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Entitled
Dramatis Personae

Dusk, Kay, Melinda, Rasputin

In Absentia


2014-03-28


'

Location

<NYC> BoM Safehouse - Lower East Side


Tucked away off a little-used side street in the Lower East Side, sandwiched between a youth drop-in center and a taqueria, this narrow three-story townhouse has very little to catch the eye. Boarded-up windows, a door peeling its paint, shabby grubby brickface; from the outside it does not look like much.

Inside someone has gone to great lengths to renovate the building into something more habitable. It isn't glamorous but it is comfortable, old furniture dragged in, the place generally swept clean. The first floor holds a large living room, a smaller dining room, a spacious kitchen, a half-bathroom. There are three bedrooms and a full bathroom on the second floor; the attic is just a large empty space crammed full of boxes with a window out to the large flat roof.

The basement, much like the attic, consists of a lot of empty space. A bare concrete floor, no windows, occasional poles running up to the ceiling. A tiny half-bathroom down here, too. Not a whole lot else.

Friday evening and in the habit of Friday evenings, the Safehouse is just starting to get a /lot/ busier than even its usual cadre of squatters. Mutants are trickling in in ones and twos, chatting idly with the casual-loitering Brotherhood BOUNCER-guard lingering in the front room, heading on down to the basement. Dusk is only just arriving, carrying with him the crisp-cold air of chill early-spring /flight/, wings just faintly speckled with damp as he heads inside and a messenger bag slung across his chest, strap adjusted to allow his wings free movement. He's dressed in bland-boring pale jeans, oversized black sweatshirt over a blue v-neck t-shirt, and is holding in one hand a /large/ crate of clementines. That he is apparently delivering to the kitchen. Possibly for post-exercise rejuvenation.

Melinda is is exiting the restroom after one of her frequent yet rare toilet breaks. She's dressed in minty green pajamas with little white dots breaking up the large expanses of solid color. Her hair is braided up and lays over one shoulder, her face sleepy. She turns her attention to the growing number of people milling around the house and gives them all kind of a blank stare before expanding her shuffle to take her toward the kitchen as well, the munchies directing her step. She's slow going, one hand gently rubbing her belly, almost as if she's trying to keep the kid a little higher in the womb, or ... inside completely. She doesn't head immediately for the fridge or any of the food, but settles in a chair. "Hey, Dusk."

Kay's not one for sedate entrances: "HOO!" His arms throw WIDE when he breaches the entrance, the faint amount of rain that tried clinging to him evaporating with a faint /steam/ curling off his skin. Dressed in black tshirt, sleeves torn away and skinny jeans, wallet chain, RidiculousWatch, SHITKICKER boots, he's plucking off his sunglasses in a terribly David-Caruso way to eye Dusk's clementines. It's hard to dart /around/ him with all those winks, but Kay makes do trying to creeeeep a hand over Dusk's /shoulder/, reaching to snag one, "Look who's up. How's it, momma?" Yoink?

Rasputin is a bit quieter, but still tends to make an accent, talking cats tend to stand out, even for those who are used to them. Rasputin's waving a tail around, looking at /all the new people/, as ze heads in a few moments after Kay. "Woah. It's like, a party in here. A party because of really sad reasons but totally still like a party there's so many people.". Rasputin's..actually sounding kind of excited about this, as ze follows after Kay to see Dusk. "Darkwing! How are you doing I heard you got /blown up/ oh man I'm sorry if that is a sensitive topic or if I've actually asked this before I'm just. glad you're alright.". Rasputin attempts to frown, but cat faces are weird, as ze waves a tail in greeting to Melinda. "Hello!".

"Woahhey." Dusk turns with a reflexive extension of wing, curling in gentle brush-squeeze against Melinda's back. "Look at you all up and -- up. How're you /feeling/?" He sets the clementines on a counter, wings folding in snug against his back just in time for Kay's lanky arm to reach over one. His sharp upper thumb-claws twitch, but he only answers this with a slight backwards lean that would be like a shoulder -- bump. Except Kay is behind him, so it is more like bump of shoulder against /chest/. "Hey. Hey Kay. What's the /time/?" His wing shifts again slightly to wiggle in a wave to Rasputing. "I got blown /right/ the hell up," he agrees almost /proudly/. "Was shitty as /fuck/. But hey. Party now, right?"

"You'd think laying around in bed all the time would be nice and relaxing, but it's kind of like reverse psychology. As soon as you're told you can't do something, it's nigh impossible not to do. Like when your hands are full and your nose itches." Melinda waves a hand in vague annoyance. It doesn't last, Dusk' touch bringing a smile to her lips. "I'm tired. I'm sleeping like crap. How are you guys?" She looks between Dusk and Kay before looking over at Rasputin. There's a note of confusion in her tone when she says, "Hi?"

For the bump of shoulder, Kay claps down spidery-long fingers against Dusk's back and then rocks back to his heels. One thumb breaks the flesh of his clementine - the other jerks towards the feline, "That's Rapsy - ol' Rasputin? You met yet? He's stuck in a cat-body. Loooong story." Long spools of orange and white rind unroll. He jerks a chin towards Dusk, "Don't suppose /you/ got any leads on who the bastards were yet. Or how they got in the god damn building. I thought that place was like Fort Knox."

"One of intrigue, adventure, action, swashbuckling, very very long.". A small laugh from the mutant, as Rasputin closes hir eyes for a second and then opens them again. "I don't know if we've met I meet so many people I try to remember them all but it's just impossible I'm sorry.". At Kay asking Dusk about leads, Rasputin's moving over to them. "I got in there once. Maybe it was like, cat terrorists...probably not I don't know, did the security cameras get barbecued?". Ze tilts hir head briefly, before realigning. "Man how many people are even here I don't think I can count it are all of these people from your building?"

"I hate being laid up it drives me batty." Dusk perhaps doesn't notice or doesn't /care/ about this unintentional pun. He snags himself a clementine, too, and hoists himself up to sit on a counter, wings flopped out along it behind himself. "Nah, there's a lot of Lofties here but it's not /all/ us. Most people are just here for Fight Club, they'll clear out once the fighting is through." He tears at the soft rind of the clementine, starting to unwrap his as well. "Tired," he answers Melinda's question with a bright grin, "sleeping like crap. -- man there is /no/ fucking idea who the motherfuckers were." There's a sharp note of fierce hot anger that lights in his voice as he answers Kay: "It /was/ like Fort Knox. I helped build the fucking security myself. And then this /stupid fucking child/ had a /tantrum/ and took down our cameras in a goddamn fit of teenage /jealousy/."

"Goodness. So many people? I don't know how you do it. Must be so hard." Mel purses her lips and transfers her gaze from the cat back to the people shaped beings, cupping her hands and holding them out. "May I have a clementine too?" She narrows her gaze on Dusk for a moment. "You better not be having crappy sleep because you're having too much lovely sex. I might have to hate you a little for it. --- Wait, what's this about children and jealousy?" She frowns.

Fastening his teeth into his now naked fruit, Kay ignores the drip of citrus juice down his chin to swipe a second clementine. It's tossed back and forth between either hand and he has gone silent for the moment. Maybe it's because there's a thing in his teeth. But his eyes have settled on Dusk evenly, setting the fruit gently in Melinda's palm without looking to her.

Rasputin stops for a moment. "Hold on, a dude actually..took down the /security/ for the building like what the hell? What could possibly warrant that I mean seeing who /lives there/ I think those were pretty needed!". Rasputin just a bit frozen, this kind of both shocking and disgusting hir. Ze doesn't move, just in a state of thought right now, apparently.

"Mel, I'm having crappy sleep because my building just exploded and some of my closest friends died." Possibly in other circumstances Dusk would be more prone to humour; at the moment he's just tearing the skin off his clementine fiercely. He sticks a slice between his teeth, sucking the juice dry from it and spitting seeds into the sheared-off skin before mashing the rest of the citrusflesh into a pulp and swallowing it. "They were /really/ fucking needed. Jax and Liam were both /fucking home/ while that bomb was being set. If the security we'd put up had been on they would've both gotten /alerted/ to strangers and could've /stopped/ it no question."

His fingers curl tighter around his clementine. "But this fucking moron in my building got pissed off because he was /jealous/. Saw Jax's husband kissing on the cameras. /Wants/ Jax's husband. Took the inside cameras all down because he can't /have/ Jax's husband. So they didn't get alerted. And Spencer died. And Jax nearly did. And Flicker's still blind and half dead. And Liam's fucking /dead/ all because Doug is a goddamn /horny fucking teenager/." The /rest/ of the fruit in his hand has -- turned itself into a pulp. There is sticky juice dripping down his forearm and onto his knee. "I have fought beside Liam so many goddamn times -- he's pulled so many fucking people out of those labs -- you included, man." His eyes flick to Kay at this, raw anger tensing his muscles as his wings twitch restless behind him.

"Ah. Apologies." Melinda takes her clementine into her hands and begins to peel the skin off slowly. She takes a deep breath and nods slowly during Dusk's explanation, a wrinkle forming between her brows. It's a hard wrinkle, one that starts to contort the rest of her expression into one severely pained. She stops peeling half way through and lets her hands rest on what's left of her lap, biting her lip angrily as well.

"Y'say it, brother," Kay is still smiling at Dusk, behind a segment of orange, eyes sharp and angry at the far wall, "like I'd forget." His shoulders and posture remain loose and casual, stance wide. And from this unchanging ease, he BANGS a fist abruptly on the counter. Then a SECOND time, mouth compressed in that same rictus smile, and jerks an arm to -- /gently/, Kay, he eases up at the last minute -- offer Melinda an elbow. Apparently he thinks they can talk /while/ assisting her back to her room, "Doug. That's the uh - blond kid with the glasses. Entitled whitedude?"

Rasputin's eyes are also rather angry, teeth bared to show this. "And I thought that guy was nice, too, what the hell. This is a bit harsh but I'd put some of the weight of those deaths on him along with the scumbags who blew up the damn building.". A low, natural cat growl comes next, before Rasputin's moving towards out of the kitchen. "I'm just. I don't know I'm going to go do cat things.". Rasputin then leaves the kitchen, albeit in a hurry, tail wavering behind hir.

"Yeah. Entitled whitedude." In shared mental connection Dusk's anger is easy to feel even if you're /not/ looking at him, a bristling ferocity simmering just beneath the surface of his mind. He slides down off the counter, licking juice off his hand in a long swipe of tongue and shaking the pulpy mess off his palm into a trashcan. "I'm just going to be glad to have someone to fucking /beat/ on tonight."

"Ah. Fight... club?" Melinda asks quietly, looking a little. "The kid sounds like an idiot." She leaves it at that as she gets to her feet. "I should probably go lie down again. Hope the fight club helps." She heads to the refrigerator first to stock up, though.

"You and me both." Kay has that pronounced sense of just nearly-laughing. Even when his own curiously thoughtful sort of speculative black-humor fury adding to the waters of shared mind. He winks at Dusk, hanging his tongue out between his bad teeth, "Burn your wings off in a bit." And then turns to aid Melinda in whatever errands she's so stubbornly setting bout. Or barring that, he'll offer her commentary. Because he's helpful like that.