ArchivedLogs:Stormwatching

Stormwatching
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Regan, Thea	2013-08-13 '
Location <BOM> Front Porch - Main Lodge - Ascension Island
The front porch of the lodge unfurls its way across the entire front length of the building. Stained in a dark reddish finish, it seems to have been refurbished somewhat recently, the sturdy wood rather less weather-beaten than many of the buildings on the island. A half-height railing edges most of the porch, with a wide gated staircase centrally leading to the heavy front door, and ungated ramps at either side end. Protected from all but the most driving of rains by a sloped roof, the porch has been furnished with an assortment of furniture. Wicker rocking chairs, a pair of small square aluminum tables, a hammock at the far right end, a bench swing at the left. Despite the solid locks on the doors and windows, the front door holds a cheerfully flower-edged mat reading WELCOME. It's a wet, grey morning. Warm, ish, though it feels cooler with the rain pattering down from the sky; the darker clouds rolling in promise that the shower will turn into a thunderstorm, before too much longer. Under the protection of the porch's overhang roof, Dusk is not currently getting wet. He is perched in kind of gargoyle-like crouch on the porch railing -- if gargoyles wore Vans sneakers, jean shorts, green-and-white striped tee shirts, and boasted a dark scruff of beard on their pale faces. His hands grip the railing between his sneakers, and his enormous wings spike up behind his head. He sits, at the moment, very still, dark eyes fixed outward to watch the rain. Regan has been in the lodge -- perhaps training, as she's clearly taken a recent shower judging by her dampness of hair that comes with distinct soap-and-shampoo smell to rule out simply being rained on. She is casually dressed now; black yoga pants, a white tank top. She emerges from the front door, a large cardboard box in her hands that she sets down on one of the tables before moving over to lean against the railing beside Dusk. Her elbows prop against it, her eyes drifting out to the rain as well. "Do you fly, in storms?" Thea steps out of her cabin wearing an NYU hoodie, with big slashes cut in the back to let her double set of wings trail out behind her. She's also got on sweat pants, but is barefoot. Trailing close behind her is Sonic, the pill bug she's kept for a while now. It's about the size of a labrador, and follows her everywhere. She stays on her own covered porch, but Sonic doesn't seem to mind the rain at all. He trundles out into the mud, snuffling around, the rain pattering off his shiny brown shell. Thea watches him for a moment, and then realizes other people are out too. She waves, and then pulls two of her gossamer wings to cover her, before sprinting across the space from her porch to Dusk's. "Hey," she says, with a shy smile for the both of them. Sonic continue to play in the puddles. "I fly in all weather." Dusk's wings quiver at his back when Regan comes up beside him, but he doesn't move, gaze still riveted outward. "You spend too much time waiting for the storms to pass, and you'll never go anywhere." He draws in a long slow breath, fingers tightening to grip the railing harder; there's little enough colour to him already that the tight clench doesn't really manage to pale him any further. One wing flexes to return Thea's wave. "Hey. He looks happy." A smile, small but warm, curls across Dusk's face as he watches Sonic. "I was going to make breakfast. But." He stretches a wing out, curling around himself to reach forward and catch raindrops on the tip of one lower claw. "Got distracted. In the rest of the city the storms aren't so pretty. Just -- dirty." "Morning." Regan shifts, slightly to one side, leaning just one elbow against the rail so that she can watch Thea and Dusk both, now, rather than the rain. "Some people do well in storms." Her eyes flick briefly out to Sonic, and then back to the others. "It's not the storm that are dirty, it's the city. It can be cleaned up." Thea smiles at Dusk's mention of Sonic. "Oh, he loves the rain. He's going to really like the fall, I think." She reaches into the front pocket of her hoodie and produces a milky way bar. She peels the wrapper and takes a bite. "He does better than I do. Sometimes storms mess up my reception." He ducks her head briefly to make her antennae waggle, and then shrugs. "Fall out here is going to be gorgeous." Dusk curls his wings against his back once more, water dripping down one claw off onto the porch. "I don't think the city's /stopped/ storming all summer. You guys hear about Harlem?" His fingers clench, then unclench. "Friend of mind, up there." Regan glances to Thea's antennae, thoughtfully. "How much do you pick up, with those?" Her lips compress at the mention of Harlem, and she exhales once in a sharp burst. "I heard. That was one of the people we got out with you." She tips her chin towards Thea in indication. "Friend of yours? Not the one who died, I hope?" Her hand falls down against the railing, fingers drumming on its surface. "Sounds like they're making a stand of it, up there." This, at least, draws a smile from her, curling slow across her face. "I imagine they're going to need reinforcements." Thea looks like she's about to say something about her antennae, but the Harlem story pulls her full attention. "I can't /believe/ what they're do to those poor people, holed up like that. I mean, I /should/ believe, after everything." She sighs, and watches Sonic scare himself when he bumps against the side of a cabin. He balls up and rolls a short distance to come to a halt in a puddle. "But yeah Regan, I was thinking we could help. Maybe ants again, or something new." Thea shrugs, open to ideas. "Those poor people did just kill a bunch of folks and destroy a large chunk of Harlem," Dusk points out mildly, his own lips twitching, slightly. Perhaps at the conversation, perhaps at Sonic; his eyes are still fixed outward, watching the pillbug roll around. "It's quiet at the moment. I don't think it's going to stay quiet long. Do we want to help them /hold/ it, or do we want to help them get out of there alive?" Regan breathes out a quiet laugh, turning back towards the rain but slanting a sidelong look to Dusk through faintly narrowed eyes. "Mmm." There's a touch of amusement in her quiet contralto. She laces her fingers together, elbows still propped on the rail. "Yes, it's incredible what people will do when pushed to it, isn't it? There'll be more death before that fiasco is over. We should just make sure it doesn't fall on the shoulders of /our/ people." She lifts one bare shoulder in a quick shrug. "I don't think there's a lot of point in /escalating/ before they do. The community is helping. That's good. More destruction /before/ the police escalate will only turn that against us. But they'll escalate, no doubt about that." Her eyes slip to Thea, now, head tipping in a nod. "And once they do, we'll smack them back down. Who do you have who's strong? They'll need to be able to take gunfire, we don't want to hurt them needlessly." Thea nods at Dusk's point about the killing, but shrugs. "Yeah, but, we don't know /why/ they did that. I mean, I can understand being pushed to that point, where you don't have any other options." She takes another bite of her bar, and nods, listening to Regan's question. "Well, the ants and beetles can handle smaller guns and stuff, but anything heavier needs Sonic's big brothers." She gestures toward the rolly-poly trying to right himself in the mud. Just when it looks like Thea will need to go out and flip him upright, he manages it on his own. Thea makes a tiny proud chirrup which she tries to conceal as a cough. "But they aren't very aggressive, you know? Just walking walls. So it depends on what you want. I could get the ants opening tunnels under there now though. I wasn't under Harlem much before, but it we could get a few tunnels going at least." Dusk's shoulders tense at Regan's answer, his wings pressing in harder against his shoulders. "People do get pushed to all kinds of things." He sounds tired, at this. His eyes lower to fix on his hands. "Think we should talk to the Morlocks before tunneling around too much. They've already had their share of shit lately, I'd hate to think we were bring cops /back/ down on them. But -- maybe if we ask first they won't mind, long as we don't go near their home. -- If we do need to help them get out quick, though, tunnelers will probably be our best bet." His arms tense against the railing, and he hops down backwards, to actually stand on the ground. "A friend of mine's helping gather supplies. Cook food. If it's still quiet enough to not get shot, I'm probably going to just /fly/ in tonight and drop off some things for them. I could talk to them while I'm there? See if they /have/ a plan -- or want one?" "Do we have any contacts in the Morlocks?" Regan is quietly musing, at this. "There is that child. Comes to Fight Club. We could talk to him. Because I think your tunnels will certainly come in handy before this is all through." She glances up, as Dusk moves, and pushes away from the railing herself. "Yes, please. That would be useful. You're going /tonight/?" Her eyebrows raise, and she turns towards the table where she left her box. "I guess that's as good a way to spend the night as any. But, mmm, if you're going to be busy tonight, maybe we should take a bit and sit down /now/ to eat this?" Her fingers steeple on the top of the box, and she untucks its front flaps, pulling it open to reveal a large cake inside! It has been very carefully iced with an image of Darkwing Duck in the icing. 'Happy Birthday, Dusk', reads across the top, and across the bottom: 'Let's Get Dangerous'. "Well, let me know when you hear from the Morlocks," Thea says. "But those people crazy, and I'm pretty sure they don't want to hear from me. We'll start digging when you say 'go'." Then the cake comes out. "Hey!" Thea says in mock anger. "I didn't know it was your birthday." She seems pleased though, even as she playfully backhands the boy on the shoulder. At the sound of her raised volume, Sonic comes trundling over to the edge of porch, trying to peer up and onto the platform without going to all the trouble of scuttling up stairs. "Happy birthday, you." She cocks her head at the cake, and then chuffs a laugh. "Wow, Regan, is that /really/ good old D.W.? I'm impressed." "With everything going on these days, I think we're /all/ a little bit crazy." Dusk is looking a little bit tired, at that, but a smile spreads across his face at the sight of the cake. "Holy shit! -- Oh, /man/, that's incredible. I -- wow, thanks. This is better breakfast than I would have made. His wing stretches out, brushing lightly against Thea's arm in return after the shoulder-thump. "S'good way to start the day." "It /is/." Regan grins, quick and bright. "Don't worry, /I/ didn't make the cake, so it's good. Dairy-free, too. It's blood-flavoured." This last /might/ be a lie. It is chocolate with raspberry sauce, though. Very similar. She scoops the box into her arms, nodding towards the door of the lounge. "C'mon. Breakfast of champions. Sure people inside will want a taste. -- He can come, too." With a nod towards Sonic. She holds the box carefully in her arms as she heads inside.