ArchivedLogs:Kind of Exciting

Kind of Exciting
Dramatis Personae Anette, Billy, Dusk
In Absentia	2014-06-30 Disclaimer: not actually exciting.
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. Billy's father shows little resemblance to the young man whatsoever. Brawny, tough and red-haired, he's all muscle and bulk in weathered jeans and an old, paint-splattered plaid shirt. Buzzing around his lanky blonde son like a mother hen, he settles Billy's books and pack at a small table before finally being convinced to go back to his hotel and get some rest. Billy himself is visibly relieved to have him gone, slouching down some as he receives a tender peck on the forehead from the man on his way out. Queuing up, he fiddles idly with the sling that holds his arm up securely to his chest. Dusk watches this process with a faint twitch of amusement on his pale lips as he slips into Evolve, relaxing once he is in out of the heat. He has a bag strapped across his chest, hanging down around his wings and at his hip. He's dressed in his usual casual -- black cargo shorts, a red-on-darker-red v-neck tee, Vans sneakers with his everpresent boxy black ankle monitor strapped very visibly just above them. Bleach-blonde streaks still lingering in the bangs of his black hair. "... What happened to you?" is all he says in greeting, amusement lingering in his quiet tone though his expression is mostly hidden behind large sunglasses. He settles into line behind Billy, wings flexing and resettling at his back a little awkwardly around the strap of his messenger bag. Anette makes her way into the shop, heading straight for the line. Her typical wear, including her long coat despite the weather. Though if you watch her, you may notice she's not using her right shoulder much. In fact, if she does accidentally move it, she winces. Still, she makes her way to the line, raising an eyebrow as she catches sight of both Billy and Dusk. "Chlorox, Bat Boy. Long time no see...well, one of you anyway," she says, casting a curious glance to Billy. "Is that from the grocery?" she asks, eyes flicking to his arm. She glances to Dusk next, giving him a brief smile. "You're looking...a lot better than the last time I saw you. How are you feeling?" "Hey, oh-" Any warmth that may have washed over Billy's face at seeing Dusk vanishes at the appearance of Anette. "No," he mumbles, turning his eyes towards the ground in silent dread of the woman. "And don't call me that." There is the brief interest in her and Dusk's familiarity but thankfully, it's his turn in line. He struggles to reach into the pocket of his pants with his non-dominant hand, apologizing emphatically to the barista. "How old do I have to be before I graduate to Bat /man/?" Dusk wonders, light and amused. "Hey, don't strain yourself, dude. I'll cover you." His brows hike up at the chill between Billy and Anette, though. "You two know each --" His fingers snap together as if abruptly connecting some missing link: "/High/ school. Right?" His wings shift against his back again, and he slips his phone out from his pocket. "Seriously, though, man, you okay?" His chin tips to the sling, and he glances back up to the menu before answering Anette: "Better than I was. Jax found a healer that pretty much worked miracles. /Has/ been a minute though hasn't it, how've you been?" Anette pulls out her wallet with her left hand and throws down a couple of bills for a coffee. "C'mon, Clorox is a good name. But fine, what do you think about Mr. Clean instead?" she says, taking her coffee. She then turns to Dusk and grins. "Mmm, a few more muscles and I'll consider upgrading you," she teases. "Yes, from school. Same class. And good for you. I was worried about you, you weren't looking so good. I never got the full story about what happened either." "Yeah, I'm okay-" Billy is light-spoken not to slide into the background of Anette and Dusk, though he does manage to gawk all starry-eyed as batboy helps him take care of his coffee. So chivalrous! He doesn't explain how he and Anette know one another and keeps a particularly biting remark about 'being the same class' to himself. He may not have appreciated the 'Mr. Clean' addition. "Full story of what?" He chimes in. Dusk orders a large triple-shot latte for himself, almond milk, shot of almond syrup, together with a chicken soup to go with. He pays for his order and Billy's together with a tap of his phone against a scanner by the cash register, shifting off to the side so Anette can order too. "I think Billy's a pretty excellent name already." One wing rolls in a small shrug. "Haven't run into Anette for a bit. Last time she saw me I was --" His lips press together thinly. "Kind of a monster," has a hint of apology to it, given Billy's discomfort with the word at their last meeting. "Someone had cut off my -- it was hard to think straight. Full story of how I ended up crazy in a fucking attic with stumps of bone where my wings should've been and bloody sockets for eyes, I expect. You know those, uh, Sublime Foundation places that were popping up in winter? Like. Community centers, mutants can go and get help with -- all kinds of shit?" Anette shakes her head. "No, I never heard of them." She sips at her ordered coffee as she listens. "You weren't a monster, you were just...hurt. And hungry. Very hungry. Look, don't worry about it, you weren't yourself and the past is in the past." She looks around to the tables, "So...should we sit someplace?" "Oh, I'm so sorry." How else does one respond to that story? "I uhm," Billy looks towards his stack of books at the table his dad chose for him, "I have a lot to catch up on." He excuses him, though it's likely the invitation wasn't necessarily meant for him. He offers a soft, concerned look to Dusk, nodding, "I'll talk to you later." And to Anette, he raises his eyebrows high into his forehead, flattens his mouth into a thin closed-mouth smile, and simply walks away. Dusk brushes a wing absently against the outside of Billy's arm, glancing around the cafe once his order has arrived and gesturing Anette off to the mostly empty back of the room. He finds a table away from anyone else, setting his soup and drink down and unclipping the strap of his bag to slide it off. Turning a chair around backwards to the table, he drops down into it with one knee tucked up beneath him on the seat and his wings draping down behind. "Really hungry," he agrees with a twitch of lips, "it was -- yeah. Right. OK. The past." His quick smile suggests he's glad enough to leave it there. "You been doing alright this summer?" Anette shrugs and nods. "Besides being shot, it's been alright," she says, taking another sip of her coffee. As alright as summer can be always walking around in a coat, anyway." She gives Dusk a small smile. "I'm glad I ran into you. I really was worried about you. I'm glad that you're doing all right. So what've you been up to since...everything? Staying out of trouble?" Dusk winces at the mention of being shot, biting down briefly on his lip as his brows furrow in concern. "Yeah, thaaat's -- never fun. Crap. You alright?" He follows up this question with an additionally concerned -- if much softer -- "I did run into Billy the other day, he mentioned, um. An almost-stabbing and a classmate of his who'd joined the Brotherhood..." He trails off here, stirring slowly at his soup. His lips twitch up into a faint -- thin -- smile at the mention of trouble, and he uncurls his leg from underneath him, sticking it out from beneath the table so the black electronic monitor around his ankle is visible. "Not -- /quite/ out of trouble." Anette raises an eyebrow as he mentions an 'almost accidental' stabbing. "Did he mention the man was robbing the store and was the one who had just shot me? And he had been pointing his gun to them? It was self-defense. Besides, Chlorox spat a load of bleach in his face, I'm sure that was no picnic for the guy either." She leans back against the chair. "Look, we went to school together and we had a few classes. I...had a few disagreements with the policies. He didn't need to be a telepath to figure out what I might be up to three years later. I didn't just flat out tell him." Her mind is distracted from her current train of thought when Dusk reveals his ankle monitor. "Jesus Dusk, and you're giving me shit. What the hell did you do?" "It's not the robbery that worries me," Dusk says with a shake of his head, hand raising palm-out in a small gesture of surrender. "It's just, Anette, you've been with us like two months, if your random high school classmates already /know/ -- it could mean a world of shit for you. And I don't just mean on the legal side of things -- though fuck knows you probably don't want HAMMER on your ass -- I mean with the other Brothers, too. Just -- be careful, alright?" There's worry clear in his tone. "Looks like you've --" He waves his hand towards Anette. Shooting, and all. "Had enough trouble in your life lately already." He scuffs his fingerst through his hair, shaking his head again as he tucks his leg back beneath himself. "Didn't do shit. Kinda needed some space after -- everything that had happened, you know? I was out in the woods and some fucking hunter /shot/ me. I don't mean like by accident I mean he saw me and flipped his fucking shit because oh god /monster/. Then /I/ got arrested for assaulting /him/ when I fought back." Anette sighs, running her fingers through her hair. "Fine, you're right. I'll...figure it out." She glances down to her shoulder, bandaged beneath her clothes, and chuckles. "Yeah, it's been a little too exciting lately. I could stand to tone things down a bit," she says, looking back up to you. "I appreciate the concern and heads up. Don't worry, I'll be fine." She listens to Dusk's story, a smirk growing on her face. "Huh, same thing happened to me a few months ago. I didn't get the bracelet though. Course, an aquaintance owed me a favor and I had some legal help. And then people wonder why I go apeshit when there's a gun in my face. Because whatever happens, it's the mutants that are going to be screwed over." "Yeah. I mean, I like exciting -- here and there, but /this/ kinda exciting --" Dusk's grin is quick and a little crooked. "S'too much of a good thing, you know?" He leans forward, spooning up a mouthful of soup hungrily. "Jeez. Yeah. It's always such a fucking -- shitshow, right? Like we should just stand there and /let/ them shoot us or else --" His head shakes quickly. "And it's only been /worse/ since all this registration crap." The small smile lingers on his lips as he looks down to his soup, voice too quiet once more to carry past their table. "Though I think Regan's been. Doing a thing or two to help put a wrench in the goddamn Registry." Anette shakes her head, her grip on her coffee tightening with frustation as registation is brought up. "Dear god that registration. Unregistered so far but...I don't know, as much trouble as I get into, that might be one bit of trouble I should try to avoid. Still...I'm probably going to be screwed either way. As much as I love wings...it would be nice if I had a powers I could hide a bit easier." She perks up a bit at the mention of a wrench in the registry. "Oh? Do tell..." "I /was/ unregistered." Dusk's teeth clench faintly at this, a sharp exhale pushed out through his nose. "But they've started registering you involuntarily now if you get arrested. Haven't gotten a card in the mail yet, though, so I'm kind of thinking maybe her --" There's a brief pause, his head turning in a slow stretch -- or maybe looking around the cafe. They're still quite alone in their section of the tables, though, so he just swallows another mouthful of soup before continuing. "I got my hands on a list of, uh. Most of the officials in charge of assigning people numbers. Processing the entries that come through for freaks. I'm thinking it's possible the hold-up in processing times lately has been because a lot of them have been having unfortunate accidents." Anette can't help but grin playfully at 'unfortunate accidents'. "Hmm...maybe I'm not entirely done with excitement in life. It's an interesting plan. Not great, but interesting," she says, following Dusk's caution and lowering her voice a smudge. "Still...glad I was arrested before the registration crap. It least I avoided that trouble." She finishes her coffee, setting the mug to the side of the table. "So how long are you stuck with the ankle bracelet?" "Yeah, I really should've timed the whole thing better," Dusk acknowledges wryly. "Stock up on all my getting shot /before/ they started pinning black triangles on us." He shakes his head, gulping down a few more mouthfuls of soup. "Shit. No idea. Till they chuck me in jail, most likely. Uh. Till my trial's over. However that turns out." Anette grins at Dusk's comment about timing. "Nice going. Can't even get shot properly." Her grin fades as Dusk mentions jail, however. "You've still got the trial coming up? Jeeze, I wish there was a way I could help. Have you got a decent lawyer at least? Or, you know, any hope of getting out of this ok at all?" "Yeah I'm kind of /thoroughly/ a fuckup." Dusk's lopsided grin is easy, but his wry smile fades into just a tired slump of shoulders. "Regan found me a good lawyer but it's -- honestly I don't even know how I'm." His fingers scrub through his hair to leave it in tousled disarray. "I mean, it happened out in the fucking mountains at sunup, you know? There wasn't exactly a ton of /witnesses/ it's pretty much my word against his. We're -- kind of. Looking into getting, uh. /Telepath/ testimony admitted? Someone who can /see/ both our memories and /verify/ who's telling the truth. But that would be such a fucking radical jump for the legal system. Plus bring a fuckton of /shit/ down on the telepath who offered to help. Kinda worried at this point it's the best chance I have, though. Which is -- saying something about my chances." Anette offers a reassuring smile. "All the good people are fuckups, I wouldn't worry too much about it. Though you are in a bit of a sticky situation. Good luck with it, I guess. I'll see what I can do to help but...well, there's not much I can do. Though I'd love to see how using a telepath in court holds out. I doubt it will but, well, it would be nice if the world didn't screw us over for once." She grins and gives a faint shrug, "And if all else fails, break out of prison and list the rest of your life as a fugitive." "It'd be nice," Dusk agrees, just a touch wistful. The last suggestion earns Anette a quick breath of laughter, smile lighting his face once again. "Wouldn't be so bad, huh?" His wings flex briefly behind him. "I'm hardly recognizable at all. Oh man. I could steal a boat off the island, go around /pirating/. There's a lack of good pirates off the New York coast." Anette grins. "As long as you wear an eyepatch and fight with a sword. None of that machine gun crap they do in Somalia. That's cheating. Oooh, can I be your parrot? I'm mostly qualified." She pulls out her phone and checks the time. "Wow, we've been here a while. I've got to get going. It was great seeing you." She stands up and, after grabbing a couple of sugar packets off the table and pocketing them, turns to you and gives you one last smile. "Let me know how it turns out. Good luck with everything." "Have to dye your feathers a little bit brighter, but if I'm wearing an eyepatch you can go Macaw colours." Dusk's wing stretches out, bumping light up against Anette's shoulder as she stands to go. "Thanks. You take care. I'll see you around. Hopefully not too long from now." He lifts his cup to her in salute before leaning down to open up his messenger bag, finally, and slip his laptop out of it to turn his attention to work.