ArchivedLogs:Do They Have Booze Here?

Do They Have Booze Here?
Dramatis Personae Anette, Daken
In Absentia	2015-03-12 Still a better love story than Twilight...
Location <BOM> Common Room - Main Lodge - Ascension Island
The common room's rustic-lodge feel has been somewhat mitigated by the modern amenities inside its sturdy wooden walls. It has comfortable couches, several chairs, a refrigerator (stocked with snacks and drinks!), a pool table, a pinball machine (METALLICA!), an assortment of books, a television -- with several game systems! -- and a splendid view out the windows (when their lacy yellow curtains are drawn open) for the rest of the island. The pale wood floors have been covered in places -- by a pair of soft thick blue rugs, by a large squishy pair of beanbags that stand in front of the stone fireplace. There's also a board up on the wall, half corkboard, half whiteboard, with a variety of community notes (and occasional insults) to other Brotherhood members. Large doors on the right-hand side lead off to the kitchen and dining room. In the back of the room, the council room's heavy oak door bears solid locks that are almost never actually barred. A short hall adjacent to the council room's door leads to a trio of multi-stalled bathrooms; these might once have been marked with the typical man-woman-handicapped signs, but someone has given them new plaques on the door; a stick figure with horns and a long tail, one with wings. One -- the large single-user toilet -- has instead been given a helmet and a cape. It's nearing night time as Daken wanders back in from the kitchen, dirt covering the knees of a pair of worn jeans and scruffy combat boots. His shirt is a thin looking purple t-shirt. In one of his hands is a shallow container of pork, he eventually settles onto one of the couches. Passed out on another couch, Anette is sprawled out, her jacket thrown over the back of it, giving her wings the chance to spread out and drape across like a very feathery blanket. As Daken sits down, she stirs slightly and looks up with sleep-filled eyes. "Ugh...wassatime?" she manages to mumble while she waits for her mind to catch up with reality. "Hell if I know. Almost dark." Daken replies, tugging out a Motorola smartphone from his pocket. "Almost seven-thirty." His attention finally drifts towards Anette, gaze moving over her appraisingly. "Name's Daken, by the way. Haven't seen you about." Anette yawns as she sits up, blinking the last of her sleep out of her eyes before she glances over towards Daken. "Anette. Pleasure," she mumbles, stretching her arms above her head. "I don't hang around here that often. Just felt like getting out of my apartment for a bit." "Pleasure indeed." Daken flashes an easy grin, settling in and tossing a piece of pork into his mouth. "Been meaning to get a place of my own outside of here. Haven't been in New York for a while, hear the place I used to rent from doesn't care for mutants." Anette can't help but snort softly at Daken's comment. "Nothing cares for mutants around here. I've given up on trying to keep track of where it's safe and where isn't so I just assume everyone hates me and I just wear coats and jackets year round. Which is just fantastic when it's ninety degrees outside." "Fuck 'em." Daken grunts. "Those wings are too pretty to hide. They give you shit, the can get cut." He brings his fest up, and there's a SNK as a pair of ebony claws extend from between his knuckles, though they disappear a moment after. "Won't kill them, just rough them up a bit." "Oh, that's impressive," Anette says, grinning as Daken reveals his claws. "Oh, I would kill for claws. Though if those dreams really do mean anything like people say, I might not have to." She momentarily glances down at her hands, as if expecting them to change in front of her right now. "And thank you, I feel the same though I've had enough run-ins with the law and, being unregistered, I'd like to avoid more." "I don't plan on registering, and I'll be around for a long while." Daken looks down at his own hands. "Have another one," he taps the inside of his arm, "right in there." His gaze shifts over towards Anette. "But I'm also a student of the tiger style, so I don't need claws to rip a throat out. Speaking of which, you spar often?" Another grin is flashed, nodding towards the exit that leads down to the training area. "Not in a ring. Not as often as I want to and should anyway," Anette says with a grin. "I really should fix that." "Need a sparring partner. So, feel free to look me up whenever you want to." Daken offers. "Even make house calls, though probably not for fighting. Be a bit of a pain to explain to your neighbors. Or the police when they show up." "Right...the less the police know about me and where I live, the better," Anette chuckles. "Still, I'll have to take you up on that offer. I could definitely use some more practice." "Sparring, or the house calls?" Daken teases lightly, grinning lightly. "But yeah, can come out here for the sparring, or one of the safe houses." Anette laughs at the question. "Sparring for now. Ask me about the house calls again after a few drinks," she says. "I definitely need to get out more. I've been cooped up all winter." "Drinking with me? Adventurous." Daken replies with a wink. "Healing factor, don't get drunk quite as easily. Or at all, unless I really go on a binge. But I'll still take you out for drinks sometimes, least I can do for you breaking my nose a few times." Anette raises a brow. "Healing factor? Well that's a convenient power. So between claws and healing, you're pretty much indestructible. Forget going out drinking with pretty mutant girls, how haven't you taken over the world yet?" "I like you." Daken decides. "When I mentioned killing my way to the top in Las Angeles, Ion and Dusk suggested therapy." He pushes to his feet, "One moment." Then he's heading back into the kitchen, when he returns it's without the pork, and he takes a seat on the arm of the couch Anette is seated on. "So, any good bars near your apartment?" "Yeah, that sounds about right," Anette says, grinning. She waits quietly for Daken to return, smirking slightly as he sits down beside her. "Oh, there's a couple. It's mostly bagel and coffee around me but there's a few decent places to get shitfaced." "That's good. Bagels and coffee are good to hit up after you stagger out of a dive." Daken says, winking towards Anette. "Then a good apartment to crash at. In my professional opinion, sturdy beds are good from drunken crashing." Anette laughs quietly. "Well...we could certainly test out the sturdiness of the bed. I don't exactly have a steady income so I take what I can get. Just don't be surprised if the bed comes crashing down. Though coffee and bagels after a night of drunken debauchery sounds extremely overdue." "Well, I have a bit of cash left in the bank. If I don't find a job here, I'll do a wet work job or two, then find a place that doesn't check your registration status to rent." Daken says, shifting to sit down on the couch properly. "And depending, I may replace your bed. Don't want it broken." Anette nods along to Draken's plan, grinning as he sits beside her on the couch. "Well, I wish you luck with that plan. I rented my apartment before this whole registration business so I don't know how easy it is to find a mutant friendly apartment. Especially since the last one blew up." "Yeah, might look at that place near the safe house on the Lower East Side." Daken says, arm draping over the back of the couch. "Might even apply at that clinic that popped up down there, as often as they get attacked, they can use all the help they can get. And even if they fill me full of bullets, there is a very good chance I'm getting back up. One of the only things I got from Wolverine that I'm thankful for. The claws and senses aren't wasted though." His nostrils flare before he flashes another grin. "Speaking of which, did I tell you that you smell quite nice? Creepy as it may sound." "That's...not so far from me, actually. At least, I don't think. I'm pretty near the clinic. It's a good place," Anette says before suddenly jerking her head towards Daken and glancing him over. "Wolverine, -that- Wolverine? Are you...? No way. Well damn." She seems to be mildly shocked at Daken's connections but mostly impressed. "Oh, and yeah, a little creepy but still flattering so thanks I think?" "His son? Unfortunately." Daken says with a shake of his head. "A little creepy, but true enough." He reaches up to brush fingers through what little hair he has. "Anyway, let's see about getting drunk sometime soon. Shit.. They might have something to drink in the kitchen." "Hey, you have to admit he's good. Haven't personally met him but I've heard stories and even I'd hate to go up against him," Anette says. "They probably have something here but do they have anything -good-?" "If I ever meet him? It'll be the first thing I do. Either him or me." Daken says, expression souring for a moment, before looking towards the kitchen. "I don't know. I know there's /something/ good here. But I doubt I'll be getting a taste of it tonight." "Well, if you need aerial support, you know who to call. Though I don't know what help I can provide in immortal vs. immortal." Anette rises and follows Daken towards the kitchen. "Not going to join in the fun?" "Cut the head off, and the body will die." Daken intones, stopping to look back towards Anette. "I have no idea if you're going to join in the fun. Though it'd be mighty interesting." There's that grin of his once more, before he continues out.