ArchivedLogs:Kicks

Kicks
Dramatis Personae Blink, Dragonlord, Ion
In Absentia	2016-07-03 "Good luck with the -- shit. /Living/."
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Courtyard - Lower East Side
This courtyard is the lush central hub of the surrounding Harbor Commons, bound in on three sides by rows of duplexes and triplexes, cutting upward at the sky with the sharp thrift of a minimalist's style, neat lines and bountiful windows, boldened with accents in wood towards the upper stories, stone towards the base, the whole of the compound sealed in by a low stoneworked wall that opens entrance gates to the streets beyond at its two far corners, smaller gates at building back doors. The fourth side of the courtyard is open to the East River, the ground forming a slight decline, controlled on one side by micro-retaining walls to form wide steps where picnic tables sit beneath the nominative shelter of a trio of dogwood trees, accessible by ramp. The other side is allowed to slope at its natural angle, a wide open yard space, until its cut off at the river's edge, where a massive pair of oak trees stand, a staircase leading away up one of their thick trunks. The yard itself is carpeted in an organic flow of emerald grass swirled through with wending channels of smooth-paved cement walkways, flowing naturally away from the building's front entrances, where some are arced by trellis, some flanked by hosta plants, fern and lilies, a few laid in gentle switch-backing ramps for wheelchair access, before forking off at matching angles to sites of small garden installments. Bird feeders and baths suspended from the necks of small lamp posts, a rock-lined koi pond, a sleek gazebo tucked to one side in simplistic varnished wood, its southern side overgrown with a mass of thriving grapevine and a caged-in barbecue pit under its sheltering roof. A play area and proper garden are within sight off another branch, until finally all paths spiral in like wheel spokes to a shared common house at the center of all traffic flow. It's a breezy night, clear and as dark as Manhattan gets, with no moon in the sky. There are early fireworks going off elsewhere in the neighborhood and farther out in the city but here it's pretty quiet, even with people lingering about the common house after dinner. Blink is perched on the back of one of the benches bare feet on the seat, dressed in a white babydoll shirt completely covered with a lavender feather pattern and a gauzy layered magenta skirt, her black-and-pink hair coming loose from a thick, messy fishtail braid. She cups a blob of hazy purple light between her hands. It bends and inverts images that pass through it, like a crystal ball. There's a humming overhead, a blue-white glow; no moon in the sky but there's a light all the same. A motorcycle, outlined in glowing lights, descending from overhead to hover for a moment nearby the bench and then thump down to the ground. Atop it, Ion is in jeans, boots, singed- and weatherbeaten- MMMC kutte over top of a plain white tee. The sidecar on his bike contains -- a lot of strappy harness, wing, claws; huge bulging eyes and floppy-ears and horned head poking over one side. "/Witch-girl/." Ion's whoop is ecstatic even before he's killed the engine properly. "What magic you doing now?" Blink looks up at the bike's approach, eyes so wide that slender crescent of white actually show around her huge green irises. "Whoa, sweet ride!" Once her surprise has faded a little she breaks into a delighted smile. Looking at the ball of purple between her hands, she shrugs. "It's actually the same magic as before, just this one isn't open yet. You're Ion, right? And His Royal Majesty, the Dragonlord." She gets up and offers the creature in the sidecar a curtsy. "Where's your magic opening off /to/? -- Yeah! That's us." Ion's grin is bright and broad. The humming of his bike stops as he straightens up, hands lifting from the handlebars. "Dragonlord wanted to go flying so I think maybe we come down, find some other gargoyles." In the sidecar, the Gremlin is wriggling in their harness, clicking quiet and rapid. 'Fly fly,' they echo. 'Up up up.' "Yeah maybe soon again up. You want to say hi? You remember our magic friend right?" Ion's fingers flick towards Blink. Egg's head bobs along eagerly. 'Magic,' they agree. Blink inverts one hand over the other, and the purple light grows stronger between them. "Nowhere, just yet. I can open it to...well, anywhere that's not too far, really." She walks to the end of the bench closest to the parked bike and palms the purple light in one hand to wave at Egg with the other. "Can you fly on your own, Milord?" 'Yes! Fly!" Egg is wriggling further in their harness. Ion leans over, unstrapping them to free up their limbs. "Working on it," Ion replies with a laugh. "But the car that's next to good enough yeah?" He hops down off his bike, leaning up against it. "You friends with these freaks then?" A hand waves vaguely around the Commons' grounds. "Should have /guessed/, who ain't, right?" Blink nods. "They're cool people, real welcoming. Thinking about applying here myself, if I can find a roommate." She hops off of the bench and walks up to Ion and Egg, studying the child more closely now. "Is he related to Isra?" "Yeah they good people." This agreement comes easily. "Yeah-yeah-yeah Isra and Dusk hatched this monsterling." Egg's ears perk up at these names; they sit a little higher in the boosterseat in their sidecar. Ion's brows pull inward, slightly, as he studies Blink. "You need a roommate? Where you staying right now? You /got/ a place, I hope?" "Are you his...uncle, brother, dad? Sorry if I'm prying too much." Blink ducks her head a bit, sheepish. "I'd need one to afford a place here, yeah. Or anywhere decent, unless I find a third job real fast. But I still have a roof over my head. Not getting kicked out until month's end, though I wouldn't put it past my landlord to try to get me out sooner." "Eh? Oh. Oh Dragonlord's /my/ kid. Me and..." Ion trails off here, though, head shaking. "Roof, good. You got work? Need work? My Mongrels, we usually got jobs need doing -- and I always I can scrounge up a bed, you end up needing. This place looks spendy as fuck, all these fancy-ass -- treehouse." Egg, meanwhile, is clambering up the side of their sidecar. Wings flexing outward, stretching, pulling in, stretching again. Blink doesn't look at all surprised by the answer, only nods. "Mongrels? Oh, your club." She answers her own question as soon as it's out, reading it off of his kutte. "I got jobs, two different courier gigs. But thanks for the offer, both of work and bed, I really appreciate it. Hopefully I won't need to take you up on it, but in case I do...can I get your number? Or email or kik or whatever you use?" "Kick? How's kicking gonnna help?" Ion just blinks at this, kind of puzzled. He looks away from Blink to Egg -- briefly, at least, as they spread their wings again, launching off the edge of the sidecar. Flapping enthusiastically but with little coordination; it doesn't do them much good as they go thudding to the ground. Neither Ion nor Egg seems very much perturbed by this outcome. "Maybe I give you my homegirl B number, she poke on me, huh? I, uh -- I don't do good with having the phones really. Fry them dead." Blink gasps when Egg falls, and the purple light in her hand flares brighter for an instant, though it ultimately stays there. "Is he alright?" She stoops down next to the child. Her green irises are practically swallowed up by the black of her pupils, to somewhat disturbing effect. "That's...practicing, I guess." Looking back up at Ion, she nods. "Oh, if you don't think /she'd/ mind. But really, I'm sure I could just ask around at any gamenight and someone will know where to find you." "Babies is basically made out of rubber they fine." Egg's clicking grows more rapid as the light flares brighter, their eyes squinting nearly shut. Ion skirts around the bike, crouching down to scoop the child up off the ground into his arms. "Gotta learn somehow. And B she ain't gonna mind. You can write a number down?" He waits a short while before rattling it off. "-- you come in the game things? Sometimes I there anyway. Or on Friday nights at the safehouse. By Evolve, yeah?" He settles Egg on his hip, his kutte growing new dimples as the baby curls talons into the leather to cling on. "You seen any the gargoyle around? They -- maybe help learn /better/." Blinks cups both her hands around the ball of light, so that it only glows dimly through the seams between her fingers. "Oh, good. I guess babies fall all the time trying to /walk/, but it's just not as /far/ to fall." She leans back on the bench again. "I don't come every week, but whenever I'm free, yeah. I haven't seen Dusk, but Isra was around at least about an hour ago." She indicates Geekhaus with a tip of her head. "Good luck with the flying, Milord." Egg's taloned hands are flapping very enthusiastically again -- maybe waving goodbye, maybe just eagerly signing 'Fly' once more. "Good luck with the -- shit. /Living/." Ion's teeth have a faint glow to them in the light that leaks through Blink's cupped fingers, before he turns to trot off towards Geekhaus. "{See you.}"