ArchivedLogs:Not Quite Tropical

Not Quite Tropical
Dramatis Personae Ash, Jax, Morgan
In Absentia	2015-03-14 "Is that supposed to be a euphemism?"
Location <NYC> Lower East Side
Historically characterized by crime and immigrant families crammed into cramped tenement buildings, the Lower East Side is often identified with its working-class roots. Today, it plays host to many of New York's mutant poor, although even here they are still often forced into hiding. It's /kind/ of wet and /kind/ of cold but not really settled on being either of those things properly; just a sort of muddly afternoon rather than a properly miserable one. Drizzly, grey. People can't even seem to really make up their minds whether they should be hurrying to get from place to place or not, whether they should break out the umbrellas they're mostly carrying or not. Jax /has/ an umbrella (it's bright bright yellow), but he hasn't opened it; it hangs at his side as he trots out of a building -- Inkline Studios, the name on it reads, an unobtrusive second-story storefront over top of a vintage clothing store. He's coming down the stairs and out the door, bright not just in the umbrella but in his bird-of-paradise-flower dyed hair, in mismatched thigh-high multicoloured socks, pleated blue-and-black skirt, rainbow colourblocked sweatshirt under his blue jacket, chunky blue platform boots. A small bounce on his toes as he grimaces up at the sky -- looks down at his umbrella -- back up at the sky. Hrrrrf. Hay colored hair pulled back into a bouncy pony-tail, Morgan jogs through the rain at a leisurely pace. Even everyday New Yorkers seem to pass her by at their hustle-and-bustle walking speed, but she doesn't seem to be all too interested in impressing anyone with speed. She's in her head. Gradually, Morgan slows all the way down to a stop at a traffic light just outside of the tattoo parlor. Tugging out one of her ear buds, the tempo of up-beat, pop music pumps out at a low hum in the space around her. As she stretches up a leg to the traffic light's base, she brings up her hands to touch her foot and happens to turn in Jax's direction. The man gets a surprised blink out of her for his outfit, but a standard, passerby-on-the-street style smile. She brushes some damp bangs out of her face, "It's better than snow, at least," she gruffs reassuringly at his grimace. Ash is just wandering in the rain, the rain starting to really soak into the shoulders of his brown jacket and the hair on his head. He has his hands stuffed deeply into the pockets of said jacket, his browned blue jeans peeking out from the bottom hem. His feet carry him near the studio that Jax is emerging from the upper level door, the bright yellow catching his attention first before the rest of him. He extracts a hand from his pocket and gives a wave before looking over at the person speaking to him. "We're just lucky! It's not even spring yet and we're getting rain. It's amazing." He grins at Morgan before looking up to Jax. "Any awesome designs today?" Jax's return smile is automatic, quick and warm. "Oh, gosh, /way/ better, I'm so over snow." Just as automatic is the hand he lifts to tip his hat to Morgan -- nevermind that he wasn't wearing a hat a second ago, one /appears/ on his head long enough to be tipped, a large black Stetson that vanishes again a moment later. "-- don't /say/ that," he adds to Ash, "in my head it's already spring an' that's jus' what I'm gonna keep believin'. Warm, lovely, happy spring. I tattooed tree monsters on someone, it was delightful. Nothin' says spring like tree-pocalypse." "As far as I'm concerned this is down right fuckin' tropical," Morgan spouts out, not patting a lash at cursing casually. Her cheeks do redden some at the vanishing hat trick, which apparently tests her sense of propriety. She peaks this way and that over her shoulder to see if anyone might have seen, as if scoping out if the cost is clear. Straightening up, she reaches up to pull her pony-tail a bit tighter before switching to stretch out her other leg. "Ha. The thing is - that's kind of no longer a tell tale marker of the season, at least for me. Personal problem." Ash shrugs, still grinning as he bows his head. "The tattoo sounds really cool though. Having spring on your arm all the time? Great idea. I think maybe we'll have an early spring. I mean, we've been through a lot of snow this year and it's been really cold, but it's bound to turn around, right? Get better?" Ash scuffs his toe and moves to stand beside Jax. "Tropical, eh? Where you from originally? The north pole?" "Tropical? This?" Jax shivers, shaking his head emphatically. "I ain't sure m'ready t'go /quite/ that far. It's definitely an improvement, though. Started workin' soil in my gardens, gettin' ready maybe to actually do some /plantin'/. It's like the world's gonna wake /up/ again. Almost. Almost-almost." His brows furrow briefly. "Though -- maybe hopefully not wake up into tree /monsters/, that'd be a little --" He pauses, considers: "... actually, not the strangest thing I done seen around here. Sometimes New York cooks up /oddness/." "From right here. Born and raised, baby! But, maybe tropical was too far," Morgan raises her eyebrows, grinning, "The heat in my building sucks. I'm just happy to not be freezing my ass off." With a grunt, she pulls back onto two feet and brings her arm up behind her head to stretch out her shoulders. "I'd take tree monsters over zombies any day of the week." Rolling her head around, Morgan cracks her neck as a cluster of very drunk, green shirt wearing, Jersey Shore type girls pass by. She widens her eyes, nodding her head in their direction, "Or them." "My last apartment? We couldn't turn the heat off. We had to keep the windows open during the winter just to keep from roasting. I thought about cranking the AC, but we didn't have AC." Ash scuffs his hand through his hair once more before his brows dart upward. "I think treemonsters would like me. I'm a pretty laid back guy and Ents are super slow. Zombies, man, you just can't reason with them." He glances in the direction of the people Morgan mentions, his smile fading. His head bows, then peeks over at Jax once more. "Sure thing. New York is pretty different like that. It gave me some pretty delicious rock candy once." "I know one kinda excellent zombie but he ain't the norm." Jax's nose crinkles up as he watches the girls in green pass by. His own hair shifts, streaks of green tinting it, too. "Oh /gosh/ oh gosh I forgot that was comin' up. I expect my club'll be bathed in green this week too. Though hopefully not near so much as most. Some neighborhoods is jus' a /fright/ t'walk through. /I'll/ take zombies over drunk frat-bros most days, y'can't reason with /them/." His shudder is kind of exaggerated. "... rock candy? Huh. Ain't given me that. Chocolate rain, though. That was a treat." One of the girls turns back to scoff at the trio, but is quickly turned off by an Alpha-dog stare from Morgan. She quickly goes back to squawking along with the rest of her drunken friends. The runner shifts, letting out a feminine grunt as she continues to stretch, "Chocolate rain? Is that supposed to be a euphemism?" Morgan winks, "Your club? God bless you if you're working' during *this.* You better get rich." The former cop makes no move to cover up watching Jax's hair change, nor side-eyeing Ash for any obvious signs of mutation. "Oh, man, I didn't give you any of my rock candy? Oh no. I meant to share. It was just kind of growing on its own for a while. And so tasty." Ash grins a little brighter. "And all the colors! Maybe I have pictures." Absentmindedly, he pulls out his phone and starts flipping through the photo gallery. "So... uh, does green beer tasty any differently than regular beer? I haven't celebrated St. Patrick's Day yet - well, you know, with drunken carousing, but it looks so fun in the movies, where people sing and maybe punch each other in the faces and laugh about it. Do bars really make more money during this, or is there a lot of collateral damage due to broken glasses? Maybe I shouldn't judge what actual celebrations are like from movies -- or maybe not from Boondocks Saints at least." "I feel like Boondock Saints is actually an entirely accurate depiction," Jax informs Ash brightly. "Lotsa drinkin', lotsa violence. S'pretty much what it is. -- An' no, t'ain't no euphemism for nothin', there was jus' a day last year where -- where it done rained actual chocolate. It was delicious. Way better'n snow. Best storm ever." The thought puts a small bounce back into Jax's posture. "Well, ain't /my/ club-my club, but I tend bar Saturday nights down at Evolve, an' -- it do tend t'get busy come the -- extra drinky holidays. The clubs tend t'factor in the drunk-damage so it do end up pretty good for everyone, the days that jus' -- encourage boozin'. We ain't, like, the most Irish of places, but only so many spots in town freaks can /get/ their drink on anyway so I expect we'll be fair packed anyway." "I love that movie," Morgan croaks. Is that any big surprise? She delicately plucks up the earplug headphones dangling from the neck of her hoodie and moves to replace them in her ears. "Well, good luck," she offers dryly to Jax, "I'm not sure drunk people from New Jersey are any easier to deal with than drunk frea-" She stammers. She can't say the word, anymore. Forcing up a wolfish smile to overcompensate, Morg brings up a hand to sort of mock-salute the two men in lieu of a wave goodbye. Pushing off, she moves to continue her jog. Ash opens his mouth, but doesn't speak, lips resealing again after that moment. He nods simply to Morgan as she starts to head off on her jog once more. He turns his attention back to Jax again, brows rising, smile returning. "Maybe I'll come by and enjoy the green booze - you know, because it's best to drink where you're welcome. Also, I may spend the afternoon looking up songs to sing. You know any? Unfortunately, I don't know any already." Jax's smile tips up, a little crooked and a little amused when Morgan cuts herself off. His illusioned-hat reappears, the same Stetson though this time bright blue; he tips it to Morgan as she headsoff. "Enjoy your run." To Ash he lifts his shoulder in a small shrug. "I don't know, um. Danny Boy? That's about all I got. -- Y'had lunch yet? I'm just on my break. Gonna grab a bite. Love some company, if you're in the mood." He gestures -- down the block. Vaguely. There's restaurants -- that way. "I can pretty much always eat, Jax." All of Ash's teeth are showing when he replies to his friend's offer for food, extending an elbow in case the taller man wishes to take it as they walk. "Danny Boy... that one's sad, isn't it? Maybe I'll find one more exciting." Jax hooks his arm through Ash's, head tipping slightly up to catch stray drizzle on his face. "I think that one's sad, yeah. Maybe find one about selkies. Wait those is usually sad too. I don't know. Somethin' -- jig -y?" He shrugs, uncertainly. "M'sure we can figure somethin' out over pho."