ArchivedLogs:Cute Fuzzy Cheerleaders

Cute Fuzzy Cheerleaders
Dramatis Personae Anette, Eric
In Absentia	2017-05-31 '
Location <BOM> Common Room - Main Lodge - Ascension Island
The common room's rustic-lodge feel has been somewhat mitigated by the modern amenities inside its sturdy wooden walls. It has comfortable couches, several chairs, a refrigerator (stocked with snacks and drinks!), a pool table, a pinball machine (METALLICA!), an assortment of books, a television -- with several game systems! -- and a splendid view out the windows (when their lacy yellow curtains are drawn open) for the rest of the island. The pale wood floors have been covered in places -- by a pair of soft thick blue rugs, by a large squishy pair of beanbags that stand in front of the stone fireplace. There's also a board up on the wall, half corkboard, half whiteboard, with a variety of community notes (and occasional insults) to other Brotherhood members. Large doors on the right-hand side lead off to the kitchen and dining room. In the back of the room, the council room's heavy oak door bears solid locks that are almost never actually barred. A short hall adjacent to the council room's door leads to a trio of multi-stalled bathrooms; these might once have been marked with the typical man-woman-handicapped signs, but someone has given them new plaques on the door; a stick figure with horns and a long tail, one with wings. One -- the large single-user toilet -- has instead been given a helmet and a cape. Gone are the days of Anette hiding her bump under t-shirts and jackets. Gone are the days of even calling it a bump, now it looks more like a smuggled beachball, especially obviously against her otherwise lithe frame. Probably also related is the fact she wears a tank-top and shorts despite the cool weather and she's given up her usual boots in favor of flip flops now that her feet are prone to swelling. The joys of pregnancy. Currently, she's made herself at home in one of the chairs, awkwardly folded in it in an attempt to make room for both her belly and her wings as she tries to watch the television, all while she cradles a bottle of Sprite in her arms and sips at it through a straw. The stairs up from the training center creak for a moment in complaint as Eric steps out of the gym and into the common area. A pair of red shorts matches the black spandex Under Armour shirt stretched revealingly across Eric's chest, briefly covered up by a damp towel as Eric wipes the sweat off of his face and neck. His hair is mussed and wet, but despite the sweat, a grin still hangs on his lips. As he steps into the room and raises a hand to Anette, the police officer hangs the towel around the back of his neck. "Heya, Anette. How's it goin'? You 'bout ready to pop?" Eric teases, lightly, leaning against the doorframe like a greyhound against a leg. Anette twists her neck, only mildly unnaturally, to catch a glimpse of Eric as he arrives. She doesn't bother to hide the appreciative glance though she returns her gaze to the TV before she responds. "God I wish. Two more months of this shit." She untangles herself and slowly rises to her feet, stretching her back and wings and facing Eric as she does so. "Lucky bastard. I miss working out. Pretty sure only half of this is the kid." She takes a gulp of her soda and leans against the back of the chair, content to stand for now. "So what have you been up to lately?" Eric's grin only widens when he catches Anette's once-over, and he leans to one side and then the other, stretching out his muscles from the workout -- or maybe just showing off. "Jesus, two more months. I think I'd take gettin' shot again over that," Eric says, lazily genuflecting with two fingers. "Ah, you know, protecting. Serving. The usual. Been pretty calm, all things considered. Had a mutant art show in town at Evolve, even. Went smooth as silk." The police officer shrugs, straightening up off the wall and running a hand through his hair to try and tame sweat-soaked strands. "Ya ain't missin' much in the way a' action. Not that I'm complainin', I gotta say. It's nice to just be a cop again for a change." Anette's smirk only grows as Eric 'shows off'. "I think I'd take getting shot over this, too," she agrees. She does roll her eyes though as he describes his daily life. "Protect and serve. Right." Clearly she holds strongly to her anti-cop sentiments, not matter who the cop is. "Glad it went well though. I would've bet anything something would've happened." She runs her own talons through her hair, pushing it back away from her face when she suddenly grins with stifled laughter as she spontaneously remembers something. "Hey, do you know a goat girl? Cute little fluffy thing, named Paige?" Eric winks at Anette, playfully, before flopping down onto the ground into a bean bag and looking up at her. "I was a bit surprised too. I mean, don't get me wrong -- there was some shit. Just, not a whole lotta it, ya know?" Eric purses his lips for a second, looking out the window and worrying his bottom lip. "Lotta security there, though. Maybe it just wasn't worth it." Shaking his head, Eric quickly returns his attention back to Anette with two surprised blinks. "Horns? Yeah, I know her. Arrested her friend for murder. Ain't exactly the best intro'ta my stunning personality -- and to be honest, the fuck had it comin' anyway -- but." He tilts his head to one side, giving Anette a curious look. "How did you two cross paths? She ain't strike me the kind to be goin' about in our circles." "Guess even cops deserve it easy now and then," Anette says, sipping at her soda again as she reaches for the remote to turn the TV off. She makes her way over to the bean bags and has to give it some thought before she plops down. Sideways apparently, her elbow set on the ground with her head propped on her wrist, the bag forming to the shape of her her waist and belly, her wings draped lazily behind her. Probably as comfortable as she can manage now. "Oh, I think we ran into each other at Evolve or something. Sweet girl. Almost feel sorry for her." Anette raises a brow as Eric describes their meeting. "That's a hell of a way to meet someone. Either way, you made quite the impression on her," Anette says, adding her own playful wink at the end. Eric laughs and shakes his head before letting it fall back and staring at the ceiling. "Yeah, it wasn't a good way ta' make friends. Especially when one'a my team had to light half'a the room on fire ta' keep her friend from gettin' away." He sighs and rolls his ankles out from side to side. "Oh yeah?" Eric says, raising his eyebrows and lifting his head to look back at Anette. "What kinda' impression?" "Damn. I just get shot at when I get in trouble. What's a girl got to do get some excitement?" She shifts a bit in her beanbag before she finally settles in comfortably, flicking a nearby dustbunny across the floor away from them as she grins with his next question. "The kind of impression where I'm pretty sure she's doodling your name with hearts all over her notebooks. It's cute really. I mean, I warned her to stay far away from you. But it's cute." Eric blinks and scratches at the back of his neck. "Huh. Funny, I'm usually pretty good at tellin' when people are int'a me. It happens a lot, so..." Anette gets a gift from Eric: a wink and a playful grin. "I mean, I'm kinda surprised. I kinda thought she might'a had a thing for one'a my teammates. He's married with kids. Again, poor bastard." He pauses. "Wait -- how did this even come up? What, were ya tryin' to break the Bechdel test or somethin'?" Anette rolls her eyes. "Let me guess: they're into you if they have a pulse? Wait, I'm sure there's a mutant or two that technically doesn't have a pulse." She gives a half shrug. "We were out drinking for her birthday. Well, she was drinking, I kept her out of trouble. Mostly. Anyway, turns out she's the blabby kind of drunk." She gives Eric a once-over again, this one much more critical than her earlier ones before teasing, "It's probably just the uniform. Maybe the gun." Grinning, Eric nods. "Basically, ya got the right idea. No pulse necessary." He claps a hand to his chest, head tossing back, when Anette teases him. "Ouch, what they say 'bout sticks and stones ain't true, Anette. Words hurt." He's only able to keep the grin off of his face for a moment before he breaks out into a chuckle and a wide smile. "I ain't sayin' those hurt any, that's for sure. I appreciate a woman in uniform. Or a man in uniform, for that matter. Ain't bother me either way." "Freak," Anette says, though judging by the grin on her face, not much is meant by it. She does laugh a bit, smirking playfully as he admits his own fetish. "I knew I should have saved my cheerleading uniform," she says sarcastically. Tired of her position, she sits up, now sitting up right and cross-legged on the beanbag. "Cheerleadin' uniform?" Eric perks up, raising his eyebrows and giving Anette a unabashed and lightly heated once, twice over with his eyes. "Yeah, I could see that. You should'a saved it indeed." He gives her a thumbs up, grin spread wide to show a row of teeth. He lets his head fall back so he's lying completely down on his back on top of the bean bag, then -- with a complaining groan -- sits upright. "Ain't nothin' stoppin' you from gettin' one now, though. Can always make up for lost time." "Somehow I don't think Wal-Mart carries maternity cheerleading uniforms," Anette says a bit dryly, hand resting on her stomach for emphasis. "Nothing stopping me. Except you know, the big tall Asian guy with claws who could carve you open like a Thanksgiving turkey. Though now that I think about it, he might enjoy it." She suddenly smirks playfully. "Bet they make them in Paige's size though." "Psh, these days? I bet you there're a good number of cheerleaders needin' materinity wear for their uniforms." Eric says, laughter in his voice. "Big tall Asian guy with claws? I mean, I might enjoy it too," Eric confesses, winking teasingly at Anette. "Somehow, I ain't think that'd be the best suggestion to come from me." He glances off to one side, considering. "Mm. Bet she'd look good in 'em, though." A pause, and Eric stands up, waggling a finger down at Anette. "What happened ta' warnin' her off'a me?" Lacing his fingers together, he stretches his hands out, joints cracking audibly. "I should get back ta' refurbishin' the rifle I was workin' on. Gotta finish grindin' the serials off'a the thing." Anette watches Eric stand before responding. "There's two reasons I told you anything. One, so you can embarass the living hell out of her when I'm not around and two, to warn you if you touch her I will rip your kidneys out through your throat." Not joking. "There's not a lot of things I care about, especially cute fuzzy things, but somehow she makes the cut." His comment about the rifle does earn a slight grin. "Ah, our honest and respectable law enforcement at work." She uncrosses her legs and leans forward with a groan of her own but doesn't quite make it, instead holding a talon out towards Eric, ticking her head towards it in silent request of assistance. Eric raises his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Ain't have ta' tell me twice. I like my kidneys where they are, and regrowin' them ain't sound like a good time ta' me." The officer reaches down and grabs hold of Anette's hand, lifting her to her feet with a strong grip and firm pull. "Hey, I didn't steal this one from the department." A pause. "I stole it off'an idiot drug dealer."