ArchivedLogs:Real Talk

Real Talk
Dramatis Personae Fiona, Marrow	2017-01-10 A scene in which Fiona tries to mind her own business and Marrow decides to share her wisdom.
Location <NYC> Bronx
The northernmost of New York's five boroughs, the Bronx... well. You might get shanked. After the antics at the IHOP last night, you would not think Fiona would be back in the Bronx so soon, but she is here, skulking about in jeans and a fleece lined flannel shirt that's rather too large for her. Her tail snakes out from beneath the tail of said shirt. It's just above freezing out, and cloudy - not ideal walkabout conditions but... at least it's not blizzarding anymore. There's blatant and then there is Marrow. Perched on a brick wall in shredded and patched black leather, smoking a huge joint and blowing smoke rings into the air. To help fend off the cold half a bottle of cheap tequila is on the wall within easy reach with a wedge of lemon jammed in the neck of the bottle and the bottlecap nowhere in sight. As she walks by Marrow, Fiona slows down but gives her a wide berth at the same time - she looks like one of those tough city people that... well that people like her shouldn't mess with! Yup! Marrow is SCARY. Plus the smell of weed makes her nose wrinkle a little bit - not something she's unfamiliar with but not something she ever smoked, either. She almost opens her mouth to say something, then thinks better of it but Marrow would probably see the little pause in her step. "Got something to say then grow a pair and say it," Marrow suggests with wry amusement, before taking a long gulp of the tequila. "Although I get the feeling we'll have more in common than you'd like to admit." While her pinkish skin and hair might be something you can attribute to the cold the bones poking out of skin and clothing scream mutant. Fiona is about to cross the street at that point, but she turns around to face Marrow, surprised. At that moment the light changes, leaving her stuck on that side of the street for a while anyway. "N-no... Look, I don't really have any money or anything," murmurs the dragon girl - despite appearances she seems rather timid. "I dunno, do we?" she asks, curious. Other than them being both mutants. There is that, but it's so obvious as to be overlooked. Marrow almost chokes on a lungful of smoke when Fiona mentions not having any money. "You honestly think I'm sitting here waiting to roll a homeless kid for pocket change? Fuckin' hell you get thrown out of home a week ago or something?" She holds out the bottle of tequila. "Let me take some wild guesses here. For one reason or another you left home because you've got a physical mutation and it scares people, none of your friends and family gave a damn and now you live on the streets in the middle of winter. And you walk like prey, so 'home' was probably a shit hole you could lose in Central park." Fiona stomps one of her feet, tail swishing around in angry nervousness, "That's not true! They care!" she snorts fire out of one nostril, "I just..." she trails off, not really being able to say anything to refute the rest of Marrow's rant. Shoulders slump a little. She doesn't have to be such a jerk about it! Aside from the timeline being a bit off - she got here maybe THREE weeks ago, actually. "You able to make enough fire to actually hurt anyone?" Marrow wonders curiously, still holding the bottle of tequila out. "If so walk like it. People can practically smell weakness, makes you a target. You look strong and people are much less likely to hassle you." She sloshes the bottle expectantly. "People who care don't leave people out on the street when it's summer. Let alone when it's snowing." Fiona looks down at the bottle of tequila, then up at Marrow, shaking her head. "That stuff will put me on the ground. I can't really... drink very much," she rubs one arm, looks down at the ground, then looks up at Marrow again. "Anyway, I can make a lot, it's just kinda dangerous around here. I mean, there's a lot of stuff that could catch on fire... also... uh... it makes me really hungry." She is literally spewing flames, so that makes sense that it would burn a lot of calories... literally. Marrow shrugs, then takes a swig. "Not when it's covered in snow," she points out. "You might want to work on blasting a little flame skywards to scare people. And then work your way up to burning actual people. Not really a good time for a mutant to take up urban camping.. lot of angry topsiders looking for easy victims." "You mean like..." Fiona trails off, taking a breath; and then -fwoosh-, a jet of flame blows about thirty feet up, billowing and lighting the street in an orange glow. "Um, like that?" she blinks, looking even more embarrassed now. That was a dumb idea. Really dumb! What if someone saw that? They'd probably call the cops or something... "That'll do unless you reckon you can spell 'Fuck you' out in fire," Marrow says after a few moments critical consideration. Despite the unexpected pyrotechnics she didn't seem to flinch in the slighest. "I've got a few party tricks, but my current favorite is this.." She puts the bottle down, then flicks her arm forward her palm facing upwards. Each fingertip practically explodes into a three inch bloody raw bone claw. Blood and gore splatters on the black slushy snow coating the sidewalk. "Hurts like a motherfucker but I shit you not I've made grown men piss themselves in terror." She leans back and fishes a plastic bottle of something from behind the wall, then sloshes the contents over the blood. "Downside is you need to slosh bleach everywhere to make it harder for the pigs to run DNA tests." Fiona makes a little face like, "Gross," when Marrow splatters blood everywhere. She steps back a little just to make sure she doesn't get any of the blood OR bleach on her, "I can see they would do that..." she looks somewhat disappointed that Marrow was quite unimpressed by the flame! That was the best she could do, after all! Oh well. "Do they... retract? What about your hand? Is it okay?" "Is it okay? It's splattered all over the sidewalk, what do you think?" Marrow takes a long toke on her joint, then returns her fingerbones to normal shape. She holds her hand up as the flesh re-knits and re-grows. "The trick is to grow a new one." Fiona looks on wide eyed as Marrow does just that. She's never seen anything like that before. "Well, I guess that means it's ... sorta okay." On the whole she seems somewhat shocked by the massive display of gore. "Ah... I guess I'm curious but... I didn't think you'd really care." Actually, she thought Marrow would probably beat her up and take her lunch money. "I'm, ah, Fiona," she hesitantly holds out a hand to shake opposite Marrow's bloody one. "Marrow," she states, holding the joint up in a salute. Her hands a little full for shaking right now. "I only care about Morlocks. But you look like maybe you'd feel at home." She hops off the wall. "If you think you could handle following a few simple rules and don't mind sleeping in the sewers try find us sometime. Ask around at Evolve, most of the staff there know how to send us a message." Somewhere in the distance there is a gunshot. "And that's what I was waiting for. You'll have to excuse me. Places to go, people to maim." Fiona just kind of blinks and nods - the whole experience was rather surreal, like many she has had in New York. She decides to make herself scarce before cops show up wondering about either that gunshot (off in the distance) or her flames. Away!