ArchivedLogs:Mutants on a Train

Mutants on a Train
Dramatis Personae Marinov, Paige	2017-10-17 "She's not my- You can't- I'm not- Hf."
Location NYC <Subway>
Long, gray, and very tubular, there is very little to distinguish one subway car from another in New York City, aside from their serial numbers (if you care to stare at them long enough to commit it to memory). Seats line the walls and poles divide up the spaces between, allowing passengers to hold on during their speedy journey through the tunnels under the earth. There are ads on the walls to break up the monotony of gray and glass, political and commercial pops of color to distract the eye, allowing people something other than people to study while they ride. While the underground gives little indication of the time of day, it's early evening, and there are many passengers on the train who have either just completed a day of work, or who are just trying to get to their favourite haunts. Marinov is currently on such a train ride, trying to remain compact and out of the way of any of the other passengers. "It's always so claustrophobic in here," says the felinoid teen to their companion quietly, "I swear, if I could outrun the subways, I'd do that every time..." If someone could be said to be having a wonderful time on the subway, that person would not be Paige. Her stance appears quite uncomfortable as she shifts regularly on her hooves with limited space in order to maintain her balance as the train rumbles along the tracks. "Yeah," comes her simple response as she tries to bend and duck out of the way of a suddenly-moving elbow, ears pressing down. "It's just. Not. Good." The horned mutant braces herself as the train screeches to a shuddering halt at the next station. The garbled voice of the train conductor comes through as the doors open. Being as she is close to the doors herself, Paige steps out to let others off the train before getting back on herself. With slightly more room. And then more passengers join. Marinov chuckles softly and says, "We're kind of on it at a busy time, I guess. Peak hours are real bad!" They shake their head and hold on tight to the pole. They gesture down and ask, "How are your feet doing? I don't think it's really built with... well, people who don't wear shoes in mind, I guess." Their tail flicks just slightly behind them as they make a conscious effort to kind of keep it out of anyone's way. They say a bit louder, to make prying eyes more uncomfortable: "Though the staring is the worst." As the train starts moving again, Paige, now squished once more, clings almost desperately to a pole to stop herself from toppling about. She grimaces at the mention of staring, though she appears too embarrassed to look about for any gazers. "Yeah. It's not great. Like goats are supposed to have four legs, right? I only have two. I'm not very well-designed. I think I'd like to have a word with whoever --" The train starts slowing down a bit unexpectedly, the lights flickering for a moment, before speeding up again. "-- whoever design me, you know?" Meanwhile, Marinov's tail-avoidant efforts go unnoticed by the occupants of the train car. Some passengers near the mutant's back are beginning to look a little disgruntled, but not as much as a man sitting nearby in one of the seats. He is clearly watching the pair of mutants and is beginning to get a little red-faced. "I can run on all fours, you know. If I want to. And I don't because that'd get my hands real fucking dirty," says Marinov, looking up towards their hands. "But yeah, I'd probably have some notes for whoever designed me too. 'Make me better at eating candy!' Yeah!" They make a small fist pump with kind of mock-enthusiasm. Their ears swivel about at the unexpected shudder of the train. "You seem a lot more sure-footed than we first met, at least." Paige's ears twitch upwards, though remain pressed down, as she chuckles softly at Marinov's joke. "Heh. Yeah." A somewhat jealous eye is given towards the felinoid's tail. "Better, sure, but I almost half-want a tail to keep things even more, you know, steady." She glances briefly down to her hooves. "I don't know, there'd be a few things I'd change,” the goat girl remarks with a small shrug of the shoulders. The previous train shudder provoked some passengers to shift their stances. This has put one young woman's chest quite close to the ocelot mutant's swisher. As Marinov's flick-switch taps against her, likely unintentionally, she grows a bit agitated as it /keeps/ happening. "Hey, could you /move/ that thing out of the /way/, please?" The white woman's tone is one of entitlement and slight snarkiness, though she is clearly making an attempt to be 'polite'. "Whoa," says Marinov to the woman, sounding apologetic, "Prosti, yeah, it's a little cramped in here... didn't mean to..." They wrap their tail loosely against their leg, and then close their leg against it to press it in place. "You actually want one of these things? They're sorta more trouble than they're worth..." They glance around, "I think probably everyone has some stuff they'd change about themselves if they had the opportunity." Offering a sheepish grin, the other mutant shrugs again. "I mean, goat tails are --" Paige cuts herself off as she makes a face. The face is due to a man a few people thick trying to adjust his arm as he holds onto the pole above her head. His arm that keeps bumping into her horns. "-- a -- a little different, right?" She tries to duck her head away, though not to much success. "Like not so long. Or swishy?" "/Thank/ you," the human woman responds ever so kindly with a just a subtle flavor of sarcasm. "Gosh." This is muttered under her breath as she rolls her eyes. Another nearby patron catches her eye and offers a sympathetic shrug. Oh, those mutants, so rude and in the way all the time. Always. /Existing/. Like some sort of. /People/. The red-faced man continues to just /glare/ at Marinov and Paige, not paying any mind to the book open in his lap. Nope. None at all. Paige's reaction to the other woman's antics is a concerned, confused, and exasperated expression. /Really?/ With a quiet sigh, she relaxes her stance somewhat just as the train jerks again. However, this time it is slowing down for the upcoming stop. The shudder causes quite a few standing public transportation patrons to stumble a bit, including the man so desperately and weakly holding onto the pole above her head. But all's well! His hand quickly finds another somewhat cylindrical object. That being one of Paige's horns. "-/Fuck/-!" she yelps loudly as she is /yanked/, accidentally, into other riders. Marinov glances sideways towards the human woman's contemptuous thanks, but says nothing on the subject. They reach out to try and help stabilize Paige, despite their currently rather awkward stance. "Let go of her," says Marinov firmly, a bit of a grumble in their voice. The man quickly releases Paige's horn, holding up his hands as the doors open and people shove past him and the two mutants to the sweet release of underground freedom. "Whoa, dude, /chill/! I didn't do anything to your woman! It was a mistake, honest!" The grin on his face may indicate that he believes Marinov to be over-reacting and finds it amusing. For her part, Paige is a bit more dazed than anything - sudden, unexpected head movements can do that! Marinov's assistance certainly helps her stay upright as she gives a wan smile. "It's fine, it's fine. Thank you, Tay." Despite her words, she appears to be holding back tears. Marinov blinks a few times at the man and opens their mouth, closes it and then opens it again to speak, "She's not my- You can't- I'm not- Hf." Their ears have reddened slightly and they nod towards Paige, speaking a bit quieter, "Are you okay? Prosti... there's not too much further to go." Though Paige does not fall, she does stumble into several nearby passengers -- including the red-faced man who hasn't been reading for a while now. At the collision he snaps his book shut (not as loudly, against the backdrop of a crowded subway station, as he probably would have liked), but his anger has to wait until the newly embarked passengers have settled. /Then/ he explodes at Paige. "What the heck is your problem, mutie? Watch where you trample, you could crush someone's toes with those things!" He rises, gesturing somewhat aggressively at Paige's hooves with his book (/The Big Lie: Exposing the Nazi Roots of the American Left/ by Dinesh D’Souza). "Yeah, /whatever/, man," the earlier man laughs, even going so far as to shake his head. "Whatever." He quiets down, however, and is clearly very much minding his own business, when the red-faced man takes up the 'game'. Paige's startled reaction involves basically trying to leap away from the suddenly enraged man. She doesn't accomplish much of anything due to the amount of people packed in. And a number of them, in fact, are turning around and pressing closer to witness the outburst with their own eyes. Indeed, all she truly manages to do is shuffle a bit. "I -- I -- I didn't -- mean to?" her voice comes out high-pitched and stuttered, the inflection at the end a product of her confusion. "I am -- My deepest apologies, sir, I just -- my apologies. I'll -- I'll be more careful in the future." She's even attempting to offer a smile at the man, though it is clearly forced. Her face is darkened beneath her fur and she seems to be relying on Marinov for physical support. "N-no," comes her whispered response to the teen. Marinov rolls their eyes at the earlier man, but their eyes refocus on the red-faced man and they growl, body tense, "She obviously didn't /try/ to bump into you." Despite their tail being pincered between their knees, it seems like it's trying to escape just to be lashing in annoyance. They hold onto the pole with one hand, and keep their other arm up for Paige to keep stable with, speaking more quietly to her, "Fuck. Prosti. We should just maybe get off at the next stop, wait 'til it's less busy." The man's flushed face twists into an expression of disdain. "Well, if you can't keep your weaponry under control..." He's flailing his book at Paige's /horns/ now. "...you should get the flippin' heck off the subway." He has neglected to hold onto anything, and when the train tracks turn, he stumbles and begins to fall -- forward, toward the two mutants he's trying to chase away. "Yeah, that doesn't sound like a bad --" Paige yelps again as her horns are swatted at and beat upon by a book. She tries to bring her free arm, the one she's not using to stabilize herself against Marinov, to deflect the attacks. This does not end well for her in the slightest as the train turns and she's losing her balance further. "Jesus Christ, I'm sorry! For fuck's sake! I didn't mean -- ! Jesus! I'm -- Apologies!" And then, "/Fuck/," as the train turns. She doesn't even notice that the man has begun falling towards Marinov and herself and doesn't get a chance to avoid it. Especially not with all the people in the car. "Someone grabbed her horns! She wouldn't've bumped into you, if she hadn't have been used as a fucking handhold. And they're not fucking weapons," growls Marinov, the fur on the back of their neck standing on end. They widen their stance as the train turns, their tail freeing itself to express twitchy frustration. The youth releases the pole they were holding onto and tries to reach to stop the man from falling too far forward, if only to avoid being slammed into by a falling man. The man cries out as he falls -- and then cries out louder when Marinov grabs him. "Ahhh, get your filthy paws off of me!" He's sort of shoving at both mutants, even though they are, for the moment, nominally holding him up. Many faces turn blank or curious stares once again upon them. The man finally succeeds in pushing himself away from Marinov, not being overly careful to avoid upsetting /their/ balance. "See this is why so many humans are afraid to tell it like it is." No one seems ready to move out of the way for the struggle between the two mutants and the man and, indeed, no one does. Aside from trying to push physically back against an obvious unnecessary and inconvenient interrupting to their daily routine. "/Jeesus/, dude! I told you it was an accident. Let it go, bro!" the young man from earlier remarks, sighing and rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion, in response to Marinov's comments. Apparently he /was/ listening, but decided that anything that didn't paint him in a bad light was alright to carry on. Paige, for her part, has ended up with her rear on the floor and it is quite obvious that no one nearby is really interested in helping her up. Certainly there are minimal efforts, but trying to use your shoes to shove someone into a standing position isn't as effective as one might think. She doesn't even do much to try and get up herself, perhaps figuring that sitting on the floor of the train is actually the safest place to be until the next stop. Marinov stumbles back at being used to push off of, and they flail their arms and tail to try and keep balance. Once they are stabilized, they look around to get their bearings again. "What!" they say, voice pitched up, "Tell it like it is?! You're just being an asshole! I just... Eraagh!" Marinov pauses a moment upon realizing that Paige is not at eye level, and they crouch down with an extended hand to help her up, though the nearby young man's speaking only prompts the teen to give him a baleful look. The red-faced man is only getting redder. When Marinov crouches to help Paige, he advances on the two mutants, looming over them. "I'm sick of these damned freaks flaunting themselves on /our/ streets, in /our/ subway." He looks around, raises his voice. "I know a lot of you are, too." Down at Marinov and Paige, again. "We're gonna make sure you know your place." Paige isn't even /looking/ at the man towering over her, but she does accept the offered hand. Her face is red, too, but not for the same reason as the blustering man. She struggles to get up, but manages to do so, briefly and apologetically touching someone's knee for support. "I really just want to get the fuck off this train more than anything right now," she whispers to Marinov, still not looking at the aggressive man. Marinov rises with Paige, looking up towards the red-faced man with narrowed eyes and their lip curled up in a half-snarl. They position themselves more between the man and Paige. "This is public transport. We're members of the public. Get used to it," they all but growl. Marinov's voice falls to a whisper, "Yeah, soon as we can, I'm getting outta here..." "You're a public /menace/ is what you are." The red-faced man lets go of the rail he had been holding onto with one hand against the motion of the train. He looks as though he is about to physically attack Marinov, and other nearby customers, whatever their politics, do not look /very/ keen to intervene on their behalf. The train, however, begins braking that very moment as it approaches the next station. The sudden deceleration causes the belligerent human to stumble and crack into several seated customers, who cry out in surprise and displeasure (despite his humanity). The train doors hiss open even as he is trying to pick himself up, a task made more difficult by the press of passengers (more than one might expect) trying to disembark. Paige does give the man a final look as he threatens them again, a frightened, albeit tired, expression. When he falls over and the door /finally/ open, however, she wastes no time saying goodbye. She rushes for the exit, not caring that she's trying to ram through other passengers on her way out. Not minding the rude words they utter towards her in somewhat deserved frustration, discomfort, and anger due to her apparently aggressive means of escaping. She doesn't turn her head to glance back; it seems she is trying to put as much distance between herself and the man on the train as she can as quickly as she is able, squeezing slowly as she is between throngs of commuters. Marinov glares towards the belligerent man, but as the train stops, they turn to follow Paige out into the station. They speak low for her benefit, "Right behind you," sparing a glance over their shoulder as they leave the ajar doors behind. "So," they mumble miserably, "What do you think of a cab?"