ArchivedLogs:Good News?: Difference between revisions

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| subtitle =  
| subtitle =  
| location = <NYC> 813 {Josiah} - [[One Sixty-Seven]] - Upper West Side
| location = <NYC> 813 {Josiah} - [[One Sixty-Seven]] - Upper West Side
| categories = Citizens, Mutants, Josiah, Trib, One Sixty-Seven, Private Residence, Perfectus TP
| categories = Citizens, Mutants, Josiah, Trib, One Sixty-Seven, Private Residence, Perfectus
| log =It's earlier than it should be on a Friday morning, and definitely too early for dropping in on people. Which is probably why Trib sent a text to Josiah before he got off the subway at the stop nearest his building. He must have used the voice feature on his phone, because it was actually spelled correctly. Robert is finishing his night shift on the door, but his is not the first voice that comes through when Josiah's intercom buzzes.
| log =It's earlier than it should be on a Friday morning, and definitely too early for dropping in on people. Which is probably why Trib sent a text to Josiah before he got off the subway at the stop nearest his building. He must have used the voice feature on his phone, because it was actually spelled correctly. Robert is finishing his night shift on the door, but his is not the first voice that comes through when Josiah's intercom buzzes.



Latest revision as of 04:06, 12 April 2014

Good News?
Dramatis Personae

Josiah, Trib

In Absentia


2014-04-11


Checking in. Part of the Perfectus TP.

Location

<NYC> 813 {Josiah} - One Sixty-Seven - Upper West Side


It's earlier than it should be on a Friday morning, and definitely too early for dropping in on people. Which is probably why Trib sent a text to Josiah before he got off the subway at the stop nearest his building. He must have used the voice feature on his phone, because it was actually spelled correctly. Robert is finishing his night shift on the door, but his is not the first voice that comes through when Josiah's intercom buzzes.

"--you fuckin' /kiddin'/ me?" is definitely Trib's growl.

Robert, to his credit, makes a show of it. "Sir, it's not building policy to admit unannounced visi --" there's an audible swallow, and then the doorman continues. "But, ah, seeing as you've been here before, and I /know/ you, I'm certain that it would be all right this one time."

The intercom clicks dead.

A few minutes later, there is a heavy thumping on the door. Trib has arrived. "Josiah. Open up."

Yes, it's early. And yes, it's Friday. The Josiahs are up, though, all three busying themselves in the apartment, when the intercom clicks on. Soon after Trib assaults the door, it opens. Josiah, wearing a pair of jeans and a vintage-looking Bowie shirt, is there to greet him. "Morning, Trib. Come on in." He looks happy to see the other man with that wide, toothy smile of his. "I didn't think I'd see you this early until you decided to sleep over. Want some breakfast?"

In the kitchen, Josiah2 (Jay) is cooking up a feast, dressed in sweats and a tight undershirt. "I'll throw on another pound of bacon for you," he says. Off at the desk in the corner of the room, dressed for the office, is Josiah3 (Joey), hunched over a laptop and too busy to say anything.

Trib looks a bit worn, when Josiah opens the door. He doesn't look tired, but there's a bit of stress in his face. Dressed in jeans and a light blue henley under an unzipped grey hoodie, he's got a paper bag in his left hand that smells of breakfast sandwiches. His knit cap is gone, his hair pulled back into a small ponytail at the base of his skull that bounces against his neck as he stalks into the apartment. "I brought some," he rumbles, his lips pursed and pulled to one side thoughtfully as he studies the other two Josiahs. "In case you ain't had none, yet." His voice is off, somehow. Like he's not really operating in this room at the moment. "I know it's fuckin' early to be droppin' by."

Josiah smiles reaches around to place a hand on Trib's back while he turns back toward the room. "Don't worry about that. I love mornings, and you're more than welcome to come by anytime you want." He starts to walk toward the couch in the middle of the apartment, leading Trib along if he'll allow. "What's up? You don't seem yourself." At the couch, he lets his hand slide of Trib before he settles down onto the plush cushions.

In the kitchen, bacon sizzles and pops, and Jay let's out a yelp as some grease finds a track of exposed flesh.

Trib blinks a couple of times, his brain apparently slow to keep up with the cheerful Josiah. He chuffs at the touch of the hand on his back, but the muscle underneath Josiah's hand is rigid to the bone. He follows Josiah to the couch, dropping the bag of sandwiches on the coffee table and planting his hands on his hips. He stares down at the older man for a long moment, and then frowns deeply. "Cage found your friend. Well, him an' some other people I don't know. They got him out."

All attention in the apartment falls on Trib, when he says that. For a moment, the sounds of cooking, or at least those coming from Jay, and the clicking of the laptop cease, and the dupes turn to face the younger man. "You did!?" Josiah says, jumping from the to better look Trib in the eyes. "Is he alright? Where was he? Who was he with?" Lots of questions, naturally. Once they're asked, the dupes go back to what they were doing, all keeping their ears open, though.

Trib looks around in surprise when the apartment goes quiet, and he furrows his brow as he turns back to Josiah Prime. He holds up a hand at the flurry of questions, and shakes his head. "Whoever had him, they were bad fuckin' news," Trib says, his voice bleak. "They were cuttin' up mutants or some shit. Cage was fuzzy on the details, on account the people guardin' him had fuckin' weird-ass powers an' took him down fast." He inhales, and his voice is the tiniest bit shaky as he continues. "Came damn close to killin' him, I guess, 'cause they had to carry him out." He lifts his shoulders helplessly, and spreads his hands. "I don't know where your friend ended up," he admits. "On account he didn't get no medical treatment. But he went to the Clinic, accordin' to the nurse on duty."

Josiah listens to the story with a look of concern. At Trib's shaky voice, he reaches out to grab the man's hand and give it a gentle squeeze. "Cage was brave to take the case. I'm sorry he got hurt doing so," he says, eyes downcast. "That's seriously fucked up, though. Cutting, did you say? Barbaric."

There's the sound of plates and silverware being organized in the kitchen, and soon Jay is by them, setting it all on the coffee table. "I'll have to find Dusk," he says. "Find out what the hell happened. Do you think they might still be out there, doing this shit to others?"

Trib nods at the sentiment, his fingers curling around Josiah's in a quick squeeze. "Apparently, lot of people got hurt. I think they took out the guys guardin' 'em, though." He lifts a shoulder as well as his eyebrows. "Least, I'm pretty sure that's what Cage was gettin' at. They got him all doped up on painkillers." His mouth pulls into a tight line, and he hangs his head a bit. "Sorry I can't tell you much more'n that. I ain't even sure who Cage was workin' with."

Josiah purses his lips, concerned look giving weight to his face, causing wrinkles where there should be none. He rights himself, though, forcing the downturn of his mouth against gravity. "It's fine, Trib. You don't have to apologize about anything. Not to me. People were saved, and that's a good thing. Hurt, maybe, but safe now." Hand still grasping Trib's Josiah settles back down on the couch, pulling Trib with him.

"Yeah, but..." Trib frowns as his hand is tugged, and he sinks down into the couch to lean against Josiah. Which is kind of like a lion leaning on a big dog, but he seems less tense. "People got saved," he repeats, nodding his head. "Which is good. But I ain't sure if they got all of 'em, or if there's someone out there to watch out for. So be careful. Don't get yourself nowhere you could be snatched." He sounds deathly serious as he makes this instruction. "An' fuckin' /run/, if you get into trouble. Find a fuckin' crowd. With cops in it."

The fact that Trib would even suggest finding cops is probably telling as to how important he considers this. He's certainly made no bones about disliking the dirty bastards before this.

Josiah has to adjust himself to the lean, but with a well-placed arm looping around Trib's wide shoulders, it's almost comfortable. "Don't worry about me, OK? After all, I have numbers on my side." He motions to the dupes, one of which is putting some breakfast together. "In fact, if one of gets snatched, which we won't, at least the others will be able to find the fuckers who did it." That makes Josiah momentarily pensive. He /would/ make the perfect bait for this sort of situation.

Trib snorts, and his jaw sets audibly as he shakes his head. "Just don't fuckin' risk it," he says. "Cage can punch down a fuckin' buildin', an' these guys fucked him up without thinkin' about it." He waves a hand in Jay's direction, his brow lowering. "How's it goin' to fuckin' work if one of you is fuckin' missin' an arm or some shit when you pull yourself together?" He shakes his head again. "Ain't worth the risk. Just fuckin' be careful, until we find out what the fuck is goin' on."

"Well, I don't know how it would work. I've never even broken a bone before," Josiah says, looking for something wooden to knock on. "But I promise, I'll be safe. I'm a big boy." He says this last bit with a grin, moving into nuzzle trib and plant a kiss against his ear. "And you do the same, OK?" he whispers into said ear. "Otherwise I'll get really pissed off." He moves in for another kiss, this one against the neck, when Jay announces that breakfast is ready. "Who's eating!?"