ArchivedLogs:Manning the Great Wall

From X-Men: rEvolution
Revision as of 17:17, 23 November 2014 by Billy (talk | contribs)
(diff) ← Older revision | Latest revision (diff) | Newer revision → (diff)
Jump to navigationJump to search
Manning the Great Wall
Dramatis Personae

Laura, Melinda, Morgan

In Absentia


2014-11-22


Three very different ladies converge as a group of teens hassle a defenseless old woman. Each reacts in her own way.

Location

<NYC> Chinatown


One of New York's oldest neighborhoods and the oldest Chinese enclave outside of Asia, Chinatown is a vibrant ethnic community, which draws throngs of tourists annually as well. This neighborhood is packed with Chinese-owned businesses, from restaurants to groceries to theaters to fashion.

Jean-clad, Morgan keeps her free hand stuffed into the pocket of her old fluff-lined brown motorcycle jacket. It's not the warmest garment but per usual, she's gotta be a tough guy. "Fuck," she whispers to herself, shivering around the bundle she carries with her other arm. It's a massive pink and purple bag of kibble covered in kawaii puppies and nonsense. Nearly the size of her torso, the young woman has to stop and lean almost fully to the side to resettle it on her hip.

Up ahead, a group of punks hassles passersby. Bundled up against the still-new cold, most keep their eyes trained down and their limbs close to their core. One of the teens lunges forward, stomping his foot and flailing his arms out at a little old Asian woman carrying groceries. She panics, letting out a caw as she drops some of her things. The teens erupt in laughter.

Melinda is pushing a baby carriage through the streets of Chinatown, spending some time lingering by some of the exterior facing bodega shelves. Some of the street markets here on Canal Street are not quite legal, but the young mother only seems interested in the food products offered. The woman is dressed in a large wool coat, slate blue in color, hanging all the way down to her ankles, the moderate warmth of the day (well, compared to the freezing temperatures as of late), the coat is open to the world, showing off a layered navy and gray shirt over denim. One boot clad foot clicks on the brake on the carriage as she finds a vegetable stand that draws her attention. Under the plastic cover on the carriage, a small hand disturbs the surface enough to show that an actual living being is inside.

The commotion draws Melinda's attention and her eyes narrow, her lips setting in a pursed expression, waiting for the teens to clear off before she does anything.

Frustration boiling up from having the carry such a heavy bag, from the cold, and from her life in general, Morgan grits her teeth and stomps forward. She's not hero, just an aggressor and perhaps, a bigger fish than them. "Hey! Get the fuck out of here, you little shits!" Bracing her weight on one powerful leg, she swings the bag of dog food as if she might throw the whole damn thing at the group of teens.

The group collectively flinches and when it becomes clear the crazy blonde woman is still going to continue to swing it at them, they scatter.

Laura can't help but giggle as the men scatter, covering her mouth before the sound is found to be too offensive. "Ok that is not how the story is going to be told when they get back home. I wish I had a video of that."

Melinda approaches quietly, her baby carriage drawn near only when she knows it's going to be safe to do so. She relocks the wheels and leans down to help the little old woman collect her food and put it back in her bag. She is quiet as she does so, not bothering to approach any language barriers that might be there. She mostly bows her head as she nods repeatedly.

Morgan swings the bag of kibble onto her other hip, knees bent as she maneuvers the heavy weight. "They're lucky it was me and not like, a fucking ninja or samurai or something," Morgan growls in response to Laura. The would-be cop doesn't bend to help the little old woman. That's not her thing. Pursing her lips, she casts a judgemental eye on the young woman who's thing it *is.* Inevitably, she peeks into Melinda's stroller. Though given how uncomfortable she is around babies, Morgan doesn't move any closer to do so. She just looms overhead as if those kids might be dumb enough to come back.

Laura seems to take in an appraisal of the woman with the dog food and gives a somewhat nervous, "Right." as she tries to decide if she just needs to be on her way or what not. Looking over to the woman with the stroller who is helping the other woman up she does offer a kindly smile.

Under the plastic film that both keeps the child dry should it be rainy, and sheltered should it be windy, the child is... just not the right color. It's hard to see in the dimmer light under the shade of the sun visor, but the little girl is green and has flower petals where her hair should be. The child in question turns large green eyes on the woman staring at her, blinks a few times, then waves in a gesture that can be described better as whole hand pointing rather than a greeting.

Mel helps the little old lady get on her way before she draws herself up to her full height, then glances around at the other two women. "Oh. Hey." She is quiet for a moment before she offers, "Kids these days?"

Laura looks back towards where they had run off, "yea, something like that... I don't know that they were any better in days before, just need more ninjas to help patrol the streets."

Clearly staring into the stroller, Morgan hesitates. The mutant baby ignites a maternal flare in her that she wouldn't have guessed herself capable of. She shakes it off. "Right," Morgan repeats Laura's earlier response in a distant tone. Wrapping both arms around her bag, she takes a step back to make room as Melinda rises and the elderly woman waddles off.

"I am not sure that ninjas are native to Chinatown. Sounds more like a Little Tokyo thing." Melinda presses her hands into the small of her back as she stretches, trying to dispel some tension there. "Though, if you have a band of ninjas you aren't using, I'm sure that the elderly in the city could use a little more care. Perhaps they can help with groceries too and home cleaning."

Laura catches sight of the small child and goes quiet while she seems to not know quite what to comment about such a thing. So instead she just stands there and smile.

Running her tongue over her upper row of teeth, Morgan can't help but look back down at the stroller. She fights it, looking back up uncomfortably, "Oh, right. What does China get? That giant fucking wall?" Unfortunately, it's too strong a pull and she looks back down, tilting her head to the side. "A giant wall to keep out teenagers," she coos.

"More walls in New York? Can you imagine? It'd be like the zombie plague all over again. Everyone segmented and against each other probably wouldn't help in this situation anyway, as the assholes probably spoke the same language as the woman they were hassling." Mel raises an eyebrow at the suggestion and looks from person to person before glancing down at her daughter. The child loves attention and when Morgan coos at her, she wiggles more, both arms wagging in her direction. The mother inhales deeply and smiles a little. "I... think she likes you."

Laura says, "I think there are already far too many walls... and buildings, but what do I know." she tries to get back into the conversation, her eyes avoiding the baby as much as she is able. "Now if only we could convince more women to stick up for themselves like you just did, that would solve half the problems."

Morgan wrinkles her nose at the idea, "It's probably the bag." After all, it is covered in swirly crazy chibi-dogs and various food stuffs that could not possibly be in do food. Bouncing it on her hip and tearing her attention away from the baby, she clears her throat, "I'm sure it'd cause a slew of others. /I/ usually, do." Chuckling, she takes a step away. Pointedly not looking back down at the baby, she nods a farewell, "Ladies. It was a pleasure making the world a safer place with you."

"Ah. Yes. Well, there never seems to be an end to problems. It's like there's a finite number of them always and solving one just shifts that problem label to something else." Melinda returns to the handles of her carriage and uses her toe to pop the locks, looking to go when Morgan makes her goodbyes. "Stay warm," she offers quietly.

Laura continues back on her way, with the other woman saying their goodbye's and offers a wave to each before she finds her way back down the street.