ArchivedLogs:Laundry Day

Laundry Day
Dramatis Personae Doug, Dusk, Gabriel
In Absentia	2013-08-18 Laundry Is Coming.
Location <NYC> Village Lofts - Laundry Room
This laundry room looks as many laundry rooms do. Fluorescent lights a little too-bright, linoleum floor is chipping, lint-dusty and occasionally stained sticky with spilled detergent. A broom and dustpan in one corner encourage its users to contribute to its cleanliness, which they do with intermittent conscientiousness. A bank of quarter-fed washing machines along the wall have clear windows on their doors to watch the laundry spin and turn within. On the wall opposite, a matching row of dryers near-perpetually has at least one out of commission. A rickety folding table and chairs at one side provide a place to sit and wait. There's a dispenser on the wall that will provide single-use sized packets of detergent or fabric softener, but it is hit or miss whether it is ever in stock. The smell of warm, dry clothes fills the room, on this late Sunday afternoon. Gabriel is currently folding clothes on the folding table, slowly and persistantly, in some form of rhythm and speed. He is wearing a black t-shirt, blue jeans, and tennis shoes, as his jacket is currently in the folded basket. He grabs a small shirt, folding it, tossing it into the basket. Laundry happens for everyone, at some point, and today is also Doug's turn. The blonde appears in the doorway to the laundry room, a laundry basket held in front of him with a bottle of detergent and a tablet computer sitting on top of the pile of clothes. Doug looks dressed for laundry duty in a pair of grey sweat shorts and a loose tank-top in a light blue color, and a pair of flip-flops. He's whistling as he enters; a bright little tune that doesn't seem to follow any known melody. At the sight of Gabriel folding, he pauses a moment, then moves on to drop his basket next to the washers. "Hey," he says brightly, digging in the basket to come up with a jingly cloth bag. "Gabriel, right?" Fold, fold, stop. As Doug walks in, Gabriel's routine just, stops. He looks over to Doug, nodding. "..Doug, yes?". He smiles, getting back into his routine. "I guess I'm not the only one doing laundry today it'd seem.". He laughs a slight bit, before asking a question. "I know you said you wouldn't out any of the mutants, but, couldn't have you warned me of the sharks?". His smile grows, as he gets back into the folding. "How you doing today?". "A necessary evil," Doug says with a shrug, fishing out quarters and putting them into the machine. Then he's grabbing up handfuls of clothing and shoving it in. The accusation gets a laugh, and he lifts a shoulder. "Hey, no one warned /me/," he says. "So I figure fair's fair. They're not too bad, once you get to know them." Pouring in a healthy amount of detergent, he grins widely at the question. "I am finer than fine," he says. "Everything is working within optimal parameters." Closing the lid, he punches the button to start the cycle. "How about you? Settling in all right?" The door opens again, pushed open by one shoulder as Dusk lugs in a blue mesh pop-up hamper, heaped with clothes in a way that suggests he has put off laundry day for a /bit/ too long. He is dressed, also, in laundry-day slouch: loose black sweatpants hanging low on his hips, fraying at the bottom where they trail down over his flip-flops, and a loose white undershirt, modified in the back to allow for the /massive/ pair of very dark bat-wings that are currently folded in against his shoulders. He moves slowly, as he shuffles inside, his dark eyes a little bleary-sleepy, his face pale enough to look kind of sickly-unhealthy; it contrasts sharply with his dark-dark scruff of beard, dark-dark mop of loose-curling hair. He freezes by the door, eyes opening a little wider to dart between Doug and Gabriel, head cocking slightly to the side and his gaze lingering on the unfamiliar man. "Hey, Doug." His tone is warm and easy, if a little bit guarded when he continues to Gabriel: "Hey. Haven't seen you around before --?" His wings press in closer to his back, though given their immense size this does exactly nothing to /hide/ them, their top claws still spiking high up over his shoulders. Fold fold stop, once again. This time, Dusk enters, with those massive wings of his. Gabriel instantly notices them, but does nothing, just smiling. "I don't think I've seen you here either, but, it seems you're not new like me. I'm Gabriel, just moved in, third floor.". He holds three fingers up, then puts them back down. He quickly returns to folding, still smiling, as he speaks. "Nice wings.". He looks back down, halfway done with his folding, apparently having washed every outfit in his closet or something. He then turns to Doug, to finish the conversation. "Parameters? Heh. Well, I'm settling in all right, a few minor setbacks, nothing much.". "Hey, Dusk!" Doug's grin is bright for the bat-winged mutant, and he offers a wave. "Looks like everyone is guilty of procrastinating this week." He drops into one of the chairs, grabbing up his tablet and swiping at the screen. He watches the interchange between the two men, smiling softly to himself. "He's new," he offers helpfully to Dusk, then wrinkles his nose at Gabriel's comments. "What kind of setbacks?" he asks, tipping his head. "Third floor is a good floor," he says, bobbing his head. "I guess that's where you ran into the twins?" "They do me pretty well." Dusk's smile eases, at that, with a small glint of sharp fangs. His wings ease, too, relaxing slightly away from his shoulders as he moves to claim a machine of his own. "Third floor's alright. Fourth flor is where it's /at/, though. -- Setbacks? What kinda setbacks?" His smile sharpens wider at the mention of the twins. "Oh-ho, you've met them already? They're pretty great, aren't they?" He slots his quarters into the machine first, then pours detergent int it before loading in his clothes. Overloading, probably, but he only has /so/ many quarters; he needs to make them /stretch/. "I have been procrastinating way too much. How's the rest of your week been? -- Uhm -- nah, I'm not new. I'm Dusk. Fourth floor. /Best/ floor." Gabriel's own smile widens at the sight of Dusk's fangs. "I beg to differ, I mean, third is where the best pastries are.". His smile dims at the 'setbacks' question. He lifts his hands up, as he scratches his chin. His hands are slightly bruised, slowly healing, a few weeks old. "Well...my sister got injured, I can't find roommates, that's pretty much it. I didn't mean much at the setbacks question.". He turns to them, smiling again. "I met with the...more colorful one on the roof, and then I met the other one who insisted on apologizing for the first one right outside my apartment. All's good, though.". "You're both wrong," Doug says mildly from his chair. "Because /five/ is clearly the best floor, because it has all the brainy blondes." He glances up, and wrinkles his nose. "Although, the pastry on three /is/ pretty awesome." His gaze falls back to the tablet screen, and he makes a sympathetic noise. "That's too bad about your sister," he says, glancing up. "I hope it wasn't too bad." Then he lifts a shoulder. "Finding roommates is a tricky buisness,' he says. "Even if you don't have a bunch of practical jokers living right downstairs." He gives Dusk a mock-glare, and winks. "I'm /still/ looking." The description of the twins gets a bark of laughter. "Yeah, Shane's kind of a jerk," he confirms. "But he's a good guy." "Third floor /does/ have excellent pastries," Dusk concedes. His eyes flick to Doug, and there's a bit of a twitch to his lips that does not fully resolve into a smile. "Fourth had its share of brainy blonde, once." His voice is a little distant, as he finishes loading up his clothes and turns his machine on. "What happened to your sister?" His brows crease. He snorts once, sharply, his head shaking once. "Aw, Shane's alright. Just takes some getting used to. He's been through a lot, but he's actually kind of a sweetheart. His brother, too. They just -- they've --" His lips thin. "They're good kids. Somewhere in there." Doug gets a wider smile, very fangy, this time. "Hey, look. You move into a haunted apartment, you just need roommates with a steely constitution." He winces, scrubbing his hand through his hair. "I guess we kind of need one now, too. "She's..special. Collapsed at that SPIN open-mic night thing while dj-ing. Not really a big deal..not the first time I guess.". Gabriel quickly changes the subject, copying Dusk by also brushing his own hand through his hair. "I need to find a job if I'm going to keep rent up, it seems.". He stretches backwards, as he continues folding, three quarters through his load. "Huh, Shane? So you're sure it's not 'Go Fuck Yourself'?. I would have sworn he told me differently.". Gabriel laughs a small bit. "That's actually how I met the other one. Slightly awkward."." Doug wrinkles his nose at the information about Gabriel's sister, and he looks up from his tablet. "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry to hear that," he says sincerely. "I hope she's feeling better." Then, when the older man changes the subject, he's frowning at Dusk. "Yeah, I guess it did," he says, exhaling heavily. Then he's pressing his lips into a line, and looking back at his tablet. "Hey," he protests the admonishment, and frowns up at Dusk. "...okay, that's a fair point," he concedes, and falls back into his chair, kicking his feet out in front of him. "Oh, that sounds like Shane," he says, when Gabriel recounts their meeting. "When I met him, he threatened to eat my cats." He chuckles, and shrugs. "But yeah, they're generally good guys." "Oh, man, yeah. I hope she's alright." Dusk winces. His hand drops to his side, and he leans back against his machine, palms pressing to its side. His mouth twitches at the mention of Shane. "Yeeeah. Pretty sure that's not what it actually says on his ID. Wouldn't be half surprised if he got it changed some day, though." His brows raise, though, at the change of subject. "Don't have a job? S'rough, man. This city's expensive as hell. What kind of things are you looking in? You're /really/ going to need a roommate, around here." "She's fine, just..too loud for her, I guess.". Gabriel shrugs, as he smiles a bit. "I don't blame him, I was a stranger.". He winces a bit. "Uh..I'm not going to act like I know what you're talking about, so..". He quickly changes back to what Dusk asked. "I had a job, but that job was for my parents and I didn't feel comfortable taking their money. I don't truly have preferences..except stripping. Won't do any of that or anything worse.". He laughs a bit again. "I'm probably going to put up some more ads tomorrow. I really don't want to have to live in Clinton.". "Those open mic night things can get pretty boisterous," Doug agrees, bobbing his head. He wrinkles his nose as Dusk chimes in, and nods grimly. "Yeah, a roommate is a definite bonus," he says. "Although, I don't have the same hang-ups taking money from my folks." His mouth pulls to one side wryly. "Just won't work for them." When Gabriel lists what he /won't/ do, the teenager gives him a cursory glance. "I dunno," he says. "There's good money in stripping, if you're the right type. There's a reason Magic Mike made a bajillion dollars." He wrinkles his nose. "But, if you're wanting something a little more clothed, I can keep my ears open. What are you good at?" "Pfft, I would /totally/ strip. It's just dangerous as /hell/ for mutants. I mean, on the internet it's fine, I guess. It's just such a niche fetish market that in person doing sex work as a mutant you -- just occasionally get some /mega/ creepy --" Dusk shakes his head, his wings quivering for a moment behind himself. "I make decent money anyway though but if I needed the cash, whatever. It's just skin." The smile he quirks at Gabriel is a little crooked. "Though, y'know, moving /before/ finding a job might've been a little backwards on the planning scale, man." "I have a small source of income..". Gabriel says, replying to Dusk. "Yeah, I hear you. The people with that fetish are even creepier than those people who..like anthromorphic animals.". He shakes his head, bad image in it. He turns to Doug. "If I told you what I was good at, I'd have to kill you.". He laughs, though his face shows he may not have been completely joking. "Uh..I can cook, lift heavy objects, warp space, clean..". He speaks this list out super fast, laughing again. "Most of those are true, anyways.". Doug grins at Dusk, and wrinkles his nose. "Oh, yeah," he says. "I bet you /would/ get some creepy types. I remember some of those girls who hung around the building after that shit with the mayor." He shakes his head woefully, and slides his fingers over his tablet, sending it to sleep mode before setting it aside. Gabriel's joke gets a small furrow of his brow, but he offers a hollow-sounding chuckle for it. "Hey, lifting heavy objects is a New York tradition," he says. "If nothing else, you could always try for a pickup construction jo -- warp space?" His brain takes a minute to catch up, it seems, and he blinks. "Oh! Yeah. I don't think you can put that on a resume right now, though." "What's wrong with people who like anthropomorphic animals?" Dusk's brows raise again. "Cooking and lifting heavy things and cleaning are all marketable skills. Warping space -- less marketable. Even if it's pretty useful. Can you really warp space?" His fingers drum against the side of his washer, and he nods at Doug. "There's usually those day-labor places that'll hire folks every morning, they tend to need -- people who can pick up heavy shit." Gabriel takes Dusk's question as an offer to show him, so, he does. He looks outside the doorway, eyes sparking, and notes that there's no one in line of sight. He's looking back, before, lifting his hand in the air, and then his index and middle finger. Suddenly, he's slamming them down, as his body skirts several feet backwards, not really super speed, not really teleportation. He then repeats it, heading straight back to the towels, though, a little bit more tired. He's brushing his brow off, as he heads back to folding. "Construction could work, a bit boring, but could work.". Doug watches the demonstration of Gabriel's power, and his eyes actually light up at the display. "Oh, man," he says, sitting up and leaning forward. "/That/ is freaking amazing. Like mini-tesseracts." He regards the older man studiously, noting his weariness, and wrinkles his nose. "Looks like it takes a lot out of you, though. I guess that's the hazard of having speedy travel powers, huh?" He offers a sympathetic look, although the comments on construction get him grinning again soon enough. "Hey, construction work isn't that boring," he says. "At the very least, you get to be obnoxious to passers-by without repercussion. That's /something/." He winces. "Not /great/, but /something/." "-- Holy crap. That's frakking -- /wow/." Dusk seems to echo Doug's amazement, his eyes widening after the display of Gabriel's powers. "Man, it's a shame you /can't/ market that. Because /wow/. And construction's pretty alright, I think. Gets you an excellent body, at least. Great for picking up -- you know, whoever you're into." He quiets, after this, with a sudden wince and a hand clapped to his temple. His eyes flick up towards the ceiling, narrowing briefly with a soft chuff of breath. "Ngh," he mutters, half to himself. "-- Hey. Gabriel, was it? Floor three? I gotta take care of some shit." He glances at the dial on his machine, and checks the time on his phone. He flashes Doug a quick smile, warm. "See you both soon, m'sure." Cuz, well, he'll have to change his clothes over before too long. Facing Doug, Gabriel grimaces a bit. "And to top it off, I need to eat..about two, three times a normal person, to survive. My body burns energy super quickly. That's why I eat sinful amounts and I'm still thin.". He laughs a bit, smiling. "I do that already, though, a lack of repercussion would be great." He turns to Dusk. "Yeah, there's always the perks. See you around, I guess? Four? I'm on 302, specifically.". He has already finished his folding, without even noticing, as he places it back into the basket. "I should head out too, need to eat. See you around, Doug, Dusk.". Doug wrinkles his nose at Gabriel. "Oh, man, I bet," he says. "Although, there's worse things than being able to eat like a horse and stay skinny." He grins, and lifts a hand as the other two make their good-byes. "You guys take it easy," he says, reclaiming his tablet. "I'll talk to you later. I'll keep an eye on your stuff," he assures Dusk, jerking a thumb at the washers. "So take your time. I got some stuff to work on, anyway." He grins, and holds up the tablet in illustration before he leans back in his chair, already lost in whatever he's working on before the other two are even out of the room.