ArchivedLogs:Checking In

Checking In
Dude, you're like forty.
Dramatis Personae Toru, Pietro Maximoff	2013-07-16 Toru and Pietro shoot the shit.
Location <BOM> Compound Grounds - Ascension Island
In some places reaching the main grounds of this island takes a precarious scramble up from the rocky-craggy short, in some places just a short hike away from the beach. Once an old homestead, most of the 28 acres of property are taken up with forest, a dark thick sprawl of greenery through which a small stream winds crookedly. Under its shady canopy, myriad buildings are tucked away, an eclectic mix of sheds and tiny sturdy log cabins that give the area a rustic feel. Centrally, a wide clearing has been cut out of the trees. A large sweep of lawn has had a metal swingset -- two swings to either side of a small trapeze bar -- set up to one side. The lawn leads up to a cabin bigger than the others, a squat one-story building. Long and low, its wide front porch and cheerfully-painted yellow and pink shutters lend the building a welcoming air. Toru is not a usual fixture on Ascension Island so his presence, while not unwelcome, is nonetheless unusual. For whatever reason, though, he's decided to drop by this afternoon. It's a bit later in the day, though not so late that the light has died yet, and he has pulled himself up to the top of one of the swings, his legs hooked over the bar, and is hanging upside-down, smoking something; there is the telltale sound of marijuana in the air around him. On the ground near the swing there sits a small pile of items; a skateboard, a blue messenger bag, and a white bag, the type one would generally find food in. Pietro was wandering around the compound- making a quick dash of it as he zipped from beach to swingset in just a gesture. The gentle breeze accompanies him before he arrived. He leans now beside the swingset, his sudden appearance not unusual in it's own right. "I thought I smelled a skunk." Pietro muses to Toru as he leans against the metal of the swingset. His arms are crossed and he looks up sidelong at the other mutant. Squinting just a little bit, Toru slowly removes the joint from his lips and gives Pietro a long smirk. "This is primo shit, man, don't hate." Despite the fact that, being upside-down, his hair is out of sorts anyway, he runs his free hand through it anyway before letting his arms drop. "What's been goin' on around here? I been a little more scarce than I meant to be." "Not shit," Pietro returns with idle indifference to the weed smoke. An unconscience gestures displaces some of the smoke as it swirled in his direction. "I feel like I've been sitting still since I got back," An annoyed expression slinks onto his features; a sneer finding comfort where it belonged beneath one curled nostril. "We need something big, something to let the city know we are serious. This covert ops bullshit bored me to death." Pietro is still leaning where he arrived beside the swingset. "Well, at least I ain't missin' anything." Returning the joint to his mouth, Toru lets out a grunt as he reaches up to grip the bar he's on, letting his legs drop and then letting go to land on the ground... staggering a bit, then landing flat on his ass. With a short laugh, he grins a little, shaking his head a few times. "Well, you're in for an even longer wait, bro. Mostly it's just been like... goin' around and doin' a sorta night watch thing, keep mutants from gettin' roughed up and shit, y'know? We do big stuff too much and we're gonna get made pretty easy, y'know." "I know that, I understand how the world works. We can't win a war without an army though." Pietro sucks at his teeth in an annoyed fashion. The sound emits from as he stood back up and uncrossed his arms. "We need recruits; people won't come to us if we sneak around the night offering them big dreams and piles of bullshit." He shook his head and sighed, as if everyone he spoke to WASN'T LISTENING well enough to the shit he knew as fact. "A stand guy, we need a stand to draw the lost souls like a beacon." Big dreams n rose colored glasses. "Well, you never know how dumb a guy is," Toru notes, just a touch defensively. Seeing as how he's already sitting anyway, he crosses his legs and takes a hit off his joint, then licks his fingertips and puts out the ember. The messenger bag is pulled open and he finds a pocket to tuck what's left of the joint into it, not even offering to share. What a jerk. "And how're we supposed to do that, huh?" Smirking lazily, he leans back a little, resting elbows on the ground behind himself so that he can look up at Pietro. "Go down to Kinko's, print up some fliers? Or like... start a city beautification thing? I'm sure there's all sortsa possibilities." "Bah." Is clipped to Toru as Pietro waves a hand in his direction. "You think small, this is Manhatten. We have the world's largest stewpot primed for propaganda." He speaks quickly, often making sense after the fact... "Why fuck with Kinko's when we can kidnapp a politican or I dunno? Destroy every bridge and tunnel onto that god forsaken island?" Pietro cut across to where Toru was sitting, still out of arm's reach. "Think big bro, that's New York City we can make the whole world look this way at the same time. We just need resources." Pietro shrugged and then wandered off to the edge of the yard and back. Restless style. Rubbing the back of his head, Toru actually does look a little more thoughtful. "Okay, that don't sound that bad." He pushes himself up to his feet, taking a minute to brush himself off, and strolls on back over to the swings, sitting down upright in one and idly swinging back and forth, thoughtfully. "I mean I'unno how effective it'll be. Part of our problem is it is kinda /hard/ to get ahold of people in the group, y'know? It took me like..." Counting on his hands. "...Like three or four months to even get ahold of a guy in the Brotherhood and then he had to lay low before he could get me in, and I didn't run into boss lady until after that coffee shop got burnt up. So like what, a month ago?" He pauses, frowning a little. "...Well anyway my point is if it was easier to find us we might have more mans." "And that's exactly why I'm back..." Pietro stated from halfway across the yard with both his arms sprawled wide at his sides in a ta-da gesture. Then pointing to Toru. "I will find them and I don't care who knows I'm looking. We need a poster child and why not use someone untouchable?" Pompous? Uh, yea. Confident? Oh, boy. He comes back to the swingset as well, leaning there to preach to his audience. The younger mutant gets his full attention for now. "I think I need a PSA. Let the lost souls know they have someone fighting for them." "Okay first off, dude, you are seriously starting to freak me out with that speed shit," Toru notes, holding a hand up. "Secondly... yeah, sure, I guess you're pretty enough to be the face of th emovement if ya don't mind havin' yer face out there like that." He's snickering a little bit as he says this, but tries very hard to keep that under control. Really. He even holds a hand up to his mouth to cough into it a few times, eventually succeeding in calming himself down. "Okay okay okay. So uh. Like, we kidnap someone, sure, but if it's anyone high enough up that people're gonna care they're gonna have fuckin' helicopters and shit lookin' for us. And if it's someone low enough that people ain't gonna care then... people ain't gonna care. You talked to the boss about this shit yet?" "No, pfft." He exhaled sharply with a headshake. "I'm not begging bitches for permission to do what Magneto knew needed to be done." He shakes his head as if this was all just too much to deal with. "Who do you think trained me for this mission?" Pietro sighs and goes to take a seat on the other swing. "If my father was here this would be handled differently." He mutters, semi-defeated from the jump and go attitude of a few moments ago... "I bet 'bosslady' is gonna tell me to sit still and be quiet. She's sneakier than a snake." He swings slowl, lazily drifting to and fro as the wind is effectively sucked from his sails with the mention of Regan's power. "If yer /dad/ was here? Seriously? Dude you're like forty, I think it's time to cut the coattails, man." Toru lets out a little incredulous laugh, shaking his head a few times. "I mean I don't give a crap what you do either way, I ain't gonna tattle or nothin', I just figure like... last thing we should be doin' is incest fightin', y'know?" He taps his hands together to indicate. Fighting. "And I dunno I mean everyone's got their own style, you like the whole like, burst in and do shit thing, Boss likes the like... sneaky, smooth approach. Y'gotta admit it worked out pretty good last week," he notes. "Yea, that was awesome. We got one whole recruit out of that and still hit the news networks." He rolls his strange silver eyes below dark knitted brows. Pietro is leaning on the chain of his swing in a slightly defeated gesture. "Don't get me wrong, I'm gonna talk to her about it but I just don't see it going the way I want. ... forty?!" He counters, turning with a sudden creaking of the swing chains in protest of the motion. "Seriously I'm not even thirty you little shit." Pietro sounds amused and annoyed but not overtly angry. Toru snickers, sticking his tongue out briefly, and shrugs. "Whatever, you're older'n me. You're pretty spry for your age, y'know." He's obviously joking, there. And in an abrupt movement he pushes himself back up to his feet again, strolling over to gether his bags. "And hey, a new recruit's a new recruit, you can't go complainin' we don't got enough people then get bitchy when we don't get /enough/, I don't think." Though he does look thoughtful on that point, like maybe he's not /sure/. "Anyway if shit's not goin' down I'm gonna head back to the city. Your thing ain't a bad idea, but seein' as how she's the one what got me in.." Shrug. "I'm kinda more inclined to go with what the Lady says." Digging through the white bag, he pulls out a long, paper-wrapped package. "You want a meatball sub? They gave me the wrong thing." "Fuck yea," Pietro says as he holds out his hands to catch the wrapped sub. "Later days, kid." He waits til the kid is gone, sitting there is a brooding thoughtful silence. Once he is alone the sub is inhaled in about thirty five seconds. The paper balled up and tossed over his shoulder.