ArchivedLogs:Haven

Haven
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Tian-shin
In Absentia	2015-03-06 "I think it's the magic of Being Chinese."
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Commonhaus - Lower East Side
Accessible to all residents of the Commons via electronic keycard, this three-story building holds a number of facilities freely available for the shared use of all Commons residents. The stone-floored foyer is high ceilinged -- balconies on the two upper floors look down into this entrance, leaving just the wide skylit ceiling three stories up to trickle light down through the whole of the house. Through wide wood-and-glass doors the spacious dining area is visible on the left; on the right, heavier doors beside the elevator lead to the similarly large kitchens. There are four single-user toilets on this floor, two apiece by the foyer and the dining room. Though a wide staircase runs all the way up, there is also an elevator tucked to one side. For the adventurous, though, there's another way up through the house -- through the center of the house where the balconies look down, an enormous climbing structure has been erected, solid wood platforms softened with carpeting, held together with strong spiderwebbed steel cables. Interlaced in an intricate maze that spirals up through the whole of the house and down to the basement, it provides a crazily winding path to duck and wriggle and worm through, with exits -- if you can /find/ them -- dispensed out onto each upper balcony and into the basement below. It's cold outside. Dipped back solidly into Frigid, windy in a way that is kicking up the dusty-powdery snow -- it /isn't/ currently snowing but the wind makes it kind of look like half a blizzard all the same. The hour is late-late-late. Though it oddly hasn't made the Commons all that sleepy, busier in the middle-of-the-night on a Friday than, say, during the daytime on a workday -- many of the houses have lit windows, as does the Commonhaus. Both the second floor and the basement show warm and inviting signs of inhabitance, though the ground floor is mostly dark. Mostly. Not /entirely/. In the kitchen a small light flicks on and off as the fridge door opens, closes again. A dark silhouette shape is making its way through, nabbing a container from the fridge and then wandering back out into the foyer. Dusk's face is illuminated soon after by the blue-white light of his phone screen, brows furrowing as he swipes at the screen. Out in the cold, Tian-shin huddles against the wind despite the shelter of her heavy black coat. She has a black beret pulled much farther down on her head than altogether fashionable, and a red-black check scarf obscures most of her face. A crust of snow and salt adheres half-way up the calf of her black boots. She hurries up to the Commonhaus door and knocks, shuffling in place for warmth. Dusk has been starting towards the climbing sculpture in the center of the room -- not to go /into/ its tunnels but simply to hook a wing-claw on the outside of its sturdy steel cables and start hauling himself upward. The knock tips his attention back down, though. He drops the short two feet back to the ground, ambling back towards the door to pull it open. "Woah. Christ --" He looks past Tian-shin half as though he expects to see someone after her, pulling the door wider to let her in. And to /shield/ himself from the cold it is letting in as well -- he's not really dressed for it. Shirtless (and rather copiously bruisey all along his pale torso), barefoot, only a blue and grey sarong wrapped low around his hips. In the dim light the patterning on his wings can only barely be made out, faint glimmers of starlight-silver captured on the membrane against a midnight blue background. His talons gleam in much brighter metallic, though. "Sorry, sorry!" Tian-shin stomps her feet to dislodge as much snow as will come off on its own and darts inside with remarkable alacrity. "Thank you so much. I'm here to visit my brother, but I beat him here, I guess," she blurts, moving out of the way so that the door can close. "Tag--is my brother, I mean. Neither he nor Joshua was home." She blinks at Dusk a few times, eyes flicking from his naked chest to his wings, to his sarong, back up to his face. "I'm Tian-shin. You're...hurt." "Yeah, half of everyone's still down at Fight Club. I checked out. I'm fucking wiped." Dusk nudges the door back closed, wrapping his wings around his chest and then folding them back behind himself. "Right, right. Tag's sister. Cool. Dusk." He offers a hand out, fingers curled closed (around his phone) for a lazy fistbump. "What, they haven't gotten you a key yet? Slackers. You would've froze." "Fight Club?" Tian-shin echoes, nonplussed. "Aren't you supposed to...not talk about that?" She bumps the proffered fist and pulls off her hat with the other hand. Somehow her hair still looks impeccable in the elaborate braided bun, little wooden persimmons dangling from the hairstick that holds it in place. "Tag mentioned getting me a key, but no, they haven't gotten around to it. Usually I just come here /with/ him, so it hadn't really come up." She casts around for somewhere to put her damp cold weather gear. "I would have just found a bar or waited in the subway, if no one had answered here. Better than going home. Don't let me keep you from...whatever you were doing. I'll just. Maybe...make some tea?" "Nah. Not that kinda movie I talk about Fight Club /all/ the /time/ it's pretty awesome. -- woah shit what kind of hair magic is that? I put a hat on I come out looking like fucking --" Dusk scruffles a hand through his messy mop of hair -- it leaves it somewhat messier though it's really not easy to tell, as tousled as it already was. "Here, trade you." He offers the tupperware in his other hand out towards Tian-shin, nodding towards her damp clothes instead. "There's cubbies right there -- we're kind of hippies here, nobody ever steals shit." "What kind of Fight Club is it, then?" Tian-shin blushes, reaching back to touch her hair as though expecting to find it quite unpresentable. "Oh! I think it's the magic of Being Chinese. Tons of practice probably doesn't hurt, either. Thank you." She surrenders coat, hat, and scarf, all still chilly from outside. "It's a lovely community, what I've seen of it. Do you live here, or are you visiting, too?" "The kind with a lot of punching." Dusk trades his food (it turns out to be a number of Vietnamese spring rolls, spicy dipping sauce tucked in a small tub inside) for Tian-shin's winter gear to stow it away. "It kicks ass. I live here. I love it here. Do you /want/ a key? I can't make you a key to Funhaus. But for here? And it's gotta be more practice than genes, I've seen Tag's hair all /up/ in his face. More often than not, really." "I figured that, but there are many kinds of clubs for punching." Tian-shin follows Dusk, a bit self-consciously lost-puppy-like. "I practice wu-shu, the kind of place I go to punch people is very different from, say a boxing gym, or a pit fight." She looks around. "Oh, I would--like a key, that is, if it's okay? It might not be the last time I end coming here to wait for the Funhausers. Their schedules are a bit...irregular." Then, with a chuckle. "/Almost/ as irregular as Tag's hair. Sometimes I think he must /try/ to make it that messy, because I know he can make it neat, too. He used to do /my/ hair when I was little." "Ohhhh. Huh. That sounds -- pretty, uh." Dusk hangs the coat up, tucking the scarf onto its hanger and the gloves into a neighboring cubbyhole. "Organized." He turns back around, eyes gleaming with an odd reflective shine in the dark room. "Our club, not so much. Not really a /style/. Just a try-not-to-die. Do they even /have/ schedules over there? I have better luck predicting the weather." He is ever so slightly limpy as he starts off further into the foyer again. "Wu shu? With swords and everything?" "It's /pretty/ organized, true, but my Sifu believes in practical applications, too." Tian-shin rubs her hands briskly along her arms. "Though I also appreciate that his approach can't match actually fighting for your life." Her shoulders are still hunched against the phantom chill from outside, though the pink sweater and long gray skirt she wears looks more than adequate to survive the interior of a climate-controlled building. "I'm pretty sure their /jobs/ have schedules, but those schedules seem very subject to change." She straightens a little, smiles quick and shy. "Yes! Swords and staves and fists and feet, among other weapons. I'm partial to the sword, though, myself." "Practical applications is sort of what our fight club is all about. Feel like this world kind of /throws/ fight-for-your-life at us enough when --" Dusk flashes a grin at Tian-shin; though it's easy, warm, it /glints/ sharp and fangy in the dim light, "-- you're enough of a freak." A little stiffly, he rolls a shoulder in a small shrug. "Did you want tea, you still /look/ half frozen." One long-sharp upper thumbclaw hitches forward to indicate the kitchen doors. "Swords are elegant. I'm -- anything /but/," he admits with a small duck of his head, a crooked smile, "but it'd be cool to learn." "Wait, I've seen you..." Tian-shin stares at Dusk's fangs, her hands frozen in place for a moment on her arms. "You're Ryan Holloway! I mean, that's the name that--" She blushes deeply. "I followed your trial pretty closely, last year, but I didn't recognize you like this. Not," she adds hastily, "that there's anything wrong with you looking like...this. I would love some tea thank you." The last sentence spills out of her rather rapidly, with a kind of grateful relief. "Elegant or no, my sword kept me alive through the zombie apocalypse, so I have a rather high opinion of it. They say the sword is the most difficult Chinese weapon to master, but I could show you the basics sometime, if you like." For a moment Dusk's smile freezes in place. His wings press in against his back, his hand scruffing up along the back of his head to curl fingers into his mess of dark hair. A beat later, though, he huffs out a laugh, tongue running up beneath his upper lip and over the fangs. His head shakes. "Nah. Like I said, I'm Dusk." The smile is just as fangy when it returns. He holds the kitchen door open for Tian-shin. "Ryan Holloway's just what the government calls me." This time when his wings fold tightly inward it is just to keep /space/ in the doorway. "I kind of keep my weapons /on/ me. But there's still something --" His head gives a small shake. "I saw some /pretty/ classy zombie-killing. Swords, bows and arrows... Nothing wrong with staying alive in style." "Begging your pardon." Tian-shin bows to Dusk before slipping into the kitchen ahead of him. "Dusk," she repeats it, almost to herself, while poking around the unfamiliar kitchen for familiar implements. "Everyone can use their body as a weapon to some extent but..." Her eyes linger on the gleaming talons that tip the long phalanges of his wings. "I think you pretty much stay alive in style just by...being alive." "S'alright. 'I followed your trial pretty closely' is -- not a thing I'm used to hearing from people, really." Dusk hooks a cabinet door open with a wing to get out a pair of mugs. "Tea's in there, you can take your pick." His other wing is gesturing to a different cabinet. "And I have Tag to thank for most of the /style/. The wings /usually/ just come in plain black -- oh." He looks at Tian-shin's poking sheepishly. "Might help if I --" His fist circles over his heart; he doubles back towards the entrance to actually switch the /lights/ on in the kitchen, shading his eyes with a wingtip as they flicker to life. "I write a blog called Lex Ferenda; it's about the legal system," Tian-shin offers by way of explanation. She chews on her lower lip for a moment. "Mostly about how it's terrible and ineffective. I'm /also/ a lawyer, incidentally. Thanks." The lights blind even her momentarily, but once her sight returns she puts a kettle on and considers the cabinet's contents. "Would you like some tea, also? Oh, and I'm still holding your food." She ducks out from behind the cabinet door and studies Dusk's wings more closely. "You know, he told me he painted /people/ sometimes, but I never pictured...I mean, it's lovely, but honestly it'd still be styling without the artwork." "Lex Ferenda? What's that mean?" Dusk returns to set the pair of mugs down on the counter. He is starting to settle down into a tired lean against it when the edge of the counter presses against a bruise, prompting him to straighten sharply again. His wings shift outward, flexing to display the nighttime sky patterning more clearly. "It gets a lot more intricate than this, sometimes. And you should see what he does with my girlfriend, it's fantastic. -- Yes, please. To the tea, I mean. What sort of lawyer? The legal system is preeeetty much shit. I'm learning that way more than I /ever/ would've liked." "'Future law'," Tian-shin replies, "as in, what the law /ought/ to be, as opposed to what it is right now." She selects a tin of Tung Ting oolong and a rotund blue teapot, glancing at the mugs to determine how much leaf she requires. "I don't doubt it!" A smile spreads across her face, quick and shy. "Bet you have to talk him down to avoid having psychedelic rainbow wings /all the time./" She wanders back over to the kettle and turns to brace her lower back against the counter beside the stove. "I'm interested in pursuing social justice in the courts, but it turns out that you pretty much have to work pro bono or for a big nonprofit that has money to throw around--the ACLU and such. I'm mostly doing the first one, with some freelance legal document preparation on the side." She pulls a face that suggests she does not find this last particularly stimulating. "What do you do with yourself, when you're wrestling with the courts?" "Kinda, yeah. Once in a while I just let him go wild. It's pretty excellent. The day the city got all painted up like an acid trip I let him go crazy on my wings. Every time I went in and out of buildings they changed colour. It was the best." Dusk curls his wings inward to prop against the counter, resting his weight on them rather than his bruised abdomen. "Fff. I mean, there's certainly not a shortage of people out there needing your help, I'm sure." His smile is quick and crooked. "... /prooobably/ just a shortage of ones who can pay, yeah. Guess that doesn't keep the lights on." One wing hitches slightly upwards. "Freelance, too. Kind of nerd shit. I'm a programmer. When I'm not a terrorist." "I can imagine, but what I'm imagining probably doesn't hold a candle to the reality." Tian-shin lifts the kettle off of the flame when it comes to a boil and sets it on an unused burner. "It turns out there's also no shortage of corporations hiring armies of lawyers to fight litigation wars in whirlwind overtime campaigns. /That's/ how I keep the lights on--as a kind of paperwork mercenary. It pay more than enough to cover my utilities and food, given I'm living with our mother, but it also burns me out. Probably also makes me part of the problem." She shrugs, filling the teapot with steaming water. "I guess terrorism doesn't keep the lights on, either. What kind of nerd shit--making costumes, churning out code, trolling?" "We're living in a capitalistic society. /Everyone's/ part of the problem. Kind of impossible not to be." Dusk's smile is briefly amused. "You'd be surprised, really, I've had more than a couple people coming up offering me fucking -- book deals, some -- shitty tv-movie -- who knows. I can only imagine the offers that'd be rolling in from death row if I actually /had/ engineered the zombie plague." Even through this joking, though, he can't suppress a shiver of wings. "I'm a webdev. Hella code. I do make a shitton of costumes, but not for pay." Though this has him looking kind of thoughtful. "Would be fun to /do/ though. The wings kind of -- pushed me into sewing out of necessity. Being a fucking geek kind of made me good at it because I didn't just need shirts I needed to be the best goddamn Dream cosplayer ever. Why don't you move here? Tag and Joshua have space, I'm sure." "It's one thing to perpetuate capitalism, it's another to help the one percent keep the people down." Tian-shin chews on her lower lip thoughtfully. "Though I guess many of those cases are actually the one percent trying to keep /each other/ down..." She shrugs. "So, you're not selling out to to let some white boy with pouty lips play a CG-angel-winged version of yourself. I guess that means you're a pretty good webdev?" Her smile comes fast and a touch crooked, impish for once instead of demure. It does not last, though. She hunches her shoulders in a little before answering his question. "I'm definitely considering it seriously. I don't really feel safe at home anymore, with my brother--the other one." She watches the teapot as if doing so will cause it to brew faster. "That's partly why I'm here so much." "Pfft. I see nothing wrong with parting rich people from their money. Even if you're just handing it over to other rich people. You gotta eat too, right?" Dusk answers Tian-shin's smile with one of his own. The fangs make it look kind of wicked by default. "I'm a fucking amazing webdev." The smile fades away after this, though. "Not safe at home sounds like a much -- stronger push to move than just, man, it's awkward living with mom. What's wrong with your /other/ brother?" His brows hike up. "Does he suck all the colour /out/ of the world?" "I guess not, though it would be nice if parting rich people from their money didn't involve hundred-hour work weeks crammed into rented offices with dozens of other lawyers." Tian-shin rolls her shoulders back to stretch them, as if the very thought of it cramps her. "That's why I started smoking--one some jobs, it was the only excuse to step outside on a regular basis." She laughs, a sharp, sudden, and unhappy noise. "He /does/, kind of, just not literally. He thinks he's a big shot, and he hates mutants. Up until recently, it /was/ just awkward, but a few days ago he got drunk and put a knife to Tag's throat." Her hands go back to gripping her arms, but this time it does not look like a bid for warmth. "Aaaaand then I kind of...burned his lungs with poison gas by accident. So I think he might have it out for me, and I don't want to be around when he's feeling well enough to do something about it." "That's why my freelancing involves working from home." Tian-shin's description of working conditions puts another shudder in Dusk's wings -- /he/ rolls them, too, like this thought is also cramping him. "I don't really have an excuse for my smoking. Everyone else was doing it." His brows pull together at Tian-shin's laugh, at the grip of her hands around her arms. His wing stretches out towards her -- not /actually/ wrapping around her shoulders but clearly offering. "... A -- knife, shit. That doesn't sound --" One thumbclaw scratches briefly at his head. "Do you think he'd try something again?" "I really need to find more /independent/ freelance work." Tian-shin glances at the clock over the stove and pours the pale gold tea out into the prepared mugs. "When I have the headspace for it." She looks at the outstretched wing, reaches out a hand to touch it hesitantly, and turns into the vast curve of it like someone stepping into a coat. "Yes, and I believe he'll be a lot more dangerous when he's sober and had time to make a plan. Ah...your tea." This last while holding out one of the mugs. "I can see how 'crazy brother maybe trying to kill you' isn't the most conducive to making new career paths." Dusk winces faintly, his wing curling around her; to the touch it's warm, suede-soft and tougher than the flexible-thin membrane might seem. "I guess that means you need to take this time to make a plan too, then. Because getting throats cut open sounds like a bad one." Tian-shin chuckles humorlessly. "But I do need a better plan than 'avoid him and hope he gets over it'." For a moment she seems distracted enough--whether by thinking about her brother or the novelty of the wing-hug--to forgets how little clothing Dusk has on. A sudden blush heralds her recall of this, and she covers it up quickly by not-quite-sipping at still-too-hot tea. "Honestly, I can /probably/ take him if he comes after me with a knife, alone. I'm more worried about him getting hold of a gun, or some of his...buddies." Even with both hands wrapped around her mug, the air quotes around the last word comes through in her tone. Dusk's wing rubs slow and gentle against Tian-shin's back. "Knife -- gun -- buddies -- staying somewhere with a good security system and plenty of people around who'll give a shit what's going on with you seems like a better and better idea. I mean, /escalating/ violence doesn't tend to lead anywhere productive but just making it not worth their time? And like, Christ, there's enough people around here who -- would not make it go well for someone looking to cause trouble." "Mom /cares/ about me, but she also thinks little brother's the golden boy who can do no wrong." Tian-shin leans back into the wing, relaxing again. "Yeah, I'll talk to Tag and Joshua...about moving here. Joshua's...kind of mentoring me. In the Way of the Mutant. /I/ wouldn't mess with him..." Her grin is lopsided but genuine, eyes darting from the talons on Dusk's wing to his fangs. "...or you, for that matter." "Ohhh. Hah. He's got a lot of practice at that. I don't know how many powers he's filtered through that crazyass mind by now." The shake of Dusk's head is kind of impressed. "You think you could get me a picture? Of your brother, I mean. I can make sure the system gives us alerts if he shows up on the grounds. There's -- a lot of people around here you wouldn't want to fuck with and most of them get pinged by the security system." For a moment his cheeks colour, head shaking as he lifts his tea to finally take a sip. "-- If you want, I mean. I don't want to overstep or anything. Just -- kind of used around here to. People with all sorts of concerns. And I /run/ the security system on the grounds. So this isn't exactly out of left-field for me. Just -- tell me to back the hell off if I'm pushy, yeah? I'm not trying to imply you can't handle your own shit." "Your security system is sophisticated! Facial recognition--is it reliable?" Tian-shin actually sips from her tea now, the surface having grown cool enough to drink. "Seriously, though, I'd appreciate it, and I have a whole Facebook of pictures if it'll help. Even if not for my sake or Tag's, it's still wise to have precautions in case he does show up again. There are a lot of mutants here, and Tian-yi might just be stupid enough to start something." Her smile goes a touch rueful. "I'm not exactly a shrinking violet, but I've been in over my head this past week. Thank you." "It's pretty damn good, yeah. Facial recognition tied in with a few other things -- gait patterning, it cues in on clothing. It can tell us with a fair amount of accuracy if there's a zombie on the grounds --" Dusk's grin flashes bright again. "-- Or a cop." The next sip of his tea is slower. "It's right there in the name. We called ourselves Harbor for a /reason/. -- I really should make you that key." Tian-shin's eyebrows lift. "Color me impressed. I'll send you some photos." She starts to drink from her tea, again, then adds, "...of my brother." The awkward clarification comes with more blushing, but this time at least she seems more amused than actually embarrassed. "If you're going to make me a key, maybe you could give me a tour, too? Unless you have things to get back to--like your supper." This last with a nod at the spring rolls. The clarification just makes Dusk's grin brighter. His eyebrows lift. Juuust a little. "Fantastic." He straightens, wing still slung around her, though more casually now. He picks up the box of spring rolls in the other hand, tea still in one. "Dinner can come with. C'mon. I'll show you around."