ArchivedLogs:Best Friends

Best Friends
Dramatis Personae Doug, Dusk
In Absentia	2014-09-25 '
Location <NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side
Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to plentiful artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse. Evolve is jumping tonight. Above, the muted noise of the club can be heard as the night takes hold and those die-hard party types hit the floor. Downstairs, in the coffee shop, it is less jumping, although there's a fair crowd to be seen. A couple of mirror-image twins take up one table, a chess game between them. Nearby, Rosallie of the magenta hair sits with her laptop open, her purple locks pulled up into a pony tail that bobs as she talks to her two companions -- a girl clad in black with neon blue streaks in her hair and a young man whose skin looks like the rough braiding of a rope -- and types with blinding speed. There are humans here, as well, in line and taking up tables with similar pursuits and groupings. It's terribly normal, given the current climate in the city. Thursday nights are not, typically, 'date' nights, despite the thumping club upstairs. There's still one more day in the work and school week, after all. Hardly a time for romance, let along partying. At least for the sane. That's okay, though, because Doug is not in Evolve for a date -- /or/ romance. Not strictly speaking, anyway. This is evidenced by his attire -- jeans and a blue shirt with a TARDIS rendered in Van Gogh's 'Starry Night' style, along with bright red sneakers. Also the laptop he currently has open in front of him, balanced carefully next to an oversized cup of coffee that smells of cinnamon and cardamon. He doesn't seem to be overly focused on either of those, though, his attention blipping between the screen and the windows of the coffeeshop. Perhaps looking for someone. Perhaps whoever sent the text messages he keeps checking in between blips. Dusk at least makes a remarkably /identifiable/ figure as he hastens in the door, enormous wings tending to draw attention initially away from the rather nondescript look the /rest/ of him has -- black corduroys, a little bit overlong and scuffed-fraying at the hems, Vans sneakers, a blue-green henley shirt. He has a backpack strapped not to his back but to his chest, one single diagonal strap on it that he's wrapped between his wings; the strap unclips at its base, saving him having to actually work it /over/ the wings when he goes to take a seat. He spins a chair around backwards to the table, carefully setting down his bag as he circles a fist apologetically against his heart. "Shit, man, I didn't mean to keep you waiting, things got kind of -- s'never fucking /boring/ you know? Hive got arrested, I got held up with --" His head shakes, fist circling his heart again. Doug visibly relaxes when Dusk appears, and leans back to offer a warm smile (a bit careful around the edges, but warm) to the other man as he approaches. "It's okay," he says. "Gave me time to work on some stuff." He pulls his laptop a bit closer as he sits back upright, closing it gently. The apology gets a tall hike of his eyebrows, and he whistles low. "Arrested? What for? Did he finally take a swing at someone?" His words are more flip than his expression, his brows falling into a tight knot above his nose as he shakes his head. "I didn't mean -- it's okay," he repeats, exhaling heavily. "You want some coffee, or a muffin or something?" Dusk's lips twitch up into a smile, but it's a little bit strained around its edges with a worry that doesn't, at least, seep into his amused tone. "These days? He'd be more likely to topple /himself/ over just /trying/ anything like that. He gets up enough strength to deck someone, I'll throw him a gorram party." His head shakes, the smile evening out into just plain amusement. "Uh, so far as I've heard he -- offered to hug a cop? Guess that's a crime now." His head shakes, fingers raking through his hair as he rests a knee on the backwards chair. "He /and/ Micah /and/ B, actually. But they're all out now. Shit, I could go for a coffee. Maybe some --" He squints over towards the menu boards. "Sweet potato and kale soup. That sounds excellent. Need anything?" He's slipping his wallet out of his pocket as he stands, nodding towards the counter. Doug chuckles a hollow-sounding sound, and shakes his head. "If that happens, take a picture of it, so we'll have it on record. Everyone can have a copy." He manages a grin, and lifts a shoulder. When Dusk elaborates, his eyebrows shoot up again. "Wait. Hive was offering /hugs/? Hive?" He blinks, eyes narrowing as he visibly tries to work /that/ image out in his mind. "I mean, I can see Micah and maybe B offering hugs -- even to cops, although probably not B in that instance." There's a big intake of air that's a fair indication that Doug might be a bit babbly at the moment. He wrinkles his nose at the offer, and glances over at the menu before flashing a grin at Dusk and fishing out his own wallet. "Actually, there's these lemon-rosemary cupcakes up there? If you snag one for me, I'll totally be your best friend." "Freak accident," Dusk explains, tone solemn though his black eyes are dancing with amusement. "Literally. Some chick with some kind of -- I don't even fucking /know/, vomits rainbows all over everyone and they turn into sunshine and happiness? I'm sorry I missed it, word is it made Hive into a goddamn Care Bear." His chin lifts in acknowledgment of Doug's request, fanged teeth flashing in a smile. "Man, /everything/ sounds delicious. Lemon-rosemary. Got it." He doesn't actually stick around long enough for Doug to get /money/ out of his wallet, just heading up to the counter with his own. He's back before too long, with a large vanilla soy latte, bowl of soup, lemon-rosemary cupcake and a vegan chocolate-chocolate chip cookie on the side. He sets the cupcake down in front of Doug after setting his own tray down. "So, uh, best friend. I kind of need your help on something." His tone is still light, though there's a faint thread of tension tightening the sharp angles of his wings behind him. Doug exhales through his nose in amusement at the description, and rolls his shoulders. "As mutations go, it's not the worst," he offers. "Making people happy and colorful? Isn't that kind of what Jax and Tag do? Sort of? Without the vomiting?" He leaves that question for pondering as Dusk heads to the counter, watching the other young man as he places his order. When Dusk returns, Doug is all about helping him get settled, moving his laptop out of the way and helping to transfer items from the tray. Once that's done, he settles back, pursing his lips at the statement. "/My/ help?" he echoes, his tone suddenly uncertain. "With what?" A wince, and he tries again, glancing at the windows before looking back and tapping his chest. "Um. I mean -- /my/ help?" "I'm pretty sure Tag could vomit rainbows if he /wanted/," Dusk muses as he settles back in, "but it'd just be, uh, gross and vomity and not so much with the happydrugs. Though working together /with/ an empath --" He breaks off here, a small crooked smile on his lips as he tucks a knee beneath himself on the chair. His sharp teeth drag light and slow against his bottom lip, wings twitching as he watches Doug's reaction. "Yeah, um. Your help." And here /he/ seems a little uncertain, fingers lacing around his warm cup and then unlacing. Relacing. After a small sip of (far-too-hot) coffee, though, he can't procrastinate much longer on talking. "It's with the program you wrote. For the security cams." The thought of Tag vomiting rainbows gets a twitch of an almost-smile from Doug, but he's wrapped up in the idea that's been put in front of him. His brow knits, and he leans forward to scratch at his hair, reddening when Dusk says what help he actually needs. "Oh. Um. I didn't..." He wrinkles his nose, and leans back in his chair, staring at the window. "I didn't change anything in it," he blurts. "The program, I mean. Before...." he presses his lips together, and reaches out to break off a bit of cupcake to lift to his mouth, He nibbles thoughtfully for a moment, then looks back at Dusk, his brow wrinkling as he speaks slowly. "I took out...those buggy lines, but the rest is...still intact." The look he gives the other man now is a bit sheepish, and he circles his fist over his heart. "I'm babbling. I can. Help." He shoves the bite of cupcake into his mouth, and licks his fingers. "I guess you're using it for the new place." Dusk's head bobs in a nod, tongue dipping out to lick some of the foam off the top of his coffee. "Been using it there, yeah." He's quiet, a hint of red touching his too-pale cheeks as well. "But a couple weeks ago we had a -- I mean, wasn't like we could've /done/ anything about it because it was the fucking /cops/. But there was a raid and they were swarming /all/ the hell over the place and. I was talking to Jim after and it just set us to thinking that, like, okay, cops coming to make arrests isn't the kind of thing we'd be trying to /fight/ off anyway but like -- if that had been fucking /HAMMER/ or something just coming for a slaughter we wouldn't have --" His wings twitch restlessly, head shaking once sharply. "Jim was asking about modifying it to pick up on some other traits too. Alert for, like, big groups or big groups in /uniform/ or -- but that kind of nuance, that's your bag. I'm just the systems guy. I don't think I could refine it like that myself." "A raid?" Doug's discomfort is forgotten, possibly, in the wake of this new information. "On your place? But...they can't..." His brow furrows further, and he rubs at his chin as he works out the logisitics in his head. "Should have pinged the weapon recognition, at least," he mumbles, already reaching for his laptop. "And I was tinkering about with group recognition, but it's New York. Hard to tell what's a /group/ until it's really too late." He flips the laptop open, and taps at the keyboard. "We could alter the weapons recognition to include military and anti-personnel weaponry, I think. Small arms was easy; shouldn't be that hard to upgrade it." He studies the screen for a minute, and his lips twitch. "Yeah. That's do-able. It'll take me a week or so to get it to beta stage." He tips his head as he looks up at Dusk, and lifts his eyebrows. "Actually, speaking of systems,I could use your help, as well. I just...couldn't...didn't know how to.../ask/, y'know?" "Yeah, that was why we were thinking we needed to expand what things it gets pinged on. 'Cuz we were counting on the weapons recognition to deal with cases like a fucking /raid/ but they were -- they'd come for Nox," Dusk explains, a small frown on his face. "They weren't looking for trouble with the rest of us. Didn't bring in guns, just a fuckton of hugeass floodlights. So -- no pings outside of the regular, like, 'unfamiliar faces' -- but most all of us have the /alarm/ kind of alerts turned off for /that/ or we'd be getting buzzed all the time, you know? Every time someone orders a pizza. So I thought maybe uniforms or -- maybe if groups isn't narrow enough, groups that, uh. Move with a purpose? I sure as /fuck/ can't handle /that/ kind of recognition, though, but. It's possible if you work with B -- hir drones can identify zombies pretty accurately based on movement patterns, so ze might have some ideas about recognizing movement." He picks up his spoon, stirring slowly at his soup and finally taking a mouthful. His brows lift, head cocking slightly. "Me? What with?" Doug bobs his head, reaching out to break off a bit of cupcake. "Specific movements are easier to identify," he says. "I might be able to work something out using video footage of other raid-type things." He munches on cupcake as he pokes at the screen, his cheeks pinkening at the mention of B. "I can ask hir," he says, wrinkling his nose. "But I'm not sure that ze'll go for it. Work has been...awkward, at best. Especially since they moved me to another team." He rolls his shoulder, and frowns. "Either way, I'll get it worked out for you, as long as my brain holds up." The question gets a duck of the blonde's head, and the corner of his mouth lifts. "Well, I'm working on building my own computer desk, like yours. I've got a really cool roll-top desk for it, but I fail at building anything larger than a laptop, let alone involving cabinetry." His smile is a small, fleet thing. "I could really use your help with it, if you're up for it. A little quid pro quo, maybe." "Something wrong with your brain?" It's possible the potentially-dying roommate just through with getting his head cut open makes the concern in Dusk's voice is sharper than usual. His expression softens into easier understanding after, though, smile quick and easy. "Oh, hey, sure. Yeah. No. I can totally do that. You know that's good timing, anyway, I've been accumulating parts all over again to rebuild /my/ machine. Fucking cops confiscated every damn thing I owned that even seemed remotely computer-like. Wanted to search our security systems for hints on where Nox might've took of too. Took my goddamn /Nook/, fucking morons. Theoretically I'm getting this shit back some day but -- y'know. Theoretically. Could work on both of ours together." Doug waggles cupcakey fingers at his temple. "I've got a thing. Sometimes my powers go wonky, and I can't understand anything. Or very little." He wrinkles his nose. "It's like...you ever read the Xanth novels? It's like I've been dosed with Reverse Wood or something." He shakes his head, wrinkling his nose at a memory. Perhaps of his last episode of non-comprehension. "Doctor Saavedro's on it, but it's still a thing." He purses his lips before licking his frosted fingers. "That fucking sucks," he says of Dusk's loss of computer things. "They do know the cameras don't see past the end of the block, yeah? Once she passed that mark, they're better off searching traffic and ATM footage." He shakes his head, and his mouth tightens a bit before he leans forward, propping one elbow on the table. "I really appreciate the help," he says earnestly. "I miss doing that kind of shit...." he trails off, reddening a bit. "Not that we did a bunch of it. But it was fun." Dusk's eyes widen at the mention of Xanth. "Oh /shit/. Do you find yourself uncontrollably breaking into bouts of really terrible puns? This could be serious. I hope Doctor Saavedro figures that out quick." For all the joking there's genuine concern in his tone on this last. He scoops another spoonful of soup into his mouth, his wings finally relaxing to droop down behind him, tips trailing against the floor. "Got time this weekend, if you want to swing by. Saturday? It'll be fun." "Me, too," Doug says, breaking the half of his cupcake into two pieces. "Although, no puns, yet. Thankfully." He flashes a quick grin, and pops cupcake in his mouth, chewing twice before he follows it with a swallow of coffee. "Saturday sounds good," he agrees. "I can have some rough lines of what upgrades I can manage for the security by then. Not, y'know, actual /code/ or anything. But the sketches." He swipes his tongue over his upper lip, and crinkles his eyes at the other man as he taps at his keyboard. "It'll be a ton of fun. Here, I'll show you what I've got in mind." And, as long as there's soup and coffee and cupcakes (and Dusk stays interested), that's exactly what he'll do.