ArchivedLogs:Changing Skins

Changing Skins
Dramatis Personae Hive, Melinda, Kate
In Absentia	2013-03-18 Hive finds himself another brain.
Location <NYC> Melinda and Tag's Apartment - Lower East Side
This is an apartment. Doot doot doot. The night is long and interminable. Melinda brings a few refugees home with her and gets them settled into the living room, talking for a while to help work out nerves after the unfortunate raid at the Lofts in the East Village. She sends Tove to use her room, just in case the departing roommates have issues with a physical mutant without warning. Mel having people over at random times is pretty standard practice for her, but ninja turtles may strain their already bad relationship at this point. She is just about to settle down for a nap in one of the kitchen chairs when she looks at the clock and notices that she's opening in an hour. Unable to summon a replacement at that time, she leaves the others a note and heads out -- only to return a couple hours later when relief can take over. Melinda arrives back in her entry way dragging and smelling like coffee. She is quiet as she enters, assuming the others will still be sleeping. She slips out of her shoes at the door and sheds her coat before heading to the kitchen to imbibe a large glass of milk. She then untucks her shirt and releases her hair from its far too tight pony tail before leaning against the counter and considering. Oh, and she also yawns. The others are still sleeping; it's been a long night. But the sound of someone returning rouses one woman from her couch, dressed kind of sloppy-casual in faded sweatpants and an old Yankees t-shirt. Her black hair is buzzed off short, short enough to still see the ropy-thick scars that curl around her skull. She yawns, too, as her head lifts to peer blearily at Melinda. "You smell good," is the first greeting she offers. Quietly, sitting up to plant her feet on the ground. "Or is that the apartment?" "I suppose that depends on what you define as smelling good," Melinda admits, keeping her voice quiet and venturing further from the kitchen. "Sorry to wake you." She starts unbuttoning her shirt, a undertee beneath, one keeps her modest under the white buttondown. She is a bit more casual here than she was at Jackson's apartment. "Do you need anything? Something to eat? I could make some coffee, but I fear that'll wake the whole apartment with beautiful aromas." "Coffee." Kate's voice comes out sort of scratchy-rough, after a night of sleep. She swallows, and as she rubs at her eyes and clears her throat to try again, this sentiment is echoed: << coffee. >> It's not in her voice. It's in a chiming chorus of voices, murmuring in soft echoes of each other. And it's hungry. "S'okay," Kate says again, as though this mental echo had not happened, "I can wait. On the coffee. People didn't get much sleep last night." She speaks quiet, too, out of respect for the others. Melinda laughs a little at the verbal response, but straightens up a little more when she receives the telepathic response. "Oh, are you a telepath?" Melinda did ask if their powers required any special accommodations, but she didn't really pursue specifics that weren't offered readily. "I could get you some food, but until we're ready to wake everyone, it'd probably have to be cold food. Are you - do you have food preferences? Man, I was so tired last night, I can't remember if I covered all this before." "Telepath? No. I'm not -- I don't do anything like that," Kate says, with a slightly discomfited frown that suggests 'anything like that' is not something she is entirely /comfortable/ with. She stretches slowly as she gets up. For a moment she shivers, as her feet hit the floor, but a moment later she is not shivering anymore. Her feet have also grown considerably /hairier/. Hobbitfeet. She pads quietly closer to Melinda, so that she can speak softer still. "I eat pretty much anything. Cold, whatever. Food is /food/." << coffee, >> whispers again, << ohgod eggs? >> It's a /hopeful/ kind of 'eggs'? So hopeful. So hungry. Melinda looks a little confused at the dissonance in the words that Kate says and the telepathic responses nudging at her mind. She leads the way into the kitchen and opens up the fridge. "I guess we could boil some eggs. That's eggs and not really smell heavy process." She glances over and up at Kate. "Are you sure that Nzinga is still asleep? I could go all out with breakfast if she's not." She pulls out a carton of eggs and a jug of juice. The fridge offerings are sparse right now, having been mostly using her kitchen to prep food for the lofts - and to eat over there too. She'll have to go shopping. She rolls her shoulder and stretches it a little. "Not that I really have much to go all out with." She pulls open the freezer and pulls out some frozen fruit she usually uses for smoothies. << eggs, >> comes again, small and so /very/ happy at the sight of eggs. << Nzinga barely sleeps, >> is followed soon with, << sleeping now, though. >> Kate is rubbing at her temple, a little wearily or maybe a little pained as she leans against the counter. "Can I help? I feel like everyone's just been doing so much for us lately." << we'll shop >> is soon followed by a verbal, "I can go shopping for you." Kate looks just faintly surprised afterwards, like maybe this was not what she had originally planned to say. "Maybe I'm going telepathic. You can't catch a mutation, can you?" Mel jokes lightly, blinking at the strange echo. "Okay well, let's see. We can go shopping later. I can show you where things are in the Lower East Side so you can be a little more self sufficient and then next time you can do it yourself. Starting April 1st, this will officially be your home - so you'll have plenty of time to get into the swing of things." She moves over to get a pot and start filling it with water. "Wanna make toast?" She points to the loaf of bread near the toaster. "Hey, I should even have a paycheck by then," Kate says with a small smile. "And hopefully not be quite so much of a mooch. Knowing where things are'd be good, though. Kinda a long way from home." She moves over towards the bread, opening the bag to put the first pair of slices in the toasted. << You can catch ours, >> murmurs to Melinda in the same chorus of voices. << Would you like to. >> It's phrased as a question but in inflection it's more just a thoughtful sort of hum. << Catch our what? >> Melinda may be intensely tired. Sure, she just asked the question, but she does not remember the context just at this moment. "Did you want to go back to your home? I ... I guess I didn't think of that. Here we are, trying to rehome everyone - and.. well, I guess I'm not the primary organizer. So, maybe you've discussed all this already." She puts eggs in the pot and covers them with cold water before putting them on the burner. Then she turns it on. It's a totally difficult process. << Sure? >> << Mutation. >> This time it is less of a whisper, spoken more clearly, though in that same chorus of many voices. Something /presses/, at Melinda's mind; it's not painful but it's not exactly comfortable either, a disorienting push of mental touch that makes those voices grow briefly louder in a jumbled mix of thoughts. It withdraws, soon after. << Need to go home. >> Kate is rubbing at her temple, again. She offers Melinda a smile. It's a little tired. "Oh, I -- I mean, there's not much for me to go back to there," she dismisses this idea with a shake of her head. "People here seem alright. I figured I'd give it a go." "Well, Okay," Melinda smiles at Kate as she leans against the counter, a teensy bit disoriented at the push of telepathy. "Feel free to root through the kitchen and get a feel for the bathroom. Maybe we'll get you a towel or some dishes to call your own." She doesn't have much to do, given the fact that the eggs will take the better part of a half hour to boil properly, so she is still. << Who is this? Where is home? Can I help you some how? I'd like to help. >> "My very own towel." This sounds amused, but not in a sarcastic way. Something kind of wistful in Kate's eyes, briefly distant. "Man. I really am free." Her hand lifts, scuffing along the scar along side her head in a manner that seems absently habitual. "How many people live here? I don't want to -- I mean, you're sure they're all going to be okay with --" She shrugs. Gestures to herself, and to Nzinga still sleeping in the living room. << Home, >> comes with a rather confused jumble of thoughts, at first, but it slowly picks its way apart into images. The twins. Joshua. Jax. Ryan. Horus. Dusk and Ian playing video games. Flicker at the opposite side of an air hockey table (this one comes with the sharpest pang of /home/.) Hive's cluttered-messy apartment with a game of Merchants & Marauders in progress. And then a few faces resolve into sharper longer definition. Jax. Ryan. The twins. << -- they okay? >> << Oh, god. Hive? >> Melinda loses track of what Kate is saying for a little while. << Everyone is ... okay, guess. The Twins spent the night at social services, but I've been assured they will get transferred to the school soon. Ryan - I don't know. He's in the papers as everything but a mutant, but rock stars survive this stuff. Jax? Micah was with him. Micah will take good care of him. >> She looks over at Kate and remembers to speak out loud. "Seth and Carlos are moving out. They've been polite but aloof, ever since Tag brought home a physical mutant for a night. I think they have the good sense to be polite the rest of the time they are here - and grateful I'm not charging them another month's rent for bailing. You guys should be fine." She glances toward the bedroom door closest to her door. "and Tag is a mutant and a sweetheart, so don't worry too much about him." For a moment from Hive there are no words, just a wash of feeling, mingled worry and relief. "You know I used to be the same," Kate admits. "Like the people who didn't /look/ like us, it sort of bothered me. It was hard to think of them like --" She frowns at the toaster, popping the toast out and then -- juggling it from hand to hand, having forgotten to get a /plate/ to put it on. She rests both slices atop the toaster, looking a little sheepish for this oversight. Or maybe for her admission. "Weird, but I guess there's /some/ things I have to thank these assholes for. Hard to go through that shit with someone and not realize they're just as human as I am." Only now does Hive speak back up, quieter once more. << OK. OK. They'll need help. >> And then: << Sorry. Just -- we -- had to know. >> << Don't be sorry, Hive. It's okay. I'm here to help. Any time. How are you? are you okay? >> Melinda reaches a hand up to rub at her eyes sleepily as she waits for the water to boil. When it does, she sets a timer for 20 minutes. "I guess it's good that you came out of adversity a more understanding person," there's a 'but' at the end of her statement, but it stays unspoken. << No one should have to go through that, >> she thinks, possibly forgetting Hive is listening. << No one should, >> Hive agrees, and it's a little tired, a little wry. << We're -- >> Silence. And then snatches of images; a cell, not quite so stark-bare terrible as the Promethean cells but bland-boring holding space with a number of other people. A desk, a lot of paperwork, a harried-looking man in a suit with a lot of questions. << Long night. >> Kate just shrugs. She starts poking through the cabinets in search of plates, snagging a pair when she finds the appropriate one. She transfers the toast to a plate, putting another pair of slices in the toaster afterwards. "I don't know if I'm that much more understanding," she says to Melinda with a quick smile. "I'm still kind of an impatient dick. Just maybe less a bigoted one. Toast?" "There is butter and jelly in the fridge." Melinda points out quietly. "You take the first bit. I had some food at the cafe. Where are you working?" There's a bit of a tinny tiredness to her tone now, the counter definitely holding her up instead of being there for her lounge purposes. << I haven't slept yet. There's a giant turtle in my bed. >> She imagines this affectionately, even if she hasn't seen it for herself yet. << Can you get out of this? I mean - legally? Or are you getting deported for a number of years? >> Melinda's sad. She doesn't want Hive to be gone. She likes having him around a lot. It's apparently from her thoughts and feelings that Hive is a valued friend. "Eh, it's just some shitty data entry thing, but it'll pay till I find something better. Or just -- pay." Kate shrugs again. Maybe there won't be anything better! But she doesn't seem particularly bothered by the thought. Maybe /everything/ is better than what she just came from. "You look tired," she comments with a frown. "You should sleep." << No idea, >> Hive says, sounding a little tired, himself. << Need a lawyer. Need -- something. Fuck. My visa ran out /while/ they were -- holding me, I never got it worked back out. I'll -- stay in touch. >> Though he sounds a little uncertain about this. Something presses at Melinda's mind, again, a cautious-questioning touch. << Can I stay? >> This comes with a backdrop of mental clarification. Stay. Ride along. Take /over/. He wants to get back home. Talk to the others. Needs a vehicle to do it through. Preferably not one he has to force. His other Hivees did not sign up for messenger duty. << Sure, Hive. Whatever you need. Just - you know, work schedule - >> Melinda brings up a few very clear thoughts about the schedule and what is expected if her at work for the next week, << needs to be respected and kept to. >> She smiles at Kate. "Can't quite yet. There's a turtle in my bed and too much espresso in my system. Maybe in an hour." She is still keeping an eye on the eggs too. It is a pain in the ass to boil up about a dozen eggs. << Won't interfere with your life, >> Hive promises. << Just want to be able to -- know. >> What's going on with his friends. What's going on with his life while he's missing it. The permission comes with a deeper push of contact. It's disorienting, again, and for a moment there's a soft murmur, a ripple of thoughts and feelings and voices flooding Melinda's head. It quiets down. Hive's presence quiets down, save a soft odd /feel/ like being watched. << Thank you, >> ripples upward, and this time it's just one voice, only Hive's; although it sounds not like he is speaking to her from outside but just like she is thinking it. "I'm done with your couch," Kate offers Melinda her own couch magnanimously! "But I can't help with the espresso." She heads to the fridge for butter and jelly. And applies these things liberally to her toast. "I dunno if I said thank you, last night was kind of fucked up. But thank you." Melinda is very distracted for a minute or two, eyes held close as she feels her stomach roil at the mental discomfort. Lovely. She inhales deeply and reconsiders Kate's offer. "Yeah, I think I might lie down after all." << Hope that's not ripping you off. Just... /damn/ brains are weird and I probably really need sleep. >> Try definitely need sleep. "And you're welcome - and I was going to offer the rooms up for grabs before last night. It just ... well, happened. Just hope you like your new roommates." She eyes the timer. "Eggs are almost done. You can run the whole pot under the old tap to cool them - if you want to speed things up a bit." "Hope the new roommates like me." Kate sounds a little wry here. But she nods, gesturing towards the couch like she has some say over inviting Mel to it. "You look like you need sleep. Thanks for the eggs." << sleep, >> Hive murmurs in soft agreement. << Thank you. >> Just thank you. He's disappearing off to the background, now, taking his chorus of mental voices with him so that Melinda can /rest/.