ArchivedLogs:Fixes
| Fixes | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2015-06-22 "Sounds like a practical joke if you ask me." (Part of Buzzkill TP.) |
| Location
<NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side | |
Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to plentiful artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse. Despite the general miasma of DESPAIR that has hung over coffeeshops around the city lately, Evolve is still fairly packed. Admittedly, it is kind of packed and -- under a miasma of despair. But its highly /particular/ target audience -- let's face it, has sort of a /dearth/ of options when it comes to Where To Hang Out in the city. So the seats are still full, even if -- people might not be /buying/ quite as much. Dusk's table isn't full, though. He's sort of (rudely, given the crowd) taken up an entire table all to himself. Cluttery. Messenger bag slung onto an empty chair. Laptop and wires and -- are those /dragonflies/? Big metal robotic ones, brightly coloured -- seated on the surface of the table together with his roast beef sandwich and huge glass of something (pale) red and iced beside a tall thermos. He's shirtless (evidently this place doesn't have particular /standards/ about that), though the way his enormous wings are folded around him makes it hard to immediately notice. The wings are vividly coloured, today -- silver-chromed talons with the membranes deep ocean blue, subtle patterning on the soft fur giving the impression of rippling water. There's a changing holographic projection, above his table. A map of the city, highlighted. The holograph seems to be tangible, though; it responds when he pokes at it, the highlighting changing and shifting. Micah is just coming in from work, it would seem, clad still in TARDIS-blue polo shirt and khakis as he is. He makes his way back from the counter with an iced chai in one hand and a chocolate-chunk muffin in the other, slipping into a seat at Dusk's table as if melting in the process. "At least the drinks're still /cold/ here for now. When y'get 'im iced." His grin at this is half-hearted at best. Once items meet a corner of the table /not/ full of goods already, he tucks his messenger bag onto the back of his chair by its strap. "Looks like y'got the B special for tech today. Mind if I ask what's doin'?" Anette has also sectioned off a table for herself though instead of technology, it's filled with empty cups. A whole smattering of coffee and latte and frappe and teas and everything else this place serves. In fact, she's finishing off an espresso right now. Normally, she might be suffering from a caffeine induced coma right now. However, lately hasn't been normal and her most recent intake at worst might give her a sugar buzz. Might. "Son of a..." she grumbles, pushing her cup away to join the rest cluttering the table. Today, Jack's not shirtless like he has been during his past couple visits to Evolve. He got some fashion advice from Rasa and today is in jeans and a nice light hoodie that's only half zipped up revealing he's not wearing anything under it. Light fabric or not, it is still hot out. He's waiting at the pickup counter, looking around the cafe while he waits. When his eyes catch that holographic projection and the people around it, he perks up though. He lifts a sleeve to wave, intending to head over once his order arrives. Having been stuck in the mansion for most of the weekend, Rictor needed a break and so trekked into the city to grab a cup of coffee and get some work done. He's not a caffeine fiend like so many people in New York, but he does notice that his attitude toward coffee shops and the beverages they specialize in has changed over the last little while, though he can't put his finger on why. Tonight, he's seated at a table next to Dusk's and has done his best to focus on his own laptop and not the mess of technology strewn about the neighboring table, though certainly he has taken notice of it all. And as more people start to gather around the already crowded table, he is forced to readjust his position and coughs loudly as he does, because even though he doesn't realize it, the lack of caffeine in his system and in the mug in front of him is making his cranky. Micah is answered with a /scowl/, a deep rumble of growl from the vampire at the table. "I fucking mind. This is hell. We're living in hell, Micah." His fingers flick twitchily at his hologram, the large thumbclaws atop his wings twitching as well. After a moment he picks up his glass, wiping away condensation on the side before taking a long gulp. He snorts, quiet, when he sets it back down, canting a crooked fangy grin towards Anette. "Might as well give it the hell up." He rocks back in his chair, rattling the ice in his cup. Lifting it to wave to Jack. "Gotta get halfway out to the damn burbs before it's worth bothering. Lemonade for me today. Strawberry-basil." Anette groans at Dusk's response and stands up, scooping up all the empty plastic cups in her arms and carrying them to the garbage. "Seriously? What's causing this now?" She chucks the cups into the trash and makes her way to the group surrounding the exciting technology. "Could be worse, booze could stop working." "Right, I won't ask then," Micah replies with an understanding sort of nod. "I can buzz off if y'wanna be alone with it." He grimaces at the mention of the suburbs. "Well, that ruins my one suggestion of the way around it. I'm fortunate enough that my early mornings are in Westchester often enough." The lemonade earns a half-smile at least. "Strawberry-basil's nice?" He also gives a little wave in answer to Jack's. Jack keeps watching until his order arrives, thanking the clerk and then approaching the gathering with a smoothie in hand. He looks the tech over and hums a bit before looking at each of the assembled people. "Hey," he greets, sticking a straw in his drink. "I think there might be riots if that happened," he remarks in reply to Anette. The invisible teen takes a moment to examine the hologram before speaking again. "Okay...this map is cool even if the problem sucks..." he murmurs. Rictor finishes off his order, momentarily staring with disdain at the thin layer of gritty coffee that coats the bottom of his mug. He places it on the tabletop with a sigh and looks about ready to pack things in when a familiar Jack shows up. He inclines his head, should the teen decide to look over, but doesn't immediately say hello. Instead, he gathers the bits of the conversation he's overheard into an assessment: There's a crisis going on. So, he leans in, clears his throat and politely asks the group, "What's the problem then?" "Think there's gonna be riots already. Joshua says half of the people on his truck have been just -- too fried to work. /That's/ one thing I don't want. An overworked, underslepted, non-caffeinated paramedic. /He/ looks like a goddamn fucking zombie." Dusk /grimaces/, here. "... I guess," he says, the growl resurfacing in his voice, "it's a good thing the city's got those damn Sentinels on the ambulances or there'd've been a fair few more deaths already, them not working." He flicks a finger at the map again, mouth hooking back up in a semblance of a smile. The grin only slices /sharper/ at Anette's question. "B's causing it," he tells her, earnestly. "Can you believe it, evil monsterling up and decaffeinated the whole city. Better get your murdering on." The grin hasn't left his face as he swipes a hand through the map, running it down from the north end of the city to the south. "You like?" he asks Jack. "B and I made it. And Hive, I guess." He swivels slightly on the backless stool he sits on, looking Rictor up and down (and up again) before flicking a claw towards the empty mug on the other man's table. "That is. Whole damn city's lost its buzz. Well. At least within these boundaries --" With a gesture towards his map. "For the moment. We're doing our best to track it in -- not really real-time. At the moment we're only updating the map every two hours. Close /enough/, though. If you want to know how far out you need to get to get a working cup." "Oh/gosh/. Yeah, all the paramedics an' firemen an' medical residents. It's an absolute mess. Think maybe we need t'let 'em rotate out with folks outside The Zone or somethin', it keeps goin' like this." Micah gestures to Dusk as he handily answers the questions of What's Going On and What's That Thing. He sips from his drink, caffeine or no, mostly for the cold. There's...nearly a spit-take when Dusk answers that B is at fault. "What? B? Why would B have anythin' t'do with this? Ze wouldn't..." His brow furrows. "I'm gonna...guess maybe that was some kinda inside joke," he guesses belatedly, cheeks flaring red as his glance buries itself down at his cup. At Dusk's "joke", Anette lets out a very loud, very owl-like screech. "NOT funny," she says, holding back most of the anger that floods her. "So no caffeine in this area here," she says, motioning with one of her talons vaguely at the hologram. "Nothing, not a drop. What in the hell could be causing it? And for what purpose?" Now over the B comment, she does seem interested in this caffeine issue. Empty glasses rattle slightly at the mention of Sentinels, a little shiver shooting up Jack's spine. "Yeah...I didn't think anything like this existed outside movies..." he trails off, resisting the urge to poke the hologram. He doesn't want to mess it up. "Hey, Professor," he greets Rictor. He glances up at Anette when the 'joke' is made and the screech gets him wincing. He stays quiet on that subject though, focusing on something else Dusk said. "Wait...updating? What do you mean? Is...whatever's going on spreading?" he asks. On hearing the cause of much distress at the table, Rictor stifles the urge to laugh, because it really is a ridiculous thing to hear, despite the problems that are already arising because of it. Still, the urgency with which the group approaches the issue baits the older man's interest in what amounts to him as Hardy Boys-esque caper. "Sounds like a practical joke if you ask me," he says, well aware that no one has. "Yup," Dusk answers Micah, grin still /sharp/, "totally a joke." He collapses the map down to fit the entirety of New York in glowing projection over the top of his table. "Practical joke, maybe. Maybe some kid manifesting and can't control themselves. Maybe some asshole stealing all the caffeine for themselves in which case I'm raiding their house when I find 'em." His head shakes slightly. "Either way it's causing a shit-ton of problems, emergency response in the city has been FUBAR, productivity is way the hell down, New York was just climbing /out/ of the tank we dropped into after zombies and now we're kinda hemhorraging money again. Not to mention how many coffeeshops are gonna have to close. And I /like/ this place, dammit." He gives a small shake of his head to Jack. "Not -- spreading, not exactly." He gestures towards one of the dragonflies, /signs/ something at it; the map starts to shift, the reddish highlighted area squishing inward in some places, ballooning outward in others. Then retracting. Growing a lump here, losing one there. "Doesn't spread so much as -- change? Its boundaries are hella unstable. B's drones and -- Hive's," he says with a small crooked smile, "are working together to keep it updated. Think I'm going to move to updating it every half-hour instead, though. See if its total /area/ stays consistent at all. Before Hive makes good on his promise to just bomb this city. He says he didn't save New York for this shit." Micah just nods at Dusk's reply on the whole B commentary, but decides not to pursue it further in a group setting. "It isn't that the caffeine is gone from the items, though, is it? Just that it's not workin' on people? So they couldn't be hoarding caffeine, just caffeine effects... It sounds like y'all have figured out a lot more 'bout this than I know, though. I could have it mixed up." His shoulders rise and fall in a shrug. "Good point about likelihood of power involvement, though. Dunno how else it could be happenin'. The...uncontrolled ability theory gets m'vote for what it's worth." He draws an impressed long breath through his front teeth. "Y'all got quite the operation goin'." What he repeats about Hive earns a small chuckle. "Yeah, that sounds like somethin' he'd say, for sure." Anette nods along to Micah as he begins listing theories. "Right, some sort of...inhibitor keeping caffeine from working. I like the idea of an uncontrolled mutant but could one mutant REALLY cover the entire city like this? Especially, if it's uncontrolled, likely one new to their powers? Course, now I'm thinking a thousand other questions. If you loaded with caffeine and crossed a border, would it suddenly kick in? If you carried a cup over the border..." She grins at the mention of Hive. "Don't blame him at all." "If it's a joke, its worse than one of mine," Jack remarks with a faint laugh. "Could also be someone doing it on purpose..." the invisible teen trails off. He takes a long sip of his smoothing as he looks at the map, the liquid just vanishing when it reaches the top of the straw. "What's at the center of the area? I mean...as close to a center as there is?" he asks carefully, starting to get an idea. So, there is clearly something amiss here, something that doesn't necessarily upset Rictor (at least in terms of not getting caffeinated in the city), but something affecting nonetheless. He sits back in his seat and continues to listen to the conversation, taking admiring looks at the technology on display as he does. For now, he doesn't contribute more than he already has, choosing instead to consider each of the individuals' ideas as they come privately. "If you take a cup over the border and drink it, it works just fine. The caffeine isn't denatured, it's just -- suppressed." Dusk's wings unfold from around him, shaking out briefly with a small ripple of watery-blue design. His shoulders roll in a slow stretch, and he stifles a yawn before reaching for his thermos. He pops the lid, taking a long swig and putting it back down. His tongue swipes across his upper row of teeth, head shaking again at Jack. "Still working on calculating that. It's -- the area -- I mean, it's not stable. Or symmetrical. It's hard to find much of a center to something that's fluid and keeps shifting. So far as I can tell as yet, like -- /somewhere/ in Lower Manhattan, but it's going to be a freaking headache getting more precise. What I need," he says with a quick laugh, "is some gorram /caffeine/ to get my brain working enough for this problem." Micah nods along with the theories and particularly Dusk's explanation. "Good, that was the impression I was gettin', too. An' movin' about /would/ make it hard to pinpoint. But also does fit the theory of it bein' a person. Folks don't just sit in one space. If it's like...an area of effect spell? It'd cling an' follow the person around for whatever radius." He offers a slow grin. "Need t'set up a 'porter system for poppin' people into unaffected zones t'grab a dose 'fore gettin' back t'what they need t'do here. Not sure how else t'handle the effects 'til they can get figured an' dealt with direct. Or they go away on their own, just like they showed up. /That'd/ be nice, but likely too easy for the Universe to tolerate." Micah gestures at the map. "Lemme know if there's anythin' I can do t'help? Even if it's just drivin' folks out for fixes. An' now I sound like a drug dealer..." His head shakes slowly at how odd the whole thing is. "Technically, you -would- be. Caffeine is a drug," Anette can't help but murmur. "Alright, if we assume it is a single person, or thing, then we'd just have to figure out where the center is moving to. I mean...most people have a routine of sorts. Or at least, commonly visited places. Then you should be able to figure it out from there. And now I sound like a CSI episode..." Still, she doesn't seem turned off by the idea. Her talons are eagerly gripping the back of someone's chair as she continues to watch the hologram, even as no information presents itself. "So Lower Manhattan..." Jack sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. It's a lot bigger an area than he was hoping to hear. "Do all the bumps like...go the same distance? Like grow the same amount...man that sounds off," he shakes his head. "Anything I can do to help? I mean all I can think of right now is heading down to that part of town and poking around..." he trails off, shoulders slumping slightly. As the rest of the group continues to discuss the issue, Rictor begins packing up his things - laptop, phone, notebook, etc. - into the bag he's brought with him. He does this precisely and with care, but quickly enough. As he stands he says, "Good luck with all the sleuthing. I'm impressed with your dedication." He offers a quick smile, then addresses Jack directly. "Come see me back at school when you have the chance." First he waves to the group as a whole, and then he heads for the exit. "Well, you know. When it comes to the /important/ things in life," Dusk answers Rictor, solemnly, "we're not afraid of hard work." He drains the rest of his lemonade after this, fingers flicking again to shut the hologram down. He's starting to rise, too, stretching his wings again as he packs his things. "Nah. Not the same size -- None of it's been even. Whoever this is they're erratic." Though this prompts a snort: "/Probably/ jittery. Too much damn caffeine. And good /luck/ with that teleporting idea. You'll probably lose a few teeth if you try asking any favours of Joshua right now. I'd invest," he suggests -- brightly! Helpfully! (with a small grin to Anette), -- "in a pair of wings, if I were you all. Car accidents been up a shit-ton, too." "Priorities," Micah agrees with an equally-solemn nod. "Hm. So not the same size...I guess the strength of the effect could ebb and flow given outside factors. An' /ohgosh/ if this is one person an' what's happenin' is all the caffeine effects are bein' /transferred/ to 'em? I guess without the chemical, that'd avoid toxicity. But...he'd be pretty tweaky by now." The solemn nod turns into a firm headshake. "Not favours /of/ Joshua. /For/ 'im. He's at the top of the gettin'-caffeine /priority/ list. I mean. If I have any say in the theoretical list, anyhow." Chuckling, he gestures with his chin at Dusk's wings. "Y'been able t'fly yourself out t'caffeine adequately at all? Or s'it still too-far?" "Ah, yes. Let me just pop off to New Jersey for a cup of coffee. Be back in a flash," Anette chuckles at the suggestion of wings. "So...no constants then? This is...odd. There has to be SOMETHING causing this. Maybe this was an attack on New York afterall. Like you said, paramedics, car accidents...it's clearly doing some damage. Still, there are more efficient ways to destroy a city." She hmphs and leans back, stretching her arms and wings out with a slight yawn. "I'd like to get to the bottom of this soon." "Sure. I'll see you later, Professor," Jack answers Rictor with an unseen smile. He glances at Micah before letting out a thoughtful hum. "I think...I'll finish my smoothie then go check out down in that part of New York..." he trails off. "It could just be a test run for something bigger...or all they can do," he suggests to Anette, shoulders rising and falling with a shrug. "I've been out and had coffee, yeah. /Adequately/'s another question. -- Oh, jeez." Dusk's eyes widen, his already pale skin getting a few notches paler at Jack's words. He finishes packing up, slinging his messenger bag over his chest. "I'd been so hung up on how no coffee is the /end/ of the goddamn /world/ I hadn't even thought of if they were working up to something worse. We -- had better get this figured out soon, yeah." His wings shudder, against his back. One wing stretches out, brushing a wingtip lightly against Anette's arm in passing as he starts to head out. "Think I have your email. I'll share the map with you, if you want to get to -- exploring. Do I have yours?" He frowns uncertainly in Jack's direction. "-- B can add you, anyhow. -- /I/ gotta stretch my wings. Peace." His head jerks upwards in a nod to the other three as he heads for the door. "Count me in on the team. I'll help update things on your map as I can? I think I may be one of the more wide-ranging of us, all the random driving I get up to. An' I can use m'self as a guinea pig bein' all over." Micah offers a little pat to Dusk's shoulder. "Mmn. I ran my mouth instead of eating my snack. Think I'll to-go the rest of it so's I can get home. Later, folks! Good talkin' to y'all." | |
