ArchivedLogs:Happier Stars

Happier Stars
Dramatis Personae Shane, Micah	21 February 2014 Scavenger hunt with some walking and talking. (Part of the Morpheus TP.)
Location <NYC> Lower East Side
Historically characterized by crime and immigrant families crammed into cramped tenement buildings, the Lower East Side is often identified with its working-class roots. Today, it plays host to many of New York's mutant poor, although even here they are still often forced into hiding. It's been mild enough all day that even now after dark the weather has hardly dipped down into /wintry/, a pleasant-enough mid-forties with an earlier spot of drizzling long since cleared up. Shane is, accordingly, not all /that/ bundled up, a warm wool peacoat over his neat black corduroys, black ankle boots, a black-and-grey knit cap pulled down over his head. Unlike his brother he makes very few efforts to do much to hide his blue skin, webbed hands, distinctly uncanny-valley inhuman features; also accordingly this means that so far the walk out here has been met with a certain level of uncomfortableness in the crowded Friday-night city, though today it's been more people crossing the street quickly to edge away than doing anything to Start Trouble. Shane carries a large messenger bag slung crossways across his chest and he carries this with shoulders a little more squared than they were when he left home, chest a little more puffed out, chin tipped up a little bit farther; he meets discomfited looks with sharp-toothed /grins/ and -- admittedly has been slightly less conversational with the rapid fluttering of his gills. But there's a greater bounce to his step as they near their newest destination -- not /quite/ their final destination /yet/ but one of /many/ stops made along the way so far to add to the increasing bounty in his messenger bag -- this time Shane has to get down on his knees to root around at the underneath of a mailbox, coming back up with a small black box that turns out to contain a shiny star-shaped brooch decorated in glittering bits of blue and white. "-- Oh man. I bet we're doing way better than B and Spence already." It's mild enough that Micah is only half-bundled. His Jayne hat, olive puffy coat, and only one pair of gloves with no scarf top his Batsignal hoodie and faded bluejeans. The sidewalks themselves are largely cleared, but Micah carries his neon orange forearm crutches strapped to his back just in case. He sticks quite close to Shane as they walk, also meeting gazes steadily when people give Shane less than friendly looks. When Shane goes looking for the latest star, he stands by and observes. "Y'might be a little weighed down with me on your team. Didn't exactly help much what with bein' at work most of the day." He moves in to observe the new item. "Oh, pretty." "Well, Spence and B were at school most of the day so we're sort of even. And B'll probably spend half of all weekend working, like a /schmuck/." Shane takes the brooch out of its box, trotting over with it to Micah to open up the older man's coat partway. He leans in to pin the star-brooch to Micah's hoodie. "And /pfft/ Geekhaus has /Hive/ on their team he's the least mobile of anyone. -- of course Flicker's like. Ultra-ultra-mobile? So maybe that's cheating enough to compensate." He looks into the box, tugging out the little slip of paper from inside it that's been nestled beneath the pin. "'Around a true haven the next stars revolve; it could be again, with a little resolve.' He reads the clue out, handing it over to Micah again afterwards. "-- And Pa's at work /always/ does he even get a team? I bet his eye'd just light the fuck up at all this." "Hm. Guess that's right. Geekhaus has the advantage on us of not bein' nearly so...employed. An' Flicker /could/ just pop t'the sites once they figure the riddles out. Prooobably they're doin' the best outta those groupin's." Micah grins at the new adornment. "We'll have t'remember t'take that back off of there for the stash count later." A soft 'hm' answers the question of Jax. "Prob'ly we could pull 'im onto our team an' no one would complain much since he's so busy? Also, d'those always rhyme? Sounds like they're pointin' to Evolve." "They've got wings /and/ a teleporter /and/ Flicker's the only one of them with even a pretense of a schedule. Umm some of them have had poems that rhyme but they don't -- always no. I think they always /should/. Everything's better when it rhymes." Shane tucks the slip of paper back into the box and the empty box into his messenger bag. "S'pretty. All of this." He waves a hand absently at -- a nearby office building and its newly redesigned futuristic look. "Plus I just like the thought that someone out there's walking around with a head full of stars. Dreaming the whole city into the future. -- Evolve's only like a block and a half that way, c'mon." His hand drops to rest on the messenger bag as he starts walking again, claws scritching lightly at its front. "... It'd probably take more than resolve, though." This is quieter, musing. "Yep. Totally cheatin', they are," Micah concludes without any hint of accusation to his tone. "Definitely /is/ pretty. 'Specially for a head full of /nice/ stars." He nods at the report of the distance to Evolve. "Mmhmm, definitely walkable. Resolve amongst other things...didn't say it had t'be /exclusively/ resolve." He follows along behind Shane. "-- and then from there it's only like another two blocks to Pa's studio. Maybe if we're lucky the next star after Evolve will be on the way. But if not I bet Pa'd come with us for it." Shane tips his head back, squinting up at Micah in puzzlement. "/Nice/ stars? What other kind of stars are there?" His hands tuck into the pockets of his coat, smile curling a little crooked. "Probably resolve and money and a large dose of stupidity." “That /would/ be convenient,” Micah replies to Shane's plan. His head shakes at the question of...less pleasant stars to be residing within people's heads. “We should have a talk 'bout that later. S'the kinda news that does better with less need for repeatin', I think. Best t'tell you boys at the same time. Finish off a nice evenin' of star huntin' first.” Another soft 'hm' comes from his throat. “Does seem destined t'be a target again as soon as its doors might reopen, unfortunately.” Shane turns to walk backwards, for a few paces, the better to frown up at Micah with this first answer. "/Cryptic/ bad-stars. OK. Our sun's not about to implode or anything, is it?" He turns back on a heel again, quieting as he turns down the small side-alley that once housed Evolve. "Miss having it, though. It was nice to have somewhere that was kind of -- ours. It's not like we have many --" His teeth drag against his lower lip, steps slowing as they approach the boarded-up door. His dark eyes flick over the doorway uncertainly. "... plus I just hate the idea that we just kind of turn tail and hide because people are assholes. Maybe it just needs to open again under someone who'll fight back." "Apologies, I don't /mean/ t'be cryptic. It's nothin' that...world-endin', no. S'just someone's personal news that's best told all at once. Is all." Micah's teeth dig into his lip as he trudges along behind the teen. He looks at the boarded-up door sadly. "Was nice. T'have a normal daytime hangout /and/ a place folks could go for dancin' an' all at night, too. There's a couple of places that do the first, but none I know of as far as the second." A slight nod answers Shane's assessment. "Just need t'figure a way of 'fightin' back' without endin' up in jail. Havin' money t'hire serious private security, I guess." "I don't think a coffeehouse is ever going to have the Clinic's kind of budget," Shane says regretfully. "I mean, fuck, the /Clinic/ barely has the Clinic's kind of budget, I'm pretty sure they're scraping for donations every quarter just to keep the doors open. And security's a pretty -- not-insignificant part of their costs. But something like that's also way more of a target than selling coffee, I'd think -- oh!" This last is startled and a little delighted, as a small orange star-shaped balloon comes bobbing into sight at around Micah's head-height, drifting its way around the corner of the building. "It really /is/ orbiting!" “S'a shame how much they have t'spend on that 'stead of on actually /helpin'/ people, but... The unfortunate reality for now. One would /hope/ coffeehouses wouldn't attract as much violence, either, but past experience don't help that theory overmuch.” Micah's gloved fingers reach up to fuss through his hair, thwarted by the presence of /hat/. “Ohgosh, that'n's tryin' t'get away. Better catch it.” He giggles and holds back a bit, letting the teen have the fun of securing the balloon. "OK, so a coffeeshop with bouncers." Shane's teeth bare in an amused grin. "Telepathic ones. Ones with forcefields. I mean the Clinic's not even half a mile away, could just steal their guards for part-time work when they're off shift," he says with amusement. Amusement that grows as he stretches a hand up -- nope, /too/ short -- and then eventually climbs the railing of the stairs up to the building next to Evolve, hopping off of it t swipe the balloon out of midair. He hugs it to his chest as he returns to Micah. "-- I think it's /still/ trying to squirm away it's like a fucking Snitch or something." He takes off the paper tag that's wrapped around the balloon's knotted-closed stem, giving it to Micah as he starts tying the balloon to his bag. "C'mon. Let's go get Pa."