ArchivedLogs:Squatting Skeletons
| Squatting Skeletons | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2015-05-26 ' |
| Location
<NYC> Brooklyn | |
The most populous of the boroughs, Brooklyn has nothing if not character. With a thriving music and arts scene, and a distinctive New York slant to its stereotypical gritty accents, Brooklyn ranges from the high-cultured to the very much working class. From botanical gardens to beachfronts, Manhattanites might like to think their borough is the only one that matters, but Brooklyn has a lot to offer of its own. It's getting dark, and not many people are out and about in this part of the city. What sounds most definitely like muffled gunshots comes from the abandoned warehouse, then a scream as a man is literally hurled out of the exit straight into a light post, denting it. A flaming skeleton steps out behind him, dressed in a black tank top, dark jeans, and a leather belt. The flame dies down and muscle starts to grow over bone, followed by skin and hair. He makes his way over to a motorcycle and digs out a cigar, "Another day in paradise." Eloise is stuck in a foreign (to her) land, homeless and without any family or support network. But she's not absolutely crazy. Gunshots and flaming skeletons rank right up with 'zombie hordes' on her "to-avoid" list. So when the 16-ish teen girl, clad in a parka and old, ratty clothing that can't conceal her obvious mutation (namely, she's glowing like a bright lightbulb, particularly noticable in the dark) - sees the flaming skeleton stepping out from behind the warehouse, she spends about two seconds staring out in shock, before screaming and BOLTING. "And here I thought I was pretty!" Daniel calls after the screaming teen, tugging a lighter out of his jeans and takes a drag. He cranks up and heads down the road a bit, heading Eloise off. "You done yet?" he questions, leaning against a wall. Eloise looks over the biker up and down. "Depends on why your chasing me." she says in a northern english accent. "You know, even by the standards of our kind, thats pretty scary. And this isn't the best neighborhood." "Simple." Daniel takes another drag from his cheap cigar, blowing a few smoke rings. "You don't have a place to stay, the C Squat's a punk venue now, and homeless shelters are kind of sketchy. I used to squat back there." He gestures back towards the warehouse. "Apparently they decided," the gesture shifts towards the semi-conscious man near the pole, "that it was a good idea to use it to run drugs." Eloise tilts her head. "That obvious these days? Bugger it." She glances around. "Thanks for the offer, but we just met, and there are a lot of avenues for our kind in the city these days. Ways to stick together. Whats you name?" "Not offering for you to come with me." Daniel gives his head a slight shake. "Just warning you to be safe. And it's Danny Ketch." He pushes off the wall to offer a hand. Eloise extends her hand. "Eloise." She pauses. "I'll take the warning. There are other places then here. Whats with the flaming and the shooting?" "Apparently if you run up on a drug deal, they try to kill you. Wasn't a great idea." Daniel shakes Eloise's hand. "Happens though, at least none of them are dead. I don't think anyway." "I'll...take your word on that, Danny." Eloise says, cautiously. "Thanks for the heads up. I'd hate to be caught in the wrong place at the wrong time." "Might not be legal to have them in the city.. But I'd pick up a knife." Daniel moves to get back on his bike. "Take care." he offers a two-fingered salute before cranking up. | |
