ArchivedLogs:Later Bagels - the Backlash Aftermath

Later Bagels - the Backlash Aftermath
Dramatis Personae Melinda, Shelby
In Absentia	2013-01-13 After the bagel incident, the fleeing party pause to discuss the state of things
Location <NYC> Central Park North
Central Park North is slightly quieter than its southern counterpart, being further uptown and slightly out of the bustle of the City - insofar as one can escape the bustle of the City even here, in the acres of green and blue that make up Central Park. The reservoir is in the northern half, providing miles of jogging and biking trails along the clear water, as well as benches for people to sit and rest. It's clear Shelby has had plenty of experience with running away. With Melinda covering the rear, the teen takes off down the sidewalk at a dead run. She slows a quarter of a block up to turn and wait for Melinda to follow--when she sees that the young woman is doing so, she cuts across the street and voila, they're off into central park. Foot traffic is sparser here and the lamps that line the paths create as many shadows as they do pools of light. Shelby properly waits for Melinda in one of those pools, shaking her hand off--some cocoa has spilled onto it during her run. "Crazy ass old lady...that was nuts." Melinda has nothing really to say. She moves to a near by trash can and lets her hand hover over it, ready to drop her cocoa in, but pauses and looks to Shelby instead. She moves to a park bench and takes a seat. "I'm sorry about all of that." She scowls and leaves the cup closer to where Shelby can sit, looking up at her. "Feel as though we've robbed the place though. I mean - well, not like we went in there to rob them, but walking out, they've made us into..." Frustrated, she shakes her head. "Fuck that, he gave it to us, fair and square," Shelby grumps as she drops onto the bench. "I'm not gonna feel bad about it. Couple of assholes like that? They deserve whatever they get. I hope no one who saw that goes back. Jerks." She huffs once and slumps down, head lowered over the cup she's still holding onto. It's only after a moment that she steals a look at Melinda from the corner of her eyes. "Did she get you with the broom? Y'know, we could totally call the health department on them." "No, she missed, probably on purpose. Can you imagine the scandal though? Crack pot woman and shell shocked vet attack patrons under suspicion of mutants?" Melinda shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "For fuck's sake. They just picked some people at random to blame and didn't bother asking questions. If they did attack, it'd probably make the news and they'd lose the shop. I know I'm not going back there until I see a 'Under New Management' sign." Melinda slides her cup closer to Shelby, offering it to her. The offer is taken and Shelby holds both cups, sipping from one, sipping from the other, without apparent thought to why Melinda might have given it up--or what Melinda might now enjoy, being cocoa-less. "Mph, yeah, well, it'd be our luck the papers'd think they were right. Or whatever. I mean..." She trails off at that and looks down at the slushy ground, toeing over a clump of half-melted ice. "Whatever. Kinda crazy. The past couple of days. I'm...sorry I got you into it. Last night. And today too." "Some day, hun, you should probably learn the value of just being quiet," Melinda notes without reproach. She just leans back and lets out a sigh. "It's not your fault though. Nervousness sometimes adds volume to a person's voice. It happens." She sighs and wraps her arms over her chest. "They might believe it, but papers also enjoy a good scandal. Fear sells. If the general population fears backlash from people that just start storming around because they /suspect/ mutants, maybe they'd still avoid the store." She shakes her head. "Anyway, the speculation isn't worth it. We're unharmed and not going back." "He had a -gun-." It's a mumbled bit of defense that defies the apology Shelby has just given. But she doesn't continue on that line, just kicks her feet out again to disturb the slush and sips from her cocoas. After the sip, and after licking some whipped cream from her upper lip, she says without much enthusiasm, "I guess. I hope the next time they pull that shit, it's someone who can bite them or something." There's a brief pause. "You think...it's my fault if that guy dies? I mean, I didn't make the guy have a gun. Or anything. But if he dies..." "Which means he was scared as fuck," Melinda points out, a little shrug following. "And no. It's not your fault. It wouldn't be your fault at all. Don't beat yourself up." She inhales deeply and studies Shelby. "The world is full of unfortunate situations like that." She glances at the bag of food and frowns. "Do you want to go somewhere else and get something to eat, save the rest of that for later?" The concept of wielding a gun and being -scared- hadn't even occurred to Shelby, as can be seen in the startled glance and furrowed brow. "I guess," she says slowly. "Maybe what's his name knows if he's okay. Blue hair. Sparkles. Jax. I gotta go by his shop sometime, maybe I'll ask." It's a thought that makes her feel better, leaving her to toe up and straighten her seat on the bench. "Nah, it's okay. Here, you want one?" She digs in her pocket to produce one of the snatched pepperoni bagels and offers it over. "What was the other dude's name? The one in line with me?" Melinda inhales and stares at the food. Finally, she reaches out and takes the piece, fingers picking at it instead of stuffing it in her mouth. "Hm? What about him?" she asks, peeling off one of the bits of pepperoni that got sliced when the bagel was cut. She nibbles on it. "He stuck around with me for the most part, through the police questioning... and then dinner. I don't think he knows anything." Shelby sifts through her pocket again to produce a second bagel. A bit of lint is picked off of the side before she begins eating. "I was just wondering," she says, all casual-like. "He seemed pretty cool. You know? Before all that shit happened. He said he maybe knew a pawn shop that had instruments, right?" La la la, she looks up at the bare trees overhead while she makes inroads on the bagel. "Did the cops give you a hard time?" She pauses. "Did you tell 'em about me?" "Well, I didn't exactly tell them about you. You were just a 'someone' who happened to startle the gunman. No names, no description. Just the facts that were pertinent. The cops aren't going to follow up on that." She starts pulling at the cheese, eating it little pinches at a time. "Well, it's not that hard to check pawn shops. Look, I'm sure we can find you a guitar to play. If I see him, I'll ask him, but he was friends with Jax, so you could probably ask him to relay the message too." Shelby's cheeks puff out as she breathes her relief. Gustily. "You're fucking -awesome-. Seriously. Thanks for that. Cops are the -worst- for giving you a hard time, huh?" Her gratitude is short-lived but she remains perked up, mood improving with both the food and the conversation. "That'd be great too," she mumbles through a mouthful. "If you see'm first y'can tell 'im m'name 'n stuff, yeah? Maybe how cool I am?" How quickly the young recover--her eyes are twinkling as she looks over at Miranda. "Yeah, well, I've done enough work volunteering to just be done with how the cops just..." Melinda leaves the thought to hang in the air, head shaking. She finally takes a bite of the bagel, chewing slowly. "Why? Did you think he was hot, or is this really about a guitar?" She smiles tiredly and shakes her head. "He wasn't terrible on the eyes, eh?" "Just roll in like "Oh I am so awesome and don't you look funny at me or I'll put your cheek on this car and -bam- fuck you I got a badge!'?" Shelby's just trying to be helpful, filling in that blank. She tongues her current bite into her cheek to smile at Melinda without horrifying her. "He was -supremely- hot." Got it in one. "You don't think he was really pissed at me about freaking out, do you? Shit. He probably thinks I'm some stupid girl," she muses, the bridge of her nose wrinkling. Another bite is taken. "...gotta fix that. How's your boyfriend?" "Oh, he was so stressed during the incident, I'm not fully sure that he really took in all of the surroundings. If he noticed, it probably wasn't really the biggest deal." Melinda takes another bite and chews thoughtfully. "but I don't know. Maybe. Don't worry about it too much. I mean, there are lots of really attractive people in New York City that will be interested, even if he isn't." Boyfriend? Did Shelby ask about him? Ha. Melinda says nothing. "Yeah?" Shelby joins in with the thoughtful chewing effort and doesn't speak again until half of the bagel is finished. "I guess so. It's kind of dumb anyway, isn't it? Like I got time. That's gotta be pretty hard on a relationship, being so busy." Melinda is given a meaningful look. Behind it, there is unvoiced laughter--she's having fun with the teasing and ignoring all of the signs to stop. "Maybe after I start rakin' in the monies...how come you work dishing out food, anyway? Like, okay, the My Little Pony guy, you can tell he's into that whole scene with the down with the man stuff. But you...I dunno. You're pretty clean. And Lucien's like whoa no thank you." "Wait... What about Lucien?" Melinda's brow furrows, confused. She digs some fingers through her hair by her ponytail to scratch an itch as she finishes off her bit of bagel. "I do it because it's necessary. It's the right thing to do. This whole place is pretty messed up and the more messed up I learn it is, the more I have to help." She licks her fingers clean quietly, wiping the excess moisture off her skin afterwards on the edge of her coat. "I really never know why it's so weird to people that I do this. It makes sense to me." "Lucien's not into helping out," Shelby explains, her tone reasonable. "I like, asked him. He's all, fuck no, gimme the money." Worst of all, the teen sounds admiring of this attitude, exaggerated though it must be. As for Melinda's quandary, the girl can only shrug as to why that's a common reaction. "Maybe 'cause most folks don't really care? I mean, you saw that shit back in the bagel place. You ever watch the stuff people do to folks with their hand out? I get assholes spitting in my case more than they put money in it. I mean, when I -had- a case." "Yeah, I've seen it." Melinda ponders this and tugs her coat a little closer, the cold seeping in the longer they are still. "What I've seen just makes me want to help more. I guess I'm a strange breed, made up of different stuff from a lot of humanity. I get the idea that it's hard to care and it certainly hasn't been /safe/ to care, but I still care. Just... can't not." She falls silent. Shelby has the advantages of many layers. And two cups of hot cocoa, the last of which is picked up to be finished off now that she's done with the bagel. "Too bad mutants aren't all like -you-, huh? Bet we'd...they'd get a lot more love then." Her gaze darts left and right. And then, in indomitable Shelby form, she adds, "I hope life doesn't fuck you over too hardcore 'cause you're soft for people. That'd really fucking suck." "Ha. I think there are mutants like me. Besides, who said I wasn't one. My super power just happens to be giving a shit about people." Melinda doesn't seem to much give a crap about the fact that she's getting cold. Her nose and cheeks begin to pinken though. "Thanks. I hope so too. I appreciate your concern, but life... kind of just fucks people over. My biggest hope is that when the inevitable happens, there'll be people good enough to help me." "Are you one?" Sure, sure, Melinda's made the crack about giving a shit. But Shelby's looking at her squarely now, blunt and interested. "I have never been genetically tested, but I also have no superhuman abilities to speak of," Melinda replies pleasantly. "If I were to guess, I'd say no, but who knows what my actual genes say." "Huh." Just that, at first. Shelby settles back against the bench and tilts her face skywards again. "If you wanted to know, I know someone who could tell you. If you wanted, I mean. He does all that shit. With the blood and the DNA. He's pretty cool." She pauses, then is struck with an immense gap-toothed grin. "And kinda like you too. I figured he was just weird but he gets off on caring too." "Er. I don't 'get off' on caring. It kind of terrifies me." Melinda shakes her head and rubs her fingers at her chin. "No, I don't need to check. Yeah, it might help to raise awareness to have many people classified genetically similar - but it'd also be a pain in the ass if there started to be mandatory testing. No, I think I'll leave it to the unknown rather than have it confirmed that I'm not one." "It was a joke, duh." But Shelby reins in the grin a notch or two--not enough to withdraw the misstep but at least trying to avoid further ones. "But sure, whatever. I probably wouldn't either if I didn't already know." This time it's she who goes silent, afterward. Another push of her foot through the slush pile, and paving stone is left clear and wet in the lamplight. "Anyway," she finally says, sitting up straight, "I should probably get going before he freaks out or anything. You want some of these bagels?" "Freaks out?" Melinda blinks and looks over at Shelby. "Who? Lucien?" She considers this and stands up. "No, I'm good. Enjoy the bagels." She brushes at her coat and smiles at the teen. "And have a good night. I'll see you around, right? Call me again some time." "Nah, the doc. He's letting me crash on his couch. No funny business though, he likes the dudes." Shelby pops to her feet and sweeps up the bag. For a moment it seems she might leave the empty cocoa cups behind but after a glance at the other woman, she picks those up too, to deposit into a waste bin. "I totally will! You're cool beans with me. Maybe next time no one'll try to kill us or anything," she says, making another joke of it. "Oh fuck, don't say things like that. Now you're pretty much promised that we're going to have another episode before it's over." Melinda shakes her head. "They say bad things come in threes. We're stuck. No hope now." Doom saturates her tones, dry and deep, but she nods her goodbyes as she backs away. "There's no point avoiding me though. I don't actually want to wait for that other shoe to drop. Maybe we should meet in a day or two. Get it over with." Shelby lets loose with a peal of laughter. "-Fuck-. I see how it really is, why you wanna hang out. You're like one of those...what'sit. Adrenaline junkies. Right, sure. We could go check out the pawn shops for banjos. I'll call ya." That seems safe enough, right? Still grinning, she withdraws with the bag o' bagels tucked in the crook of her arm, held as carefully as any baby. Melinda waves a had and smiles a little, turning and walking away. "Until then, Shelby. Be well."