ArchivedLogs:Nox

Nox
Dramatis Personae Ion, Rasa, Seamonster	2017-08-21 "Where are we??"
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Treehaus - Lower East Side
A spiral of sturdy slatted wooden stairs winds up the trunk of an enormous oak, leading the way up to this treehouse positioned between a pair of trees at one side of the Commons yard, abutting the river. It's clear enough upon ascending that this is no ordinary treehouse, built sturdy-strong and with a polished finish that would rival most /regular/ residences. Spanning the distance between the pair of oaks, the treehouse is a long one-story building, equipped with both plumbing and electricity. The stairs lead up onto a wraparound balcony that projects out at one side to overlook the East River rushing by below. The doorway inside leads to a furnished sitting room, long low futon-couches on the pale wood floors, walls painted in leafy shades of green, exposed-beam ceilings that seem to have worked some of the actual branches of the tree into the curvature of the roof. The front room is bright and airy, large windows looking out on the Commons grounds and the river outside. Recessed lanterns in the wall give the room a warm glow, come nighttimes, and in the center of the room amid a stone-tiled patch of flooring there is a squat glass-encased gas fireplace providing warmth in winter. Off to one side of the room there is an elevated loft up nearer the ceiling, accessible by ladder and furnished with pillows and plush futon mattress and lots of blankets. The adjoining room is decorated in watery river-blues instead of leaf-greens; in here there's a small kitchenette to one side with sink and stove and toaster oven and counter space, cabinets on the walls. A long dining table in this room seats eight; by the windows, plenty of cushioning sits in the wide window-seats. Off in the very back, a tiny half-bathroom holds a sink and toilet. No stove in here; the wintertime tends to find this room much chillier, but there's generally plenty of warm blankets lying around the house. After an all day Sunday shift at Evolve then a few drinks after, it is not uncommon to see Rasa crashing out at the Commons between shifts. During the warmer weather, ze tends to pick the the treehouse over the damper rooms ze'll share with the twins. The breezes that come off the river flood the elevated and open layout, cooling things faster than well insulated buildings. Ze takes up one of the futons, curled around a giant pillow, hir arms and legs practically squeezing the life out of the fluffy bedding. A sheet - more sensible in the summer heat - and a light knit blanket are tangled up in hir limbs, but it is difficult -- at first -- to tell where the fabric ends and the young mutant begins. Watching Rasa sleep is a source of entertainment -- or so ze's been told. Not only does hir form shift with every dream and nightmare ze has, but ze also compensates for the shifting temperature. Ze may have started out the night in scales and smooth skin, fading bruises and healing cuts, teeming with heat from the night's exertions and possibly a drink or two too many, but as the night wears on, ze grows fluffy fur to adjust for the cooling night air and the drying sweat. When morning -- or whenever ze's consciousness begins to return -- arrives, ze is covered in floofy fur, light and airy like feathery down, hard scales covering injuries from the Friday before. Hir coloration matches the colorful greens of the room, whether from dreams or memory of where ze is, it's hard to say. The Lump that is Rasa moves, shoulders lifting first, head bowed. A yawn further increases hir rib cage before a stretch slithers down hir spine all the way to the tip of hir tail. There's a humming outside, low and droning, that cuts off somewhere nearby. Shortly after, bounding footsteps up the ladder, a door thrust open, one distressingly wide-awake Ion barging in. Heavy boots, black tee, his MC vest on over, an impressive shiner on one eye, a BRIGHT smile, he's in typical Ion-attire. Also typical, his booming greeting: "{YO smallthings, you up, you --} Shiiit," he doesn't seem dismayed to see Rasa so much as temporarily derailed. "Them tiny sharks, they gone already? Is okay, you come now, yeah?" "Um, yeah." Rasa stretches arms over hir head and yawns again, then gathers hir legs under hir. "I think they get dehydrated and have to go swim at some point..." Obviously not fully awake yet, ze yawns once more, exposing a set of sharp teeth, more befitting the floof dragon ze has awoken as. "And Yeah Think I can come down now." Ze blinks pink colored irises at Ion then raises feathery brows. "How's your face?" "Eh? Issa fantastic face, you don't think?" Ion gestures with fluttering fingers towards his bruised and cheerful face. "You got some fluffs going on, woke up real summer-looking. Come come," already he's ducking back out of the house, "we go then." Half climbing, half jumping his way down from the treehouse to his waiting bike. (Sidecar attached, though the leathery-winged gremlin securely strapped into it is as of the moment evidently asleep.) "Fluff?" Rasa spins in a circle, patting down hir face and scalp as if exploring a brand new self for the first time. Some of the floof shortens as ze does, hir jaw realigning to a slightly more human mandible. Fingers snag up a pair of shorts and steps into them, pulling a tank top over the top as ze scoops up a bag, following Ion quietly. Rasa's descent from the tree house is more direct, landing on all fours beside the bike before tilting hir head at little Egg. "Oh. So, uh, we going somewhere?" "Hell yeah we going somewhere." Ever so conscientious of safety, Ion thrusts a second helmet to his passenger before putting on his own and mounting up. Waiting for Rasa to settle, at least, before starting the bike with its low hum of hybrid motor. “Hold tight, yeah?” It lifts off, hovering low over the ground and then easing forward, picking up speed in the air smooth and rapid. The paths are somewhat irrelevant to the hoverbike; it cuts straight across the courtyard, zooming with mounting speed -- -- directly at Workhaus. And then, (ever so conscientious of safety), speeding up still further to plow straight for the broad stone wall of the home. Rasa nods slowly and puts hir helmet on, buckling it tightly as ze slides onto the seat behind Ion, wrapping a tail around him while ze gets hir bag settled securely on hir shoulders. Hir arms follow, bracing hir fluffy body to his, stifling yet another yawn. When they take off, ze peeks a little over his shoulder to see where they are heading. Upon seeing the stone wall, Hir eyes fly open wider. Adrenaline - it's a hell of a drug. Much better than caffeine. Hir arms grip him tighter. The hoverbike doesn't slow at all. Straight at -- and then into the wall, with a hard -- -- not exactly crash. A hard smack of jolt that, under these conditions, a mind may well /interpret/ as a crash, hard kick of seizing muscles just before the world goes black, a fierce electric jolt still shuddering through Rasa -- -- up until the world reappears again, only briefly enough to catch dusty barely-there street, a wide rolling field of corn before, a kind of gawping older man in coveralls just emerging from the front door of a dilapidated store -- -- that vanishes again with the same jolt, world coming out once more to the parking lot of a Wal-Mart, mountains in the distance -- -- and blackness again. When the world resolves the next time, it's outside a liquor store. To one side of them there is ocean, now; easy to notice (possibly once the shock wears off) from the salt-spray breeze and crashing tide, to the other side, an /extremely/ crowded stretch of highway, traffic come to a standstill. Not that that stops Ion, bike skimming higher -- higher. Up into the air and straight over the line of stopped cars, following the shoreline. "You good? I gotten all my passenger still?" Checking the sidecar SOLICITOUSLY. Egg is now blinking up from their harness, claws working slowly in the air. Rasa's hands ball up with all the force ze can manage as they collide into the stone wall, hir knees rising as ze attempts to curl into a fetal position. The pain ze expects next never arrives and Ion stays in hir arms... and the motorcycle beneath hir thighs and the world... well, the world shifts. Choice words about being carted off to some Wal-Mart in the middle of nowhere dissipate as they continue on their path to... Hir hands relax a little further between shifts (only tensing with the jolt) until they find themselves on the coast. Hir head starts to swivel around as ze takes in the land mass beneath them and the curious stretch of vehicles. As they continue to rise. Confusion weighs on hir for a moment before hir attention drifts toward the sky. "Ion..." ze starts, raising hir voice when the winds buffet it. "Where are we??" ‘FLYING,’ Egg signs, firmly. Their ears swivel to and fro as they click-click-click in an attempt to get their bearings. ‘Flying /and/ beach. Fun fun fun!’ They work their wings free and flail them kind of uselessly, given that the harness anchors them firmly in place. "Shit, yeah, tiny monster once we done you want to swim? I could find you some place." The bike glides swiftly through the air, veering off away from the road -- occasionally skimming lower over the rocky coast. Ion turns his head slightly over his shoulder, grin obscured behind the tinted faceplate of his helmet. "I fucking /hope/ we in Oregon or my aim /way/ the hells off. You been?" "Ah... No!" Rasa cocks hir head to one side, and signs 'yes. Flying' back to Egg, wetting hir lips before reaching hir hands around to the side of hir bag... "Oh shit. My phone is fried, isn't it." Ze inhales sharply then shakes hir head lightly. "Tell me you at least brought enough glasses?" Disappointment disappears quickly as ze starts to smile, studying the ground again. "Pleeeease say you brought glasses. We're in time for the eclipse, yeah?" ‘Swimming yes, I want swimming I swim /good/ like /sea monster/!’ The words tumble rapid-fire from Egg’s hands. They crane their head up, long ears flapping in the wind. ‘Why glasses why do we need glasses?’ Their eyes go huge and round and curious. "Hey I'm a Boy Scout -- or anyway I definitely done fight a few boy scout recently," Ion breezes glibly, "I bring /extra/ pair you know someone break theirs or forgotten it in the car right when shit about to get dark." Finally veering off over /proper/ land, Ion sets the bike down neat and smooth on an outcropping of rocky cliff near a large bay. Mossy and green and tree-covered, the hills behind them are verdant and alive; in front, the ocean crashes loud and ceaseless against the rocks. Even up here -- no actual road leading anywhere visibly near -- they're not alone, a couple families or clusters of people spread out on blankets or just the rocks, some with picnic baskets or thermoses, some just chatting. Ion has kept his distance from all these as he stoops to unstrap Egg from their harness, hitch them up to hold them one-armed against his side. "We gonna see some /magic/ here, that's why. Whole-ass sun get blotted out. You need the glasses so your eyes don't get hurt none looking at the light, yeah?" Frown. "... will there be light. Sun's going away." He squints up at the sky with a deeply contemplative frown. "We ain't taking no chances, those big pretty eyes of yours, though?" Opening up one of his large hard-sided panniers, he pulls out -- a couple soft bags, pairs of glasses (one SMALL and with its own head-strap to hold it in place) inside. Also a six-pack of Dogfish Head Namaste, offering one to Rasa with brows lifted. "We in good time. Gonna watch the whole damn world's lights get out."