ArchivedLogs:Snow Angels

Snow Angels
Dramatis Personae Ash, Ion
In Absentia	2014-01-21 Fast food makes a shitty day slightly better.
Location <NYC> Dunkin Donuts
"Fffff." Ion is stomping snow off his shiny tall shit-kicking boots, clumps of sticky frozen white falling off against the already sodden entry mat as he enters the mostly empty Dunkin' Donuts. It's well past the morning rush, but /he's/ spent prime breakfasting hours waiting out in the frozen cold and it shows. Hat crusted with snow, gloves crusted with snow, nose tipped red, frost limning the edges of his scarf where it wraps around and around at the collar of his jacket. At least he's bundled up warmly for his long wait out in the loooong lines, because -- "{Shit-all to show for /that/,}" he's saying to Ash in what is at least good-/natured/ Spanish, as rough-coarse as his English ever is. "{Kind of like driving those, ah, those snow-plows around too though you know? Maybe not, maybe not days like this. This is just slush. Wet-slush. I met a guy, he say, he say the days they have feet of snow so high, you drive the plows, you make tunnels --}" He lifts his hands above his head once he's done stomping snow off his feet. "{Like making your own damn snow /fortress/.}" "{Turning the whole damn city into a snow fortress is the best,}" Ash admits with childish enthusiasm, brushing the wet, slushy snow off his shoulders, the moisture beading up against the outside of this moisture treated canvas coat. His legs are covered in similar tan material, making him look a bit like a gingerbread man against the white back drop of the fogged up exit door. "{The pay is pretty nice too, when you get the late night shift and gas up on coffee and just zoom up and down the streets until morning.}" He sniffs and snags a napkin as he passes a condiment stand and blows his nose. "{But no sense mourning. Instead, we get warmth, breakfast sandwiches, and snow angels, if you're game.}" He smacks playfully at Ion's elbow as they shuffle into line, his eyes scanning the boards. "{Ahhhhh. Choices. Sausage or bacon?}" "{Snow angel, fuck is that sounds like that chick was making those eyes at you a few blocks back eh?}" Ion's brows raise, teeth flashing towards Ash in a wide bright grin. He tugs off his gloves, shoving them in a pocket of his coat and rolling his neck from side to side with a tuk-tuk-tuk popping sound of vertebrae. "{Pay, man, pay would be so nice. Could afford like -- /two/ breakfast sandwich, yeah? The /large/ coffee and not the small, we'd be living like /kings/. Maybe tomorrow, maybe tomorrow we have the good life.}" He claps Ash on the shoulder, a restless bounce in his step that doesn't cease even when he's fit himself into line. Jitter-jitter, jitter-jitter. "Sausage-bacon, sausage-bacon. Mmm, mmm. Mmm, mmm. {No, no, I be a rebel. I'm picking the /ham/, look at that. I'm an /anarchist/, friend. You teach me what's this /snow angel/, this some weird magic you have here? It don't cost money do it because pah, I'm spending my money on the ham.}" "{Pffft. You didn't make snow angels when you were a kid? Did you grown up without snow? That's pretty shitty, man. Snow angels are one of the many delightful shapes you can make by rolling your body around on the snow. Pretty popular, too. People can also spell things out and make other designs. The tricky part is getting out of the snow without messing up the imprint.}" Ash explains with some exaggerated hand gestures, not quite mimicking the actual actions of a snow angel, but giving a mini preview with his hands and forearms. "{Anyway. A fort'd be more fun. -- You want me to put a good word in for you with my union - you know, if they let me come back and all? It's a hell of a lot easier to get jobs with a union card, and there's all sorts of affirmative action laws and benefits that encourage employers to have us on payroll. Wish they had it for mutants, but whatever, you know?}" He turns his eyes on the register and considers. "{Did you want two sandwiches and a large coffee? I got rent for next month already and some fat dollars to spare.}" "{Had snow here and there. Never a huge-ton. Passed through some mountains, sometimes. Had some -- sprinkles. Mostly stayed low, stayed warm. Didn't see this angels business. Then I was in Brazil, then I was in Colombia, then I was in Mexico, then I was in California. Was warm, you know. There was no -- snow. And then I was in those labs and there was /definitely/ no angels.}" Ion watches Ash's hand gestures, his smile wwidening as he lifts his own arms to mimic them. "{Shitty, I don't know, I think it's exciting. Just more to learn now. Make a fort, build a angel. Put it on top like a mother-fucking Christmas tree. Angels over Manhattan.}" His eyes widen at the offer of /more food/. "{Rent? You got next-month-rent already, boyo, you tell me your secret. You tell me your secret over /two/ fucking ham-cheese-egg sandwiches. Hey. Hey, look at this,}" he tells the elderly woman working the register with a smile, not bothering to switch languages thanks to the se habla espanol tag beneath her name badge, "{look at this angel and his rent and his /large/ coffee and his /two/ ham and egg and cheese croissants.}" "{Sure, I'll tell you my secret. We just gotta make sure you've got a work permit thingy, and you'll be as good as gold. You'd probably be happier signing yourself up for an electrician's apprentice, but then again, you might not. Personally, I shot myself in the foot with that video, but hell man, have you seen the news? They're going to prosecute those bastards and lock /them/ up. That's absolutely fucking amazing.}" Ash steps forward to the register and smiles at the cashier. "{Yeah, okay, he's getting two ham and cheese crossiants with a large coffee, I'm getting a bacon egg and cheese, a sausage egg and cheese, and a large coffee, please.}" He has to take his coat off one arm and slip a shoulder strap from his snowproof leggings off to get his hand into his back pocket, fishing his wallet out to pay. "{Oh, work permit, right, right. Let me tell you a secret.}" Ion leans in towards Ash, close like this is deep clandestine information. "{I --}" He pauses here for dramatic effect, "{am an /illegal/, friend, I don't think they want me to do a work. Though actually now I don't think they /care/, this city it needs workers and they don't care from where. Oh my God. Oh my God, couldn't you just kiss him, angel, caffeine, cheese, ham, life is /so beautiful/. Today, ham, tomorrow work permits, the next day the world.}" Ion tosses a wide grin to the woman behind the register as Ash pays for their food, clapping his companion on the shoulder and turning around to scoot out of the way a short ways down the counter, leaning back against it and propping his palms against the edge. "{Those videos, you rocked it. You all rocked it. I made, yeah, I made a video but, ah, but, that reporter man, Mirror they didn't, heh, didn't want nobody to watch /my/ video, me and Kay we just said we'd /fry/ the bastards. Fuck those guys you know? Who chops up little kids that shit ain't right. But this, little rock-shaker, this is right, they're going the fuck /down/. They /are/ gonna fry.}" "{Pfft. You ain't got no idea how many times I rerecorded some short blip that got to the point fast enough that I didn't either tell them how much they should die, tell them how many people I've killed, or ... well, wax poetic about life in the mountains away from people.}" Ash gets his change from the cashier and blushes as he notices how she's not trying to notice the pair of them and their seemingly murderous antics. He gives her a sheepish nod and tries to walk away before mentioning in a hush the part about people dying. He doesn't walk far though. He's got to wait for his coffee. Luckily the cashier turns away to pour the cups. "{Like twenty times. I get it out of my system going on rescue raids, but ... fuck, I don't know what I'm going to do once those go away.}" "{Don't get me wrong, I want all those kids free, but this is my therapy, man. I'm like... Batman. Dunno if I can just go without yet.}" "{Life in the mountains making snow angels?}" Ion asks this with a laugh, turning around to prop his elbows stomach-facing instead of back-facing against the counter so that he can /watch/ the fascinating process of mass-produced breakfast sandwich making in action. "{Sound like poetry. Maybe. I'd make a shit poet, I think. Never really tried. You write much poetry?}" He turns his typically broad grin back on the poor disconcerted cashier, anachronistically cheery in contrast to the bloodthirsty conversation. "{Go without? Oh, friend. You have no worries, okay? These assholes, they'll go down, yeah, but it's like that wacky moles game, eh? There's gonna be /no/ end of sick bastards out there that, mmm. That hurting us, that hurting kids, that hurting people. That need the hurting on them. You want to be an avenging angel, we'll find /so/ many people need some avenge put on them.}" "{Little electrical storm,}" Ash replies quite seriously, "{In the mountains, I make rock angels and the whole world is a snowy landscape. I think you'd make a great poet. You're straightforward and descriptive. But what do I know. I didn't end up with the creative genes in my family.}" He too watches the food preparation, but with more hunger than fascination. "{Good. I figured there would always be people, but I wasn't always sure that I'd be able to find them, you know. I kind of just stumbled upon Prometheus.}" And then their food is presented to them, on trays. "{Aye, hurray, let's eat!}" He grabs the food and turns to find a place to sit. "{I make for a big electric storm, rockbiter.}" Ion wanders off to grab them a booth, dropping down into it but immediately hopping right back up to go doctor his coffee with sugar and creamer. /Then/ sit back down, unwrapping one of his sandwiches with a look of /glee/. "{Oh, we'll find them. Or they'll find us. Or we'll find them. These kinda people,}" Ion has a way of smiling that looks /grim/ even when he's manic, a little wild-eyed, there's a charge building in the /air/ when he leans in to take a chomp out of his sandwich, "{they leave a /body/ count you can follow. We will never be short for work, friend.}" "{Yeah, I remember how big of an electrical storm you make,}" Ash chuckles quietly in response, following him to their chosen seat. He waits until Ion has doctored his coffee before rising to do the same. "{Good, good. you keep me in the loop on these people,}" Ash starts, his tone gravelly and resolute, "{and I'll keep you in the loop on what shit I find.}" He unwraps his first, sausage, and digs in, chewing happily as he feels some of the drier hairs on his head react to Ion's charging. "{So, what else should we do today? Seems like the city is our oyster, what with stuff getting shut down. We could build snowpeople in Time Square or igloos in Central Park.}" "{All the loops. We'll all of us be in every loop. And wear every hat. Freak goddamn angels.}" Ion's tongue swipes out, nabbing a stray croissant crumb off of his lip. "{Igloos. Shit. We can do that? I know some kids they would flip their /shits/ for having some igloos. Later we should do some cocoa too. I'll even buy those, yeah?}" He pats his hand against his chest. /Magnanimously/. "{Of course we can do it. It's a totally a thing. To make real ones, though, you gotta work at it. Maybe we'll pull off some shitty little ones with safe little sky lights so that no one gets stuck forever.}" Ash considers quietly, nomming on the sandwich until its half gone. Then he washes it down with some coffee. "{Cocoa sounds amazing. I could make chiles releno tonight, if you want too. They're good for a cold day. Need to stop by the grocery store on the way to my apartment though. I feel like I never see you guys so I'm totally throwing out the red carpet. It'll be amazing. Come on, eat up. We've got a huge day ahead of us.}"