ArchivedLogs:First Timer

First Timer
Dramatis Personae Josiah, Kay, Rasputin, Shane	2014-04-04 not such a great fightyclub introduction for josiah oops (part of perfectustp.)
Location <NYC> BoM Safehouse - Lower East Side
Tucked away off a little-used side street in the Lower East Side, sandwiched between a youth drop-in center and a taqueria, this narrow three-story townhouse has very little to catch the eye. Boarded-up windows, a door peeling its paint, shabby grubby brickface; from the outside it does not look like much. Inside someone has gone to great lengths to renovate the building into something more habitable. It isn't glamorous but it is comfortable, old furniture dragged in, the place generally swept clean. The first floor holds a large living room, a smaller dining room, a spacious kitchen, a half-bathroom. There are three bedrooms and a full bathroom on the second floor; the attic is just a large empty space crammed full of boxes with a window out to the large flat roof. The basement, much like the attic, consists of a lot of empty space. A bare concrete floor, no windows, occasional poles running up to the ceiling. A tiny half-bathroom down here, too. Not a whole lot else. Friday night in the city is drear and temperamental; a thin wet layer of precipitation is more soupy mist than solid rain, damp and chill in clung halos against the streetlights. The weather does nothing to discourage the Fight Club goers, familiar faces and a few new milling around upstairs, most traveling down. There's a restless agitation in many of the senior faces, cloying in the atmosphere. Smiles more strained, for the new-comers. Less laughter. More focused eyes scanning the windows, the door. The angry motor of a motorcycle rips through the New York horn beeps and car revvings, traveling /past/ the Safehouse, and on, until silence falls again. And then shortly - the door is shoved aside and Kay is striding inside, tall and rangy as a coyote, with the arm he'd DONE the door-shoving with still left straight out at his side. His stringy hair is wet and clung about his face, the moisture steaming off his body, from his black clothes and denim jacket like a vapor trail, a solid tangible /dryheat/ bathing those that he passes by, pausing a moment to lean his head down near another Brother, murmuring quickly while scanning the room. It isn't long after Kay's arrival that the door is pushed open again, admitting one tiny blue sharkboy into the room. Shane has a backpack slung over a shoulder and is casually dressed -- /odd/ for him in /jeans/ and a Xavier's sweatshirt and a plain black tee all utterly unlike his usual slacks-vest-dress shirt polished attire. There's a bright energy to his step that falls into more subdued slow pace as he enters the room and drinks /in/ the agitation. He doesn't exactly have hackles -- or even /any/ hair at all -- but he manages to give off a sense of them raising /anyway/, claws lengthening just a little bit, gills shifting restlessly alongside his neck as his black eyes widen to somewhat eerie disproportionate-largeness in his narrow face. His nostrils flare, and he sneaks over alongside Kay with a very small /bonk/ of head up against the tall man's side. "-- who died." In other circumstances it might be a joke, but he sounds fairly dead-serious. Josiah is one of the new faces, and not one that was made to blend in this crowd. He's dressed in boots and denim, every item less functional than fashionable. But for all his lack of meshing with the crowd, the man wears a look of eagerness on his face. Bright eyes, a flush to his cheeks, and a gaze that darts around the room, searching. As others mingle, he moves, wending a slow path around the edges of the room as if looking for something in particular tonight. There's a sort of bell type of sound at the door, but it's not like a doorbell or anything. Moments later, the door's being opened by someone inside, a gray bird flying in /straight at/ Kay, attempting to land on his shoulder. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck/fuck/ I..I've been looking everywhere all day and I couldn't /fucking find them/.". Rasputin's never been known for cursing (most probably haven't heard hir say something worse that damn), but right now ze is flinging them out. "This is all my fault I should have stayed there but because of me Ion and Dusk are gone and probably as good as dead.". Hir voice is coming out rapidly anxious and /very angry/. Without looking away from his conversation, Kay's arm opens from his side by some ambient awareness and hooks /firm/ around Shane, drawing him in in simian fashion, other hand crossing over to rough-scrub the... equally rough scrub that is Shane's bristly-stiff hair. "-and I want someone else upstairs watching out the window. Cally's in, we're gonna need her eyes." The young man he's speaking to nods once, rapidly, and then drops to tall fours to gallup up towards the packed attic, where a temporary path has been cleared to the window. "We had an abduction," Kay does not gild these lilies - they're calm, almost flippant, with his head rocking to the side to make room for Rasputin at his shoulder. He reaches up to stroke a back knuckle down the avian chest feathers, "Jerk off in your own time, dude. Too many of us have been thought dead before. Until you show me a body, I'm not digging any holes. We wouldn't even know what'd happened if you hadn't run." Absurdly, he's even /grinning/ now, hard and bright-eyed; it gives him every reason to shiny-eye right back at Josiah. And out of all the tension in the room, he jerks a chin at the younger man and asks with complete sincere excitement, "First time?" And THRUSTS out a warm, warm palm, "Kay." Shane leans into the hook of Kay's lanky arm, thin shoulder propped up against the older man's side. His gills flutter faster when Rasputin enters, lips pulling back to bare sharp teeth in a slow grimace. "Wait chill what --" Until /names/ sink in, and against Kay's side he tenses hard and sudden. "/Dusk/? Abduction? Dusk /and/ Ion, who the fuck could've /abducted/ them both they are -- /I've/ fought Dusk that's not /easy/." His claws have shot out longer, now, webbed hands abruptly tipped in black /daggers/ where before they just had pinpricks. His nostrils flare, sniff-sniff-sniff, and it's /scent/ he zeroes in on before sight, looking up at Josiah a puzzled moment later with a slow: "We've met." Though judging by the uncertain look on his face he can't quite place /where/. Among all the noise and chatter in the upper-level room, the name Dusk rings out above it all. Perhaps that's because it's familiar to Josiah. Or maybe it's because the name is spoken from the beak of a noisy bird. Either way, the man catches it, and inches toward its source. It isn't but a moment later that he faces the fight club trio. His hand joins Kay's in greeting. "Yes, it is. Nice to meet you, I'm Josiah." Lowering his gaze, he eyes Shane and pauses a moment, before releasing Kay's hand and saying, "So we have. Good to see in a different setting." Without taking that any further, he offers a smile and he adds, "I'm sorry but I heard you all talking about Dusk. I'm actually hoping to see him tonight." "Yeah I know I /did/ stop Dusk from getting like killed with a bird though.". Rasputin takes the scratches, as ze turns to Josiah, a small bob of the head but no explanation of why ze is talking, before turning to Shane. "Dudes were /mutants/. One chick had tentacles in these..vases? Other chick was like a birdperson, pointed a gun at Dusk. Came out of nowhere just down the block and ambushed us. Just, bam. Somehow took them out, like they were prepared or shit.". Rasputin sighs, before turning back to Josiah. "Apologies, you won't be seeing him tonight I don't think. /Hopefully/ he'll be here next week, if I have anything to say about it." "Yeaaaah, you're gonna have to wait on that," Kay cuts a short breath through his nose; his grip on Josiah's hand is hard and callous. It doesn't seek to intentionally crush his knuckles, but there's a taut serpentine muscle strung between the bones, and his skin is /heated/. Not burning to the skin, but radiant yet. "Yeah," murmured lower, the same prepared dog-tension and hearthfire warmth spans down his flank as well, where he's tucked Shane in. He's looking down at the sharkish twin, mouth drawn hard, "It's no easy fucking thing to take Ion down, either." Then slowly, glances at Josiah again. The new face. And says more thoughtfully, "...They'd done their homework." He turns his head and bumps his nose against Rasputin's wing, "Dude. Ease up. This kid just got here, huh?" He jerks up his chin, "Welcome t'fight club, Josey. What's your thing?" You know. Your MUTANT thing. "Shane," Shane offers to Josiah, with a quick -- if tense -- smile, but no handshake -- he seems disinclined for the moment to untuck himself from where he's packed in against Kay. His voice is a little breathless. words unsteadily broken up as his gills flare rapidly. "/Mutants/ attacking mutants -- that's like that shit with Anole." His eyes have narrowed, slightly. "You know those motherfuckers /chopped/ his damn /arm/ off. And they were freaks too. Who the fuck --" His teeth clench hard, his eyes closing as /finally/ he slowly straightens up. His pure-black eyes sweep over Josiah thoughtfully. "You done anything like this before?" A look of clear and utter confusion washes across Josiah's face, folding the skin of brow, forcing his eyes shut for a moment. "Um, I make copies. And no, I haven't," he states, brushing aside Kay and Shane's questions with simple answers. He doesn't /mean/ to be rude, but seems instead eager to move on and talk about..."His arm? Whose arm? You guys are talking about some pretty weird shit, and if Dusk is involved..." He glances between the three of them, lips pursed. "What the hell is going on out there. Second time this week I've heard mention of violence on mutants. And now my friend?" He shakes his head, having none of it. "He's all of our friend. He's like my /brother/.". Rasputin isn't saying this in an aggressive way at Josiah, actually, just saying it. "Sorry, Kay. Man, I wish you had been there. We'd have taken those fuckers out. Calamari.". Rasputin grimaces at Shane, nodding. "I think it's the same fuckers, shit they're probably going to try and cut..". Rasputin doesn't finish the sentence, before turning back to Josiah. "Clones, neato. I'm..in an animal body. Cat usually. Been busy like, since 5am, haven't swapped.". "Raspy." Kay reaches up and smoothes down the feathers of one wing; his cupped hand here has a FIRMNESS, regardless of his insolently friendly grin, "Enough about us, huh?" The arm looped around Shane, firm for a moment, loosens almost organically to the desire to stand taller - it remains casually draped off the back of his neck, adding a light pat to the side of Shane's neck. Smoothing down the gills there. His gaze is locked on Josiah though, "We'll break you in. See if we can't set someone up to show you the ropes, how to set up a," he finally reclaims either arm to throw a fainted slow motion upper-cut towards the underside of the younger man's jaw. It doesn't connect, obviously, "good punch. Get an idea how your abilities work. Dupe-ing up can be /hella/ useful, kiddo, depending how it goes. I've seen a guy be a holy terror with it before." A shining recommendation, from Kay. His hands drop - remaining in fists. And his eyes slide in small measured glances towards the windows, the door. "There's a lot of violence in this -- everywhere," Shane says with a grimace. A shudder ripples through him at Rasputin's aborted mention of cutting -- and he clenches his teeth harder, a quiet growl rumbling in his throat. "-- I should call B. And Pa. They were supposed to meet me here but if." He bites down on his lip, swallowing hard. Beneath Kay's patting hand his gills press flat again, his breathing evening out steadily once they are closed. "Don't know exactly what's going on out there," he tells Josiah, through his teeth. "The newspapers've had reports of bodies hacked to pieces. /I'd/ --" He cuts himself off again, drawing in a slow breath. "I gotta call my brother. And -- maybe then hit someone." Josiah watches Kay's arm massage the space in front of him, looking less than amused. "All of sudden I don't feel like fighting in a ring tonight," he tells the older man. To Shane, he nods. "I read about that, sure. Hard to forget a story about dismemberment." He crosses his arms, one finger tapping - either nervously or imapatiently - against his bicep. He turns to Kay. "I appreciate you letting me stick around, but I think I should skip the event tonight, come back when I can focus. This wasn't exactly the night I was expecting." He eyes the door and then the bird. "Cool power. I wish I could fly." Rasputin stops talking as ze feels the firmness, before speaking again. "Not as cool as it seems. No human body. No hands.". Rasputin then flaps off of Kay's shoulder. "I should..go look again. Cya.". And is then flying for the door, waiting for someone to grab it for hir. "Yeah, buddy." Kay nods, watching the flutter of wing pinions necessary for Rasputin's exit. And brushes absently at a shoulder in case there are any birdy GIFTS left behind. Still watching Josiah, even while stepping aside to allow him better access to the exit. He taps the side of an elbow thoughtlessly to the side of Shane's head, "Fight me." And then turns. And heads for the downstairs steps.