys were but once he saw them and heard what they had to say, his gloved hands clenched into fists. The laugh gets a roll of the eyes and Jack shakes his head. "Right, because the only reason a guy helps a girl out is because he's into her," he mutters, annoyed. "Get lost, guys. Or else," Jack offers, a few loose objects in the alley shaking a little.

Not understanding, Echo's eyes flick around as little things begin to quake. Even the plank in her hand shivers, though that might just be her own shakiness.

"Look, we don't have a problem with you, bro," the varsity guy says, holding up both hands and continuing to step forward. His mouth twitches into a cocky grin, "But seriously, you're about to get the shit kicked out of you if you don't get the fuck out of my way." He's drunk, so his reaction time is slow. As a tell, his face contorts even before he makes a fist of his own and draws back his arm. He lunges forward, throwing a punch. The two young men behind him don't follow suit, catching wind of Jack's powers and something behind amiss.

Jack doesn't reply verbally. No, he just zeroes in on the guy talking. He's not the most powerful telekinetic but he's sure he's got enough to deal with a couple guys. As the punch is thrown, Jack counters with a hard telekinetic shove to throw the jock back towards his friend. "Now get him out of here or I'll do a lot worse," he says, reaching up to grab his hood. "Haven't you guys ever learned not to piss off a ghost?" he asks, pulling his hood back to reveal he doesn't have a visible head.

The jock lets out a beastial gargle, clasping his abdomen and stumbling back as if hit by some invisible force. One of his friends runs and the other grabs him by the arm, "Holy shit, man!" They stumble backwards out of the alley, falling over one another.

Behind him and still partially shrouded under the hood of her coat, Echo watches. She maintains a ready-for-battle stance with the shard of wood for the duration of the drunkards' retreat and though she does slump her shoulder some once their gone, keeps her weapon.

"What's the matter? Don't you guys want to be ghosts too?" Jack calls, hoping to scare them of further. He waits until he can't hear the steps nearby before letting out a sigh. "Man...that went better than I'd hoped," he remarks. After a moment, he turns around to face Echo. "Hey. Are you alright? Those meatheads didn't hurt you, did they?" he asks, tone a lot more friendly.

"Nah," Echo answers quietly, shaking her head. She watches the faceless boy carefully, "I'm fine." Slowly, she releases her grip and the two-by-four falls to the ground with a small thud. "Thank you," she breathes out, chest heaving with a sigh of relief.

Jack relaxes a bit until he realizes he's still got his hood down. Cursing, he quickly pulls it back up to try to hide the whole 'no one in that sweatshirt' thing. "You don't have to thank me," he waves it off, hoping he didn't just free the girl out. "What happened anyway?"

Echo shoves a hand in her pocket as if to emphasize it's fullness, "I jacked their shyit," she answers in a quiet, hick accent. Carefully, she moves closer. "Yuh sound young," she observes, circling slightly and tilting to try and still catch a glimpse of -what- as he pulls back on his hood, "You know it's gonna snow?"

Jack glances at the pocket and then chuckles. "Oh, yeah...that does get someone chased," he remarks in a way that might suggest he speaks from experience. He makes a surprised little noise when Echo moves closer, not expecting it. The nearby fire illuminates the area enough so that it can be seen there's no one in that hood. "Yeah...yeah, I heard it's supposed to be like half a foot."

Echo produces a hand from her sleeve. Webbed fingers outstretched, she takes another slow step forward to close the gap between them. Calmly, but boldly, she moves to try and gently touch the side of his face ...if he has one. "Your fire ain't gonna cut it, y'know." Her eyes don't seem to be sure where to look.

"Wait, you're a mutant too?" Jack asks at the sight of the webbed fingers. He makes that surprise noise again when Echo touches his face. It can't be seen but he does indeed have a face. The mention of the fire gets a little sigh and Jack looks towards it. "Yeah, I didn't think it would but it's better than nothing..."

Echo runs the back of her fingers along Jack's cheek, drawing out some of the landscape of his features for herself before drawing her hand back. "I am," she answers with a nod, "There's an abandoned deli. On the end of Pitt right before Rivington. Shouldn't be more'n a few minutes from here. You should be able to get in around back. It'll be warmer for yuh, there." A wisp of hair floating up into her face, she retreats a step. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't really a ghost," the redhead explains as she flourishes the hand she'd touched him with, lips curving into a playful smile.

Jack has some handsome features but he is young, only about sixteen. He listens to the news about the deli and glances around. "Okay...umm...where are those places?" he asks. "I'm uh...new to this part of town," he replies. He's new to town in general. He ends up chuckling though. "No, I just use the ghost act to help scare off trouble sometimes."

"Well, it worked," Echo lets the smile slowly fade, gesturing, "Take a right. It'll be up three or so blocks, I wanna say." She pauses, considering him, "You can read streets signs can't yuh?" For all she knows, he very well can't. Plenty people can't. "You got a real weapon? For'n the ghost act don't fool nobody?"

"Okay, they're streets then? Cool," Jack nods, the hood of his sweatshirt moving. "Yeah, I can read," he adds. "I got that far in school before they called the Ghostbusters on me," he tries to joke a bit. The question of weapons prompts him to raise his gloved hands. "If I have to fight, I can fight."

The joke falls flat. A flit of concern crosses Echo's face, but she's in no position to argue. He was prepared to fight for her, after all. She'll have to believe him. "I should go, then," she sighs, wetting her lips, "Thank you. Again." Skirts swishing as she moves, the Morlock slides away towards the mouth of the alley. "B'safe out here, brother."

Jack just doesn't like to talk much about the telekinesis thing. He needs to work more on it. "Uh, sure," he says, "And thanks for the heads up about the deli. You stay safe too."

Pulling her hood tightly down over her face, Echo peaks both ways before disappearing out into the city.