ArchivedLogs:The Hunt for Flying Guy

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The Hunt for Flying Guy
Dramatis Personae

Eve, Marinov

In Absentia


2017-04-25


"He likes this guy with this costume that flies."

Location

<NYC> Pandemonium Games - Lower East Side


Two floors of geekery, Pandemonium Games in the Lower East Side is, at first blush, a bookstore rather than a gaming store, small and cozy with aisles dedicated to sci-fi and fantasy books. The glass counter opposite the bookshelves, admittedly, does hold a wealth of cards from various collectible card games, though binders of Magic cards predominate. Bins of dice in a wide variety of colours stand at one end of the counter. It is the lower level of the store that is usually the busy one, though. The stairs leading down to the basement head first into shelves and shelves of games; board games, RPG sourcebooks, Warhammer figurines, battle mats. Beyond the shelves of goods, a much larger room is mostly bare save its many wide tables, filled at all hours with people playing tabletop games of all kinds.

It's evening, after dinner for most people. They currently have a pair of reading glasses resting on their nose as they try to make out the title of some of the nearby books, tail swaying in possible boredom. The shop is fairly quiet this evening, though there are a couple of young men standing near the front counter, discussing their last Deadlands game with the clerk there while the clerk occasionally glances to where the young mutant is standing. They wear a pair of tight, pre-torn jeans, a powder-pink button up shirt with a pair of darkly coloured suspenders. They quickly move on from examining the books to instead take a look at a far more interesting display with action figures; at least, it would seem more interesting based on the forward tilt of Marinov's ears.

Today, Eve has a white blouse and a black choker on under a nondescript hoodie! She is currently stepping into the gaming shop with a look that says she has no idea what she's doing here. Then again, she doesn't look the usual customer, really. Mostly because she just stands there. Staring. Not at Marinov, actually. She just got done eating and talking with a Lovecraftian Brainsquid, so... comparatively... This is almost normal. So. Humanoid cat-person (she couldn't identify an ocelot to save her life). Yep. This is what life is now. She walks over to the counter, to ask for help, and manages,"I have a cousin turning ten that likes comics. He likes this guy with this costume that flies. The man, not the costume." And she waits. As if she did not just offer the most unhelpful information for finding a prospective purchase.

The clerk at the counter holds up a finger to interrupt the two men, so not to talk over their recounting. "There's lots of flying guys in costumes. If you take a look at our displays..." She gestures off to some of the action figure displays, "You might be able to find something that looks like the guy. If you remember anything else about the flying guy, I can help you take a look?"

Marinov glances up at hearing the question from Eve, and they approach and ask hesitantly, "What's the costume look like? Like, do you know the colours and stuff? I could help you find it, you know, help hunt something relating to this person down." Their eyes meet with the clerk's a moment, and the clerk tenses up for a moment and she starts to type on her terminal to distract herself. "Though I guess it might be weird," adds the felinoid mutant, "to accept help from some rando you never met."

The girl opens her mouth to answer, twice. Only to find her mouth shutting twice as each person tries to help her. Eve flicks her eyes between Marinov and the clerk. Considers, then says, deliberately a little too loud,"What's her problem?" She decides to address Marinov for help instead of addressing the clerk directly,"Um... I know he flies... and it's..." She frowns, draws out her cellphone. Starts typing. Typetypetype. And then she holds up the cellphone and shows it to her, a picture of some flying hero or other "Rando. Wow. I didn't think people talked that way. Your fur... This probably sounds like a stupid question, but did you dye it that way?" Pause. "And I ask this because it came up. Recently. Do you read minds?" Is... is she just going to ask every obvious mutant that?

The clerk shrugs when Eve decides to go with Marinov's help, and she instead goes back to listening to the young men talking about their game.

Marinov tilts their head slightly at Eve's question, "Whoa. Do you... think I read minds? That's a... hmm. I can't read minds. What makes you ask that? Lots of... mind reading types might not really disclose it readily, 'cause of the risk to their well-being and all," says Marinov, nodding along awkwardly. "And yeah. I started saying shit like that ironically and it stuck. The lesson is that you shouldn't say anything ironically or else you'll say it for real eventually and then it's part of you forever. Anyways, I had someone do my fur, though. In my natural colours, I have like, spots? Rosettes? Something, I'll google it, but first..." They look through the reading glasses at the screen of Eve's phone and nod a few times, "Yeah, I know this guy, hm... here come on."

"Because I was talking to this dude down the way, and I was sort of thinking about how cute he was and he kept dropping hints he could read my mind, but I didn't really get it until AFTERWARD and it was, like, really embarrassing. So now I'm kinda, like, paranoid about not thinking embarrassing things, except if you try not to think about something, you always think about it andohgodI'mdoomed." Take a breath, Eve.

After sucking down some sweet, sweet oxygen, she gives a thumbs up to show she is OKAY. "It's very nice. You managed to accessorize your body hair. Now I'm really thinking I gotta go to this guy whose card I got." She makes a face and follows along behind Marinov, still looking oh-so-lost.

Marinov can't help but to laugh and say, "Yeah, well, you can go ahead and think I look cute all you want. I'm sure not gonna hear it. Got sensitive ears, but not /that/ sensitive." They start wandering through some of the selection of books that the store has, tracing a finger lightly along the spines of them as they pass. "Whose card have you got? I'd be surprised to find another colorist as talented as the person who did my fur. And yeah, I mean, fur looking like this, I've got different outfit options than if I were spotty, yeah? Opens up all kinds of possibilities. But I'll probably go back to natural soon. For a bit."

The girl flushes all over again. What is with her and blushing these days!? "I... that's not... I just met... I don't even know if..." She just shuts up. Right then and there. "My life is very confusing right now. It's just going to get harder as I get older, I think." She makes a face and follows the ocelot, after fishing out Tag's card to show them. "Nothing wrong with going au naturale. That probably means naked. I should probably choose a different term. Please ignore the giant foot in my mouth. It's tastier than it looks."

"Oh, yeah, I wouldn't go around naked or anything," laughs Marinov, "That'd be like. Super uncomfortable for me. I know some people think, 'you can go naked, you've got a fur coat', but... I'd still be naked and it'd be weird." They take Tag's card to examine it for a moment and say, "Ah! You found the only stylist as good as the one I used. Tag made this look happen. Well, the fur. The clothes are all me."

"Sounds like the mutant community in NYC is pretty tightly knit." She tucks her hands in her pockets and continues to try to reassure Marinov,"I swear I'm not trying to hit on you or get you naked. Not that that would be..." She waves her hands in the air suddenly. "No. No. I'm not going down that road. I've seen boys start the apology circle. Let me try again." She stops walking, thrusts out a hand, and declares firmly. "Hi. My name is Eve. It's nice to meet you. I know nothing about comics, but I love fashion and would love to spend the next few minutes while we hunt these comics speaking in a non-awkward way with you. I have however accepted the increasingly diminishing likelihood of me accomplishing this."

Marinov nods and turns to take Eve's hand in their paw-like hand, "I am Marinov. Taylor Marinov. I love fashion too. I make most of my own clothes and I want to be a fashion designer. I don't know a bunch about comics, but I like some of the artists and writers." They nod once firmly and then add, "And... yeah, I think around here, the mutant community is pretty tight knit. Or at least in the sorta neighbourhood here? Honestly, I'm not sure. I think lots of us are probably just, like, super recognizable? And it's alright. I can handle awkward conversation. I'm tough, yeah?"

"I'm glad one of us is. I'm a huge marshmallow. Like seriously." Pause. "Taylor. So... that's... two Taylors in one day. Um. Do you prefer Marinov? Because otherwise, the other Taylor I met is Taylor Prime and you get to be Taylor Secundus. And that gets cumbersome after a while." Riiiight. "So you make clothing. So, like... bespoke fanciness? People pay a lot of money for that around here." She shakes the... paw, and seems surprised,"Oh wow, that's really soft." She reclaims her hand a moment later because petting someone you just met and calling them 'good kitty' is probably weird, and also very creepy.

"Huh? Was... Taylor the cute mind-reader you met by any chance?" asks Marinov, laughing awkwardly, "It really is a small world... I usually go by Marinov, yeah, so that's fine. Or Tay, sometimes. And... yeah, I make clothes custom, especially for mutants like me with different proportions. Haven't had as much time for it lately, but soon I'll get back on it." They look at their own hand a moment once Eve lets go, wiggling their fingers a bit, "Yeah, my fur is pretty soft. But then, your skin seems not too bad either, so we're pretty even on that, I bet. So, you are looking for a flying guy comic for a gift? Or you want an action figure or something?"

"Was that a weird thing to say? That was a weird thing to say-" Oh wait. She's being complimented. Yeah. Cue blushing again. She holds up her own hand, eyeballing it critically. She clearly doesn't like what she sees. "I moisturize a lot." Right. Eve looks up then,"Yeah, yeah he was. Um... has tentacles, really pleasant dark skin?" She probably could've ended at 'tentacles'. "Anyway, I don't know what I'm looking for. I barely know my cousin. But I wanna make it good. I don't really get to see him much for... reasons."

"Yeah, that sounds like the Taylor I am thinking of. He's really cool, sounds like you've got good taste," says Marinov, stopping with a finger on one of the book spines. They squint lightly and then pull it off of the shelf to flip through some pages, "I guess it's hard to give a book, isn't it? Like, you don't know what he might have read, yeah? Maybe an action figure would be more... safe?" They give a bit of a helpless shrug and add, "I hope we find something that he'll like. Prosti, that you don't get to see him much, does he live far away?"

"He's a nice guy. He even let me pretend that he totally hadn't hear me thinking about his biceps or anything." She looks at the spine of the book, and after a moment, spreads her arms,"Action figure sounds good. I have some money saved up, so something good shouldn't be too out of line... It's more uh..." She makes a face,"Oh, what the hell. It's come up several times today. They think he'll catch the gay from me. That he'll start wearing dresses and shit." A shrug follows. "I dunno. Seems like the whole family moved her from Cuba once my parents made it."


"'Catch the gay', huh?" says Marinov as they tuck the book back where it came from. They start back towards the display they were looking at before. They mull over Eve's words mentally for a few moments and then remark sympathetically, "So they like... mix up orientation and gender and stuff? Geez. I know how that is. Sorta. My parents are good, but some of my other family can't be assed to remember my pronouns. Prosti, that they are not more understanding." They pick up one of the action figure boxes to examine it curiously. "This one's not too expensive, and it looks like a good model."

The girl reaches out for the box, offering,"I really... don't know. Honestly. Not... really my sort of thing. Action figures. You're the expert here. So... why was that lady at the counter giving you the hairy eyeball?" She is quiet on the tone of her family, though. Indeed, Eve mulls over her response for a good handful of seconds,"They're not bad people, really. They just don't get it. It's not like they hate me. They just... are doing what they think is best for my cuz, mostly because they don't understand... THIS." She gestures to her skirt. "Doesn't make it more pleasant for me, you know? But I still get birthday cards from them. They still ask after me when they talk to my parents. They'll even stop by to chat when I'm working. Just not with their kid." She shrugs. "I'm sort of hoping a good gift will make sure he doesn't forget his cuz. We used to talk about stuff. It was like having a little brother. Still, I get it. Abuela still deadnames me. Dad can't compliment me on my clothes. Mom... She sort of bounces between missing her son and wanting to have girl talk so much that I'm getting whiplash."

"Yeah, I don't think it sounds like they are bad people, but it's not great to have to deal with that either, is all I mean. But... yeah. I think I get what you mean. Sometimes people do their best and don't really know what is best, yeah? They mean well enough," says Marinov as their ears flick a couple of times. "And, I dunno why she was giving me that look. I think she thinks that I'm gonna steal or something. Or bite someone. Or give someone a disease. I try not to think too hard about why people give me that look, I think it just comes with having a serious case of monsterface. Anyways, this action figure seems like a winner to me."


“You don’t have a case of monsterface, though. I mean, forgive the phrase please, but you have a serious case of KITTYface, which doesn’t feel super-threatening.” A pause. “Not that I mean to infantilize you or anything. It’s just, I’m not sure monster is the proper way to describe you.” Kittyface. Yeah. Eve just said that. She nods to the action figure though as the decision is made to buy it. “They should be giving you commission since you’re basically selling their products for them.”

"I mean, yeah, I agree that I'm not all that threatening looking. Well. I'm not more threatening than, like, a puma." They tap their mouth lightly with a finger thoughtfully at their own statement, unsure of how scary pumas are. "But, it doesn't really matter, I guess. 'cause plenty of people would see a monster no matter how cute and cuddly I looked, yeah?" They shrug lightly and say, "I just like dolls and action figures and stuff. I like to build them and like, customize them and dress them up and stuff. So I don't need to take their money, they're fun to look at."

“Honestly, the initial reflex is to hug or something like that, not running screaming, or the like.” Eve offers a smile as she holds up the action figure they’ve picked, turning it this way and that. “They put so much detail into these. I always just thought of them as crappy plastic figurines with some paint slapped on. My parents used to buy this stuff for me when I was younger. I still dressed them up and stuff, you know. But if this is what Jaime likes, then this is what Jaime gets.” She gives a little companionable bump of her shoulder,”Well… I can… call you Tiger, if you like. That’s pretty ferocious. Screw everyone else who can’t see how awesome you are.”

"Tiger?" repeats Marinov, ears turning up to attention when they are bumped by Eve. They look at her a moment with unblinking eyes. "Hmm. Well, I guess you can call me whatever you want, really. I just might not answer." They laugh softly and say, "And I'm glad I'm not that cute, 'cause I'm not much of a hugger. Like. I've hugged people, yeah? I just... I dunno. I guess I've always been a bit aloof?"

“It has always been my policy not to run around grabbing people I’ve never met without permission. It’s kind of my thing.” Right. “I’ll probably just call you Marinov, though, because… you know… that’s your name.” She shrugs helplessly. “Not everyone is touchy-feelie, and that’s cool. We are in my family because that’s how you greet each other. Hugs. Kisses on the cheek for old friends.” Though things have been a bit strained as of late. “I think it’s less a question of cute or fierce, and more… unique. I don’t think there’s a descriptor that quite covers your look. And that’s okay. People can look at you and say ‘oh, that’s Marinov’ and probably picture you easily. No need to boil everything down to easily digestible bites.”

"Yeah, I mean, I think I look cool, but I've always thought that I had a pretty cool look going on. Other people just don't appreciate me the way that I do," sighs Marinov in an exaggerated way, "Anyhow... hmm, you feeling like you're all set with the gift and all? Spasibo, for letting me help you hunt something down. Thrill of the hunt and all that, yeah?"