ArchivedLogs:Ducks And Cigarettes

Ducks And Cigarettes
Dramatis Personae Charlie Torres, Daken	1 April 2015 '
Location <BOM> Front Porch - Main Lodge - Ascension Island
The front porch of the lodge unfurls its way across the entire front length of the building. Stained in a dark reddish finish, it seems to have been refurbished somewhat recently, the sturdy wood rather less weather-beaten than many of the buildings on the island. A half-height railing edges most of the porch, with a wide gated staircase centrally leading to the heavy front door, and ungated ramps at either side end. Protected from all but the most driving of rains by a sloped roof, the porch has been furnished with an assortment of furniture. Wicker rocking chairs, a pair of small square aluminum tables, a hammock at the far right end, a bench swing at the left. Despite the solid locks on the doors and windows, the front door holds a cheerfully flower-edged mat reading WELCOME. It isn't /warm/ by any reasonable standards, but it's still /warmer/ than most of what March had to offer. And clear. And sunny, though said sun is rolling heavily toward the horizon with pink-orange-gold promises to plunk right over the edge into darkness soon enough. The front porch is a little a little bit smokey, a little bit creaky from the rocking of a wicker chair. In said chair is one hare-girl dressed in a grey plaid button-down shirt worn tied off instead of buttoned over a sky blue shirt so faded that its cloud pattern nearly disappears on it. The dirt smeared across a decent amount of the shirts is nothing compared to the impressive stains across the knees of her loose-fitting camping pants and the soil clinging to her oversized workboots. The face peeking out from beneath a brimmed hat seems to be benefitting from a recent washing, as do the furry hands holding a bottle of hard cider in one and the source of the cigarette smoke in the other. All in all, it's the picture of well-earned repose. Daken isn't there one moment, but in a flash of movement he's climbed up and sat upon the porch railing. He's dressed in black slacks and a purple dress shirt that speak of recent trips to the city. A grin turns up the corners of his mouth as he spots Charlie. "{Hey there.}" he calls over, holding up a finger before speaking. "Think we should talk, I think we got off on a bad rabbit's foot. I think we should take it back a hare, and turn over a new leaf." The grin on his features blossoms into a full blown smile. "Let's hop right into what I want to say. You think I'm a psycho, and that's completely fine. But an awful work dynamic if you ask me." Charlie's eyes close for a moment, fingers bringing the cigarette to her lips for a long drag, smoke curling back out soon after. She almost looks like she is going to speak, then decides she needs an equally long swallow from her bottle first. "{No rest for the weary, like they say.}" Her eyelids finally pull open slowly, chin tipping up slightly to better regard the newcomer from her half-reclined position. "You turning in your killer life for some stand-up comedy, then? Tell me you don't spend time practicing on that." "Be pointless to practice it. Hate crowds." Daken admits, shoulders rising and falling. "And I'm not kill everyone all the time. A lot of my comments may be about it.. But I'm smarter than that. Like I know bombing Oscorp would have lead back to us, and that would make things worse. A cyber attack would be better, if executed properly. But, it's best to find out who allows it and why. I'd point fingers at the mayor, personally." "Well, you know what they say about ducks. Gives an impression, waddling around quacking all the damn time. Pretty much got a duck or a case for the nice young men in the clean white coats, you know?" Charlie sits up just a little straighter in the chair, since conversation is happening now. "Gives an even stronger impression, quack around strangers." Her head shakes slowly as she puffs at the cigarette. "Whatever plan you think you plan, best to run it up the flagpole and see who salutes around here, yeah? Make sure there's actual /planning/ involved. With the right people." "My plan is just to keep my eyes and ears open right now. Best not to strike until we know exactly what we're up against." Daken hops off the rail and moves over to take a seat in one of the chairs himself, black dress shoe coming into display as he crosses his legs. "Besides, I have bigger fish to fry. Need to pay Fisk a visit. Hopefully he'll entertain the thought of company without me having to incapacitate his goons. Always felt bad about it. Almost like smothering a baby, really." “Think there are people working on this already, too. You might want to see what's up here, first. There's a reason it's a brotherhood and not a one man show.” Charlie holds her smoke out for a second to tap off some of the ash. “I got no idea who a Fisk is. Maybe you call or write first? People send...goons...after you then, might could be a commentary on how much they enjoy your company.” "He basically has his hand in all the cookie jars. Keeps his nose at least looking clean so the police never get involved. But he basically rules New York. There's a chance you've been in a store already owned by him, or passed by another business that is a front for more of his enterprise." Daken purses his lips slightly and gives a grunt. "He's basically sitting where I should be. But I shut my front down before I moved. Just wasn't as much money to be made anymore. Now I'm sitting on a wealth of connections. Drugs, weapons, stolen or rare objects. And I can't do anything without getting into bed with him. Metaphorically, he isn't my type." "Where exactly is that? Some kinda mob boss throne?" Charlie's brows go cock-eyed, one lifting, the other scrunching down. "Look, I got no idea of your intentions, nor do I care to visit 'em. Excepting where your business might get around to fucking around with me and mine. So long as you can at least pretend at some discretion and priorities, I don't care. You /are/ sitting on a wealth of connections. I just don't think you're really aware of them." "I'm not referring to any contacts I might have through the family here." Daken brings an elbow up to block a tired sounding yawn from view. "Anywho, you keeping up on sparring?" It's his turn to arch an eyebrow as his attention drifts over towards Charlie. "Best to always be prepared. Sometimes we meet in the middle of a misty meadow to have orchestrated battles with the X-men. You know, they ruin our schemes, we get away without any fatalities, then do it again the next week." "Yeah, that...is abundantly clear." The hare-girl swaps out cigarette for bottle again, another swig of the cider rolling over her tongue. "Now and then. There's the whole training room-thing here. Hear about another more open thing out in the city, too, but haven't looked in on it yet." Charlie just looks at Daken over her bottle. "You watch way too many movies, man." Daken shrugs a bit before digging into his pocket and pulling out a small vaporizer. There's a brief hit followed by clouds of a coffee smelling vapor. "But seriously, will need it eventually. Even more so if we don't manage to stop the genocide." He seems to remember something and holds the vaporizer up, "You should look into one of these. Cheaper than ten dollars a pack. Cheapest I've seen cigarettes was three or so dollars after tax on a pack of pyramids in Georgia." "Shit. If I wanted to inhale coffee I'd go sit around Evolve all day. S'a damn reason they put tobacco in the ceremonial pipes. Good enough for that, sure's good enough for me, too." Charlie gives a shrug, returning the cigarette to her lips at the reminder. "Just looking to spend less, can always go RYO. Better taste, slower burn anyhow. Little more effort to get hands on is all." The little snort that she gives comes along with another curl of exhaled smoke. "Always need it, no eventually about it. Go walking around with a face like mine, anyhow." "Not about the nicotine for me. Doesn't do anything for me, literally. Can't get high, drunk, or even buzzed without consuming inhuman amounts because of my healing factor." Daken slips the vaporizer away before crossing his arms back over his chest. "But they have plenty of other flavors. Including tobacco." "Sucks to be you, then," Charlie returns with a hint of a smirk. And another swallow of cider, again as if reminded of it by the conversation. "I like the actual leaf. What can I say? Guess I'm just an old-fashioned girl that way." She bats the rather impressively thick-long lashes on her wide doe eyes, though another coarse chuff of amusement ruins the posing pretty thoroughly. One last swallow finishes off the bottle, which she chucks into a conveniently placed bin after hauling herself out of her chair. “I should go grab a shower, get some of this dirt off me. Have a good night.”