Logs:Mutants in the Car with Coffee

Mutants in the Car with Coffee
Dramatis Personae Kitty, Tabitha
In Absentia	2020-10-17 Shit's outta wack.
Location <NYC> The Tombs - Lower Manhattan
The sky was a grey-blue, the sun not yet peaking over the skyline but speckling the clouds with it's glow. There is a tenseness in the air, even if the protests are over -- it still feels different. Tabitha is sitting on the stairs in the front, holding her head in her hands as the crisp morning chill passes over her. Her hair is a tangle of loose curls, her face barely visible in them. Her clothes -- a drab green flight jacket with patches and pins decorating most of it, a dull blue-green striped sweater with rips around the collar and hems, worn khaki cargo pants, and black platform Doc Martens -- were dirty and disheveled. With every car that passed, she craned her head up with eager eyes. It is a few minutes more before the blue 2008 Honda Fit finally rolls up to the station. In the driver's seat, Kitty is dishevelled as she parallel parks outside. Her grey Xavier's hoodie has some crumbs of an energy bar still on it, and she clearly wasn't thinking about fashion when she paired it with grey sweatpants. She rolls down the passenger window, looking out with bloodshot eyes for a familiar face. "Tabitha!" she yells, her voice raspy and hoarse. One hand reaches out to wave frantically, the other hand lingering on the horn. Her cloud of blonde waves abruptly tussle as Tabitha cocks her head to the voice. A smirk spreads across her face as she stands up, wincing a bit in pain. "KITTY-KAT!" She yells back and rushes over to the car. She gets in, slamming the door behind her. Now closer, Kitty could see that Tabitha was also not in the best condition. She was pale, clammy, with redness around her eyes and nose. "Fuck YOU fuckers!" She yells at the building. "Let's get the FUCK outta here. Pieces of shit." Kitty rolls up the window soon as Tabitha is in the car, pulls away a little too fast and earns a honk from an angry New York driver. Uncharacteristically for her, Kitty puts up her middle finger to the rearview mirror. "Nobody in this town can drive," she mutters darkly as they pull away. They get about a block on before she remembers. "Coffee," Kitty says, indicating vaguely to the two hot cups in between their seats. "Did you get gassed? I brought a trashbag. Change of clothes." She blinks, bleary-eyed, slams the breaks as a light goes red. Tabitha slouches in her seat, putting her legs up on the dashboard while her fingers tap impatiently on her forearm. "I don't fuckin' remember," she pinches the bridge of her nose in an attempt to remember, "got hit with the -- the rubber things, probably gassed, yeah." It takes her a second or two to remember that Kitty had mentioned the coffee. She sits up with a slam of her boots to the floor and snatches it from the cup holder. With a small 'thanks' she takes a large swig. Her leg is restless, matching her own erratic behavior. Tabitha faces Kitty for the first time, blinking to focus. "Ohh fuck, man -- what -- what happened to you?" She sounds almost disturbed. "Careful," Kitty says, "small car. shakes easy." Apparently, sentences are beyond her- or maybe its just multitasking, as she tries to navigate lower Manhattan traffic. Her own coffee seems to be largely forgotten, though its mostly full. "Long night. Haven't slept." They make a left. "There was - I was passing out water, Care Bearing I think it's called?" A right. "Anyway. Sarah and I got caught in it. Tried to phase us through the gas." Her face, already plenty sour, darkens. "It's not as bad as phasing through adamantium but. The inside of my skin stings. I wasn't on it." Her foot leans on the pedal, speeding them through a short yellow light. "Was at Sarah's, got back to Inwood, got your call. Very tired." Tabitha is giving Kitty an intense stare right into her eyes with a focused brow. She's quiet, shifting her jaw. "... right. Okay." An itch to her neck. She looks away, and for once, she's struggling to find what words to say. "I, uh... I'm gonna be honest, I-I've never seen you look like this much shit before so I don't -- I don't know what to say." Hands move up to rub her face. "Sleep? Yeah, uhh, sleep. You need to. When we get to the apartment." A moment of silence. "Sarah?" She drops her hands to her lap. "Whose Sarah?" Her eyes squint, and her unwavering stare returns. Kitty lets the silence drag on a bit longer. "I- yeah." At the next read one hand reaches across, scratching at the still red scabs from hardly a week ago. "Rough week, I guess." Another beat. "Fuck," she says, the curse sounding out of place in her mezzo voice. "Fuck all of this." Her hands tighten around the steering wheel. "Sarah is." Kitty hesitates, starts over. "Sarah's a friend. I keep meaning to introduce you guys. She -" She shakes her head. "She's the one making the banana bread and the oatmeal cookies and stuff thats on the counter." For the first time in hours Kitty cracks a smile. "Did the cops feed you? Pretty sure there is something good left in the bread box." Tabitha doesn't blink once. Not even a flicker of an eyelid. It's hard to read what exact emotion this glare is giving, but, it is certainly radiating some sort of emotion. Her lips curled into a crooked grin as she leans back, crossing her arms. "OH! Ohhhhhhhh--" A short chuckle. "Kitty has a cruuuush~ Ohh, tell me all about her. Is she hot? Are her nails short?" She leans forward with interest. "I'm being shallow -- is she nice? Does her laugh make your stomach flutter like butterflies in a cage? Wait -- how did you guys meet?" Kitty's face, though still obviously fatigued, colours quickly in her cheeks. "Shut up, Tabby," she says, but it's through a girlish giggle. The giggle meets with the hoarseness of her voice in a strange way - the sound is grating, rusty, like she hasn't laughed in a while. "You would know she was cute if you were ever home during daylight hours," she teases, easing into a lane change. "I dunno, I think we've been in similar circles for a while, but we only just started talking like a couple months ago?" On a wall they drive past, some leftover graffiti - MUTANT LIVES MATTER. "She's an artist." "Ooo, an artist." She echoes, itching her neck. "I could be there during the day but. I don't really think you'd like me to. My, uhh -- daytime 'activities' aren't exactly something you could mesh with, y'know?" Tabitha leans back, putting her feet back up on the dashboard. "God, y'know what I could REALLY go for right now?" She flicks her thick sunglasses from her mop of hair over her eyes. "A speedball. Shit wakes me up like--" Her fingers snap. Kitty nods like she understands what Tabitha is alluding to, then cautiously says, “Well. Maybe another time. If you want an introduction. I’m sure we can make it work.” The last syllable is clipped short as a motorcycle nearly clips their mirrors. Kitty slams on the horn. A beat, then, “I don’t know if drugs are. Advisable. Right now. With all the shit that is already going down.” Kitty turns her head slightly, eyes leaving the road. “Like, I think people are going to be out on the streets for a while. And, I think your propensity to. Blow shit up? Could actually be. Helpful, right now. But you’d have to aim it right.” Tabitha scoffs, puffing out her lips. "I was just sayin', y'know, a, uhh-- hypothetical." She crosses her arms, and beneath her sunglasses, she gives Kitty a quick glance. There's a silence that follows her statement, a reluctance. "... anyway, I haven't -- I haven't done anything since... Yeah." She plays this off casually. "I used to do shit like that in Cali." A short chuckle. "I would, but you've seen my powers. Shit's outta wack." She holds her hands up in front of her, flexing her fingers. "It's been getting better, I think, but I don't wanna risk it." They're on FDR now - it's a straight shot up the side of the island. Kitty spares a moment to look at Tabitha more closely. Her lips press together. "Thank you," she says quietly. Then - "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have suggested that, I just - I don't know." It's not clear what she's talking about when she says I don't know, the exhaustion on her face suggesting that this is a general sentiment. "I feel like I've been wasting my time trying to do everything, and now - well." A bitter laugh. "Charles isn't deploying the X-Men out here. We're doing this ourselves." Another sidelong glance. "Kind of wishing I left, like you did, right now." Tabitha wets her lips, staying quiet as Kitty speaks. Chipped, bitten nails tap on the car door. "Honestly?" She rolls her head to face her, and, in the same motion -- flicks her glasses back to the top of her head. "You're not God. So stop acting like him." A scoff. "Not EVERYTHING is your responsibility. It's not YOUR job to make everyone happy, keep everyone safe, be a perfect friend, student, whatever. It's not fair that you put all that stuff on you! Because you know what? You're NOT God. You don't HAVE to be perfect! That's the great thing about being human! We're 'NOT' perfect! So screw ANYONE who thinks we need to be!" She sits up, gaining energy. "And you -- you, Kitty -- you're like -- the most perfect a human can probably get! So I don't know why you're the one feeling like shit when you're amazing and I'm here gettin' drunk and high and wasting every second of my life!" She laughs. "You're in the X-Men, man! That's AWESOME. I would do anything to go back, but I burned that bridge." Pale hands reach and hold onto Kitty's arm. "You do not give yourself enough credit for what you actually do. Instead, you worry about what you don't do. You're NOT God, you can't be everywhere at once, you can't -- you can't make everyone happy, so don't worry if you don't! You know you're a good person, I know you're a good person, and that's all that matters." Kitty lets Tabitha's monologue continue uninterrupted, glancing sideways at her as often as is safe. A number of expressions flit over her face, starting around 'resting driving face' , several expression of doubt, a small laugh, and finally a smile, small but bright, as Tabitha finishes. At the next stoplight, she squeezes Tabitha's arm. "Thank you." A moment, and she laughs again. "After all this is over, you should think about motivational speaking." Tabitha smiles proudly, straightening her back. "Someone should have recorded me. That would've been awesome in a movie or something." She takes her arms back. "I mean it, though. I do." Her pose returns to it's slouching position as -- without her interference -- her sunglasses fall to the bridge of her nose. "Man, I wish I wrote that down..."