ArchivedLogs:Nothing Personal

Nothing Personal
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Hive, Jason, Melinda, Tola
In Absentia	2014-07-20 '
Location <NYC> Tompkins Square Park - East Village
Small but popular, this tree-lined park is a perfect centerpiece to the eclectic neighborhood it resides in. Home to a number of playgrounds and courts from handball to basketball, it also houses a dog park and chess tables, providing excellent space for people watching -- especially during its frequent and often eccentric festivals, from Wigstock to its yearly Allen Ginsberg tribute Howl festival. Sunday afternoon finds Tompkins Square rather bustling -- and why wouldn't it be, really, sunny and pleasantly not-too-hot, the perfect way to end the weekend before work starts up again for many. Admid the bustle of dogs romping in the dog park and the thwack-thwack of balls on the tennis court and people arguing over the chess tables and frisbees flying back and forth, mostly the only noise Hive is currently adding to the park is a quiet whirr of motor. The young man is perched in a motorized scooter, the mobility device really only /adding/ to his general air of Unhealth -- skeletally thin, naturally-tan complexion managing to hold a /pallor/, dark circles around his half-lidded almond eyes, a fleecey red cap pulled down over his head (it has the greek letters Theta Tau embroidered in gold on its front) that doesn't quite /completely/ hide the lack of hair beneath, his faded jeans and black t-shirt (it reads 'ceci n'est pas une lune' beneath a picture of the Death Star) hanging far too baggy on his emaciated frame. At the moment the scooter is edging forward on one of the pathways. Then back. Then forward a little more. Inchinchinch. One might think Hive is a little /confused/ about where he's heading, or perhaps his scooter is malfunctioning? Back-forth-back-forth -- but finally he stops with a satisfied, "-- /there/." His eyes are focused down on his phone, the screen lit up in glowing shades of blue and green. Though his eyes are focused intently on his screen at the moment, there's a bright /alertness/ to the telepath's mind, drinking in the myriad thoughts that skate across the surfaces of the minds around him. In comparison to Hive, Dusk looks the /picture/ of health at the moment -- save his stark pallor as well, at least, but past that he's strong, wiry-muscled and carrying himself upright and confident. It's a confidence that /defies/ the many (/many/) stares he accumulates here in the park -- his /clothes/ (black cargo shorts, Vans sneakers, a blue-and-white striped v-neck tee, sunglasses) entirely nondescript but the /enormous/ black (sharp-clawed) (batlike) wings tucked in against his back drawing /quite/ a few stares. If he notices the staring he doesn't seem fussed by it (not even at the muttered "freak" as a pair of young men pass by him and Hive), more intent on the very similar screen on his phone. Glowing blue, glowing green -- well, one /less/ green at the moment, as one of the glowy lights flares red and then fades into grey. "Statue of Charity's grey if you want it?" One of his wings is stretching out to tap at Hive's arm indicatively. Melinda is following down the path at a somewhat slower speed - which is strange as Hive and Dusk busily shifting back and forth in certain locations with their heads down, performing some sort of strange dance. She is introducing the small green baby strapped to her chest to some of the flora around them, particularly the flowers and the way they smell. The mother is wearing a long burned gold skirt that brushes the ground behind her when she stands up straight, pleats and folds at the hem line giving it ridiculous fullness. Her top is black, small capped sleeves peeking out at her shoulders, while lengths of blue fabric wrap around her torso in several differ swaths to keep the child secure. The infant is facing outward, a small cap of white petals covering her head, her legs hanging loosely below. Tiny little fingers grasp at the daisy Mel is presenting her with, ruining it as they curl around the petals with inexpert infant dexterity. Melinda looks up when the pair speak, her brows raising as she smiles, a slow shake shifting the braid of hair down her back. "How many portals are in this park?" Jason was here, well, to be frank, he needed some fresh air and decided to go for a drive around town, in a since. This drive lead him to here at the park, where the young man himself was enjoying the stroll along the park. From a quick glance of the man, he is a rather fit guy, a nice athletic build really. He had military cut dirty blonde hair, with his amber brown eyes covered over by a pair of blue, reflective aviator shades. He also seem like he might need a little bit of a shave. Over his body was a dark tan under armor shirt one would fine many military types wearing under there BDUs, and he like to wear his cause it was actually pretty comfortable really. He had on a pair of jeans and then a military styled boots. Tucked into his shirt was also his own dog tags. It seems you could take the man out of the service, but not the service out of the man. Then again, Jason was on reserve status right now, so one had to keep up the look just encase he ever got called back in. As he does walk though, his eyes fall onto the bat-man and the ghoul.. at least in his mind that is what he has slightly dubbed them. He shakes his head slightly, before going to lean against a tree and watch the two for a bit. Though his eyes do fall over to the young woman with a-- plant child. He can only stare at that and then look over the ridge of his shades. Though he does go back to just observing for the most part. I mean really, they have to be use to getting stared at, right? Though he does try to not make it completely obvious. Generally obvious and obvious to a telepath are two different things; Hive's lips twitch -- they've been doing that a lot, really. There are quite a /few/ stray thoughts that circulate around Dusk and his giant black wings. "Eleven actually properly /in/ the park," he answers Mel, not looking up as he traces a series of patterns against his screen. Only then does he tip his head back, turning a small smile up at the flower-child. "But there's another -- two dozen or so right along the edges that are all pretty easy to hit if you do a circuit around here. Kinda count them all as Tompkins Square. -- He prefers it," without much /warning/ he's switching his conversation from Mel to Jason, tossing a lopsided /grin/ over towards the military man, "if you call him Edward. /Much/ cooler a comparison than fucking Batman, come on." "Hyeah you can make a pretty solid forty-ish portal farm if you -- doesn't /last/, though, this park changes hands every --" Dusk's /other/ wing is shifting out to carefully brush a fuzzy edge against Tola's cheek before curling around behind Mel's shoulders for a small squeeze. But his words cut off at Hive's remark, brows hiking up high from behind his dark glasses. His hand lifts as though about to /thwap/ the telepath on the back of the head but -- in his mind there's a sharp /ping/ that reminds him of the sutured surgery-site freshly drilled into Hive's /skull/ beneath that cap. Which doesn't spare his roommate his beating, it just means that rather than a thwap on the back of the head, his wing swipes down to whap against Hive's shoulder. << Fucker. >> It's more amused than it is sharp and his head turns to follow Hive's grin towards its target. His /own/ smile, bright and wide a moment later, makes Hive's reference a little bit clearer -- when his grin flashes it is with two long and /very/ sharp sets of fangs glinting in his mouth. "It's neither. /Darkwing/. Terror that flaps in the night, y'know. Well, okay, it's mid-afternoon. But I do /like/ the nighttime." Melinda does a good job of noticing people who notice her now a days. She doesn't have extrasensory perception or heightened observation skills, but she does have a mother's instinct and a fair bit of paranoia when it comes to bringing her daughter out into public. She glances in Jason's direct once or twice while he's staring, but as he seems to be keeping his distance, she pays him no mind. The hug is welcome and the brush against her daughter's cheek brings a slightly delayed - that flower is so distracting as she has her hands on it so tight - reaction. Tola bats the flowerfilled hand at his wing when it pulls away, glancing up at the shiny sunglasses. "Huh. Twenty? I can see why it'd be a popular place to hang out." She wets her lips and pauses, listening as the 'watcher' is pulled into the conversation. All she adds at this point is, "you're a duck now? You growing a bill? Horus will be pleased." Jason was contently standing there at least till Hive made it apparently he was a mind reader. That got the military man to furrow his brows before he crosses his arms over his chest. The thoughts from him were-- not pleasant ones, after all-- telepaths, it was hard to block stray thoughts when you are not trained too and the military /sure/ don't teach that. Yet the words that come from his lips are much more friendlier, at least to a point. "As in twilight Edwards? Ha. I honestly think someone like Meier Link or the guy from Interview with a Vampire." He may be in his mid 20s, but that doesn't stop him from knowing some classics. Then when Dusk speaks up, including flashing the grin, Jason looks over his shades at those teeth, once more thoughts betraying him along the lines 'all the better to bite you with right', though he was keeping his cool. Even if in all things-- Jason was no fan of mutants. "I suppose Darkwing works too, but that means you need like.. what.. a Launchpad?" He then looks over to Hive about then. Jason at last removes himself from his tree leaning post and decides to walk over, even if he may not be a fan of them and has a great dislike for the mutants, it doesn't mean he can't at least, well, be nice. Then again, darker things lie in this man's mind. Including maybe the stray thought or two about if something works. "Anyways, sorry for the interruptions, though uh," He continues to keep his sights on Hive, "Not use to mind reader, more of the fake people who read palms and just try to steal money." "I admit.. between your buddy there with the fangs and you able to read my mind, which is-- what I am guessing you can do right? You two make a slightly frightening pair. Kinda makes me wonder how that new police group is going to handle something like that..." Jason doesn't even /pull/ Melinda into this, not even her daughter. Perhaps that is due to the fact she is a woman or, just cause there is a lack of a threat there. Yeah, he is apparently really bugged by Hive, but that is a common 'mundane' reaction right? To get aggressive with just the thought that someone can read there mind? Hive twists his bony shoulder inwards, rocking forward with even a light thwap of a blow -- not in any real pain, he's laughing, agreeing cheerfully with Jason: "Yeah, like that dude. Dusk really appreciates how romantic he was. Good role model for vampires everywhere." Maybe he is just looking to /invite/ further abuse. "It's okay," he informs Jason, "he only bites people consensually." He rolls back upward to settle back in his seat, slowly turning his scooter around to face Jason a little bit better. "Frightening, sure, I mean, he did say the /terror/ that flaps in the night, right? Not the cuddly snugglybunny that flaps in the night." He's flicking a glance up to Dusk's gentle touch against the tiny green infant's cheek with maaaybe kind of a smirk. Terrifying. "Growing a bill, though, would kind of cramp his style in the kissing department." The smile fades at the mention of the police group, though. Reflexively his gaze shifts down towards Dusk's ankle. Dusk's ankle bears, notably, a boxy black electronic monitor strapped around it that he has not actually /bothered/ to try and hide. Perhaaaps figuring that it doesn't really /matter/ since, well, out in public everyone stares anyway and usually a good deal more at the wings than at the giveaway hey-look-a-/criminal/ ankle monitor. "Mmm." He seems to give the Launchpad question serious consideration. His head tips forward slowly to bonk his forehead veeery lightly against the petally top of Tola's head. "How do you feel about becoming a /pilot/, huh? Fly with me some day? I could use a sidekick." And yes, the continued Twilight reference earns Hive /another/ thwap. "Horus already has a Ducky of his very own, though," he reminds Mel. His smile /sharpens/ at the talk of police. "Dude, we've been dealing with the fucking thugs on the NYPD a long-ass time. I'm sure they're going to handle it like abusive bullies same as ever." "Pfff. It's Dusk. I'm sure he'd figure out how to make kissing with a bill amazing." Mel smiles sweetly and glances down at Hive's phone instead of Dusk's ankle. "You got enough hacks? Want to hold Tola? My back is starting to hurt." She glances over at Jason and studies him for a moment, turning her attention back to Dusk when the flying comments sink in. "Just like you, wanting to take her flying before she's even learned to crawl." Jason hasn't been in New York that long, he came here for-- reasons, so he wasn't fully sure what he was looking at but given that Hive looked there when Police was brought up and possible sudden maybe aggressive tone from Dusk. There may be a hint here, but it isn't a hint he throws together fully. "I don't know, you can be cuddly and frightening at the same time perhaps." Jason gives a shrug of his shoulders, before he looks over to Dusk, "And Gotcha.. maybe." Jason gives Dusk a quick once over, before he takes a slight step back. His hands then go into his pockets as he continues to stand there a bit. "Well, nothing personal when I say this.. but sometimes takes monsters to handle monsters. After all, look at what becomes of some people in my own line of business, which yes, is the military." "Guys who forget what they are fighting for and just enjoy the thrill of the bullet." Jason shakes his head at that, though he does find himself bringing his attention to the child. There was a moment of a frown on his face and his own thought on the child of more of sorrow for her really. Then he watches how Melinda acts, including perhaps an assumption really. Jason glances away for a moment as he shifts his weight. Though he brings his hands back out as he gives a minor furrow of his brows, rubbing the palm of his left hand, before he decides to step away from the group continuing to rub his hand a bit as if something was sticking him, or his hand was cramping up. At least that is how it would remind someone. He gives his hand a little shake before he looks back at the group, "Anyways, sorry for the interruption to you guys hang out. But thanks for.." He then pauses for a moment as he goes to place his hand to his forehead as he gets spiked by a headache, another headache again-- only this time.. he notes to himself. he feels dizzy. He closes his eyes for a moment behind the shadows before he tries to recompose himself. "But.. um.. thanks for the talk.." and then starts to make his way away from the group. Hive's expression softens, hands reaching up to beckon towards Tola. "C'mon, Phli." The Thai nickname sounds a lot like /flea/ but then -- Tola /is/ quite small. "I'll teach you how to hack portals, yeah? Well." He eyes the tiny green hands pensively. "Maybe after you learn a little motor control." The softness of expression that he turns to their daughter vanishes entirely at Jason's comments. His jaw tightens, lips thinning. "Monsters, fuck you. You know what the fucking NYPD's been up to, cockmunch? Kidnapping /kids/ off the streets and making them kill each other for /entertainment/, is that how you're supposed to fucking /handle us?" The headache only /worsens/ for Jason with a brief sharp /throb/ of mental energy squeezing in at the other man's mind, though the painful pulse from Hive quiets down soon, at least. A low growl rumbles deep in Dusk's chest; in his /mind/ there's a hazy-red spike of something sharp-clawed and fierce that lances through his thoughts. The growl doesn't /end/ when he speaks -- with two sets of vocal cords he's perfectly capable of speaking right /over/ the low roll of thunder than grates under his words. His wings shift outward, mantling kind of /protectively/ behind Mel and Tola, behind Hive's chair, and now the baring of his fangs is not smile at all. "You want to /see/ a fucking monster, call us that again." Melinda undoes the knot and slips the lengths of fabric off her shoulders and slowly loosens its hold on the infant, unwrapping her entirely and turning to plant the sprout in the thin man's lap. She stays close though, inwardly relieved to have the kid out of her arms so that she can also stand between her loved ones and a possible threat. "Calling anyone a monster is more than a little unacceptable. Just a heads up, if you have to pre-excuse yourself for a comment, it's probably best not to say it out loud." Jason's headache was only worsened by Hive's own aggression and the man spun around snappily. Those shades were not hiding his eyes this time as he was looking over the ridges and when they were a normal amber, human like eyes, now-- now something was off with them, almost gold in color and the pupil was cat light. "Nice to know you two take it so /personal/, even when I said not too." He then sneers slightly. "But guess what. I'm not starting this. Not here! Not now!" Jason says as he swings his hand out wide and then turns away, rubbing his forehead, before taking notice of his hands for a moment. Looking down at his finger tips with some puzzlement for a moment, before he grits his teeth in slight minor pain. 'Seriously.' Jason thinks to himself, 'Fucking seriously...' His thoughts go back to what someone told him, that effects are delayed.. or something along those lines.. including stay in touch. Yeah-- this be a good time to get /back/ in touch. He then looks at Melinda before he glances at her, then away, and back at her again. Perhaps-- she and the child was the only he wasn't starting this and he takes his leave. Rather promptly at that, yet something though-- was very wrong. "Not worth it, dude." Hive's voice is low, though there's a faint prickle-ripple of mental energy that shivers up against Mel and Dusk and Tola's minds. There's almost -- aaaalmost -- amusement in his tone with the addition (... through his /teeth/), "I hope you trip in front of a bus and die, man, but -- don't take that /personal/, okay? Everyone's so touchy." One arm curls around Tola, a bony seatbelt for the child placed in his lap. "/Could/ you take her flying?" He's looking down at Tola now instead of Jason. "A good secure baby harness, I bet she'd love it." Dusk's huge wings stay mantled outward but his tensed posture relaxes as Mel shifts in front of them and Jason starts to walk away. The red haze over his thoughts doesn't /entirely/ leave, but he makes a concerted effort to rein in the urge for violence. He rubs fingers underneath his glasses, a hint of /puzzlement/ in his mind at that brief glimpse of eyes -- maybe he imagined it? He isn't quite sure. What he is sure of is: "... fucking /asshole/." But he pulls in a breath and considers Tola thoughtfully. "Yeah. I have adult-sized harnesses I can take people in but it wouldn't be hard to make a good secure one for the sprout either. Kinda up to --" His wing twitches out to indicate Mel and Hive. "but it'd definitely be possible to make one that's safe and strong. Mmngh. Anyone want a coffee? I seriously need something to chase out the taste of douchebag." "Ahh... Talk to Micah about it. She's still kind of a cartilaginous mass, barely enough muscle control to keep her head up. He'd have an idea of what a baby harness would need for flight." Mel starts to relax slowly, moving around to the side of Hive's chair, wrapping an arm around his shoulders as she leans over him to brush her fingers against her daughter's cheek. "I'd love a coffee," Mel admits, << with a shot of Irish whiskey. >> she thinks, but immediately knows she shouldn't. She just closes her eyes for a second, kisses the side of Hive's neck, then straightens. "You want me to go get it while you two finish hacking?" One of Hive's arms stays curled around Tola, but his other lifts to trace shaky fingers down against Mel's arm, his eyes closing for a moment. The breath he lets out is quietly more content, a peaceful expression settling back into his face at the kiss. He turns his head, brushing a small kiss to Mel's temple before she straightens. "The coffee or the whiskey?" His smile is lopsided. "'cuz I think a little of /both/ would be pretty good. Is one shot going to be terrible? Just straight-up coffee, I guess, if one shot is going to stunt Tola for life." "Hrrm. Yeah, I'll see what Micah says about flying babies." Dusk slides his wing around Mel's shoulders again once she straightens, squeezing in brief and snug. His wings fold back against his back, shoulders /just/ a little tenser for the added stares that unfurling those wings has drawn to him. "... whiskey?" He missed that mental snippet. "Uh." He tugs his wallet out of his pocket, pulling out a few bills to offer Mel. "That'd be -- awesome, thanks. With or without -- whiskey. Should get my hacking in first, though, I suspect my glyphing wouldn't be improved with booze." "I... will buy a bottle of whiskey to bring home and coffee for now. Maybe we can booze it up when you're done hacking." Mel appreciates the affection and wishes to run back home immediately and hide from people who throw the word monster around and expect to be excused for it. She's also taking mental stock of the number of bags of frozen milk she has in the fridge. It's plenty for a night of drinking if she chooses. Thank science for breast pumps. "Get going, you two. I am looking forward to seeing a number of fields when I get back." "S'gonna be so fucking blue here -- {Sorry} Phli green /is/ a pretty colour but, shit, /mind/ control?" Hive smile is wrrrry. "Who can get behind that?" He squeeze Mel's arm one more time and then drops his hand back to his phone. Enough shenanigans, there is /serious/ work to get done.