ArchivedLogs:Funger Games

Funger Games
Dramatis Personae Scramble, Shane	2016-02-09 "{It's not a betrayal. It's... Only love.}
Location <NYC> Sunyata - Bronx
The construction of this squat office building in Port Morris ground to a halt over a year ago. Since, a group of punks have taken it over and converted it to one of the more impressive squats in the city. From outside, the building is wildly colorful, covered with massive interlocking murals. The roof supports a thriving urban farm with a sizeable greenhouse and beehives, while the offices below are homes to both long- and short-term residents, who are encouraged but not actually required to contribute supplies, income, and labor to the community. The cavernous lobby has no glass, but has become a partially indoor skate park/playground, including a rather popular free-running circuit. Dogs and cats and children wander the grounds, shamelessly soliciting food and attention from any who will give it. It's a damp, gray, cheerless kind of day. Inside the semi-open lobby of Sunyata it is even darker, but at least there's shelter from the wind and drizzle. In the ground-level skate park, few punks are fooling around on their boards down below in lackadaisical fashion. Scramble is sitting at the edge of a balcony two stories above them, one long leg dangling down over the edge and the other folded beneath her on the thick blanket she had spread out on the cold concrete. A small barrel fire burns low but warm behind her. She wears a red canvas motorcycle jacket, old, worn jeans torn at the knees (red-and-black striped socks visible through the holes), large gold hoops adorning her ears and matching bangles on her wrists. Flicks a lighter, touches the flame to the glittering black glass pipe she has just packed. Inhales deep. Passes both pipe and lighter to her companion. Breathes a long, steady stream of smoke. In contrast to Scramble, Shane looks very uncolourful -- save for the deep blue he always brings with him, anyway. Black corduroys, grey sweater, black leather Mutant Mongrels kutte worn open over top of it. A pair of heavy smokey metallic boots on his feet, though he's shucked the matching gauntlets that accompany them. He plucks the pipe from Scramble with one hand, webbed fingers not so webbed as usual with their membrane hanging loose between them. He sits in a crouch beside Scramble, leaning slightly forward as he flicks at the lighter an takes a hit, his gills pressing down flat alongside his neck as he breathes in. His eyes are just a little cloudy, inner eyelids slid shut. It takes him a good long moment before he breathes out, hands the pipe back. Scramble looks down at the skateboarders, eyes half-lidded. She accepts the pipe back, flicks the lighter and watches the low flame for a moment. Takes another hit. Tucks the pipe gently back into Shane's hand. "{Fuck February, yeah?}" Her Spanish is lazy and rough. She slings one long, wiry arm around the shark pup, the other hand grasping the steel railing loosely. "{What you been up to, aside from superheroing? And school?}" Her dark eyes drop down to the loose, torn webbing between his fingers. "{There's life outside of school?}" Shane's eyes widen somewhat incredulously. His fingers close around the pipe slowly, eyes fixed on it a long moment as he leans in against Scramble's side. "{Been a shitty superhero. Been a shitty...}" His eyes close. Open again slowly, one claw extending to scrape lightly into the bowl. "{Mostly being poor. They okay here? Not-scumbags?}" "{Hard to believe, I know.}" Scramble's arm squeezes down tightly on Shane. "{Well, yeah, being poor's hard work,}" she says, her voice mild and casual. "{Here? Mostly just folks wanna have a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. Some are rad, some are dicks, a lot think they're wiser and more progressive than they are. You know. They're people.}" She shrugs. "{You got a plan for Evolve yet?}" "{It's okay, we've had lots of practice. My pa is...}" Shane trails off, here, though, just lighting the pipe again. His gills flutter halfway through the hit, shoulders twitching sharply and his eyes watering. "{Think this is about spent.}" His voice is a little raspy, gills fluttering when he turns pipe and lighter back to Scramble. "{Didn't I tell you? I'm,}" his teeth bare in a sharp-sharp grin, "{We're going to open it. Open it back up with a fucking. /Bang/. All the bang.}" "{Your pa doing alright?}" Scramble looks down at Shane, brows wrinkling faintly. "{I mean. All things considered.}" She takes the pipe back, turns to the beaten up old aluminum lunchbox (though the glossy Rat Queens illustrations on it look fresh and new) sitting beside her. "{You mentioned there was gonna be a fundraiser.}" There's a slight lift to her intonation, like it's almost a question. She cleans out the bowl and packs a fresh bud into it. "{With a bang, huh?}" Raising one elegant black eyebrow. "{Probably not the way /I'm/ thinking.}" Offers the pipe to Shane again. "{My pa --}" Shane's teeth grit. "{You know him. He's always shining.}" He tucks his head in against Scramble's shoulder, gills still fluttering. "{I don't know. What way are you thinking? /I'm/ -- I'm thinking,}" he plucks the pipe from her, pausing to light it and pull in deep. His eyes slide closed as his gills press flat again. "{I'm thinking we're going to play. All the games. Haven't decided what yet though. What's the /freakest/ of games?}" Scramble drapes her arm back around Shane, hand smoothing down over the fluttering gills. "{Shining don't mean he's alright,}" she says softly. "{Ain't /recommending/ robbing a bank, was just the first thought come to mind.}" Now bow brows lift up, though. "{Games? Which games the freakest, depends on which /kind/ of games. Splatoon's pretty freaky, s'far as video games go. Evolution's a good freaky board game...}" "{Shining /bright/.}" Shane's teeth bare more /fiercely/ here. "{You have a bank in mind? I have,}" now he laughs, quicker, gills fluttering again as he passes the pipe back to Scramble, "{I have. I have to pay the -- pay for being a mutant. Not being a mutant.}" He shakes his head. Firmly. "{No no no. Not your /nerd/ games. I mean the hitting kind. Sporting kind. Going to play all the games. Like a X-games. Freak games. For people to watch. Raise some /cash/. It'll be great. Who /wouldn't/ pay to see Dusk doing --}" Bigger grin. "... anything really." Scramble's hand squeezes down on Shane's shoulder at the 'bright.' "{How 'bout the Federal Reserve? Government been robbing /us/ and helping all the other banks do the same.}" She takes a leisurely puff on the pipe. Tilts her head back and stares up at the ceiling before finally exhaling. Smile curling wide. "{Ohhh.../that/ kind. Hm...}" She looks back down. Hands Shane the pipe. It's a long while before she replies, /confidently/, "{Quidditch.}" Shane flicks a claw lightly against his kutte, nodding to himself. "{Bet if we suggested it to Ion the Fed would be knocked over like /that/.}" His shoulders shake in quiet laughter. He kind of just forgets to take the pipe, eyes squeezing shut as he rocks back and forth on his clunky metal boots. "{Some of us wouldn't even need the brooms. We would make /bank/ on a mutant Quidditch match. I need a whole. Whole. Whole lineup though. Mutant parkour. Mutant gymnastics. Mutant -- oil wrestling.}" "{Tempting.}" Scramble taps her chin with one long, slender finger. "{Might run afoul of copyright issues, I guess.}" Though she doesn't actually sound any /less/ enthused about the prospect. "{We gotta keep all this above-board, right? For Evolve's sake.}" She sets the pipe aside and leans back, closer to the heat of the fire behind them. "{Capture the flag might be fun, too. Maybe invent some new games, too -- 3-D squash or something. Natalie will /own/ some parkour and gymnastics and...}" There's a low, soft purr in her voice. "{...oil wrestling.}" "{Yeah. Yeah, have to keep it legit. Not mutant Hunger Games, mutant --}" Shane turns over, flopping down on the blanket and draping half over Scramble's lap. His eyes droop lazily closed. "Funger games. Who's this. This Natalie?" He cracks an eye open at the purr in Scramble's voice. "{You and she been oil wrestling?}" Scramble guffaws, dropping her head forward. "/Funger/ Games, boy you cray." She runs her hand down his side, humming contently. "{You probably seen her -- was staying at Evolve during the outbreak. Pale white girl, red hair, green eyes? Fast like a freak. Beautiful ass.}" Her eyes slide shut, her smile spreading wider. "{No oil wrestling, though.}" "Can't be crazier than running the fucking place," Shane answers with a chuckle, "{Do you know how many death threats we...}" This trails off, his eyes fluttering back closed. "{Oh, shit, I've seen that chick. That hair is /something/.} She's got moves? She should play. In my games. Mutant dodgeball. Mutant... mutant..." He furrows his brows. "{... I should get someone who actually knows goddamn sports to help with this.}" He looks up at Scramble with a curious tilt of head. "But do you /want/ to be. Oil wrestling. That's the question." "{Ain't been keeping a count, but yeah, I know.}" Scramble's hand pets at Shane's head in sloppy-lazy fashion. "{Oh yeah, she's got moves -- was a big shot gymnast before she got outed. Pretty damn sure she'll wanna sign up.}" For a moment it seems like she might have drifted off. But then, "You wanna tap Geekhaus for your Sportsball referencing needs." After a long considering hum, she shrugs, a slow roll of her angular shoulders. "Think I do, actually. It's just kinda weird, you know? {Not used to thinking about anyone new that way.}" "Woooah. Oh man. I mean not that I'm going to be keeping people /out/ if they're not Real Genuine Athletes or anything but. {Real Genuine Athletes there would be /fantastic/ if she wants to. Sign up. We could use some actual /flash/ you know. If I'm going to get Evolve -- evolving.}" Shane's eyes close, head slowly nuzzling up into the petting. His gills open and close, lazily. Eventually, he ventures a nod. "... yeah. Yeah, I -- I get kinda weird. {Is... it a good weird, though?}" There's a small swallow that rolls down his throat. "{Or okay one, anyway.}" Scramble nods. Slowly, many times. "Yeah, I'll ask her. I'm very persuasive." This /kind/ of smugly, with a crooked smirk. "{Man Evolve ain't never /stopped/ evolving. This is more like...some inexplicable mass mutation event.}" Her fingers scritch at Shane's spiky hair. "{It's a good weird. Took me a lot of time and a lot of processing to not feel guilty about that. It's not a betrayal. It's...}" She kind of trails off, looking up again. "{Only love.}" It takes a long time for Shane's eyes to open again, though when they do they're gleaming brighter than before. "Only love." His smile is slow, too, but eventually curls there. Small. Crooked. "Yeah-okay. {Good... weird... love. That -- fits.}"