ArchivedLogs:TV and Takeout

TV and Takeout
Dramatis Personae Daken, Anette
In Absentia	2015-04-17 "What am I, a hooker? There's enough of those in New York already." Also some discussion of Future Past Plot
Location <NYC> 202 {Anette} - Sunrise Apartments - Clinton
This studio apartment is not big, the living area L-shaped with the entrance at one end and a kitchenette found at the other, its linoleum old and peeling. The shabby carpeting in the combination livingroom-bedroom area carries the stains and smells of tenants long past, frayed and peeling at its corners with the ghosts-scents of smokers of yesteryear. In the cramped bathroom in the back, water damage stains the walls. As does rust, around the showerhead in the tiny shower stall. It's nearing nine at night when Daken arrives outside Anette's apartment, dressed in a worn Nirvana tee, black jacket, jeans, and a pair of combat boots. In one hand he carries a bag of takeout with a yellow smiley face on the side. There's a slight pause as he looks back towards the elevator, before his free hand raises to rap at the door a few times. Most people would be out partying this late on a Friday. Or at least, getting ready to. That's not in the cards for Anette and she's sitting on her couch with the TV playing a rerun of some crime show. In her hands is, of all things, a sewing needle. There's a pile of t-shirts, mostly band, next to her and scissors on her lap as she focuses on her her work. At the sound of the door knocking, she groans slightly in annoyance and sets everything off to the side before making her way to the door. "I told you I'd get the rent to you ne-" She pauses when she sees Daken on the other side. "Hey, what's up?" she asks with a grin, stepping to the side to let him in. "Just beat the shit out of some of Fisk's goons that were giving Trib some shit. Also he's been ignoring my invitations to brunch. Bastard knows he owes me that money he cheated me out of." Daken informs Anette with a grin, leaning over to peck her cheek as he walks by. "Then I picked us up some food. Didn't know what you'd want, so I swung for the sweet and sour chicken." He holds the bag up before moving to set it on the table and take a seat on the couch. "Short on rent money?" "Can't go wrong with sweet and sour." Anette closes the door behind her. "Fisk...good guy. I did some work for him a while. Got me out of some trouble in return. Well...got me into -less- trouble then I would've without him. Apparently it's impossible to not get some jail time when you've pulled a knife on assholes in an entire deli's worth of witnesses." She makes her way to the couch and kicks her projects to the floor before sitting down herself. "Meh, I'm always short on rent." "Good as his lawyers are, don't fuck with him. As soon as you're useless, he'll have his men take you for a long drive off a short pier." Daken warns, passing over one of the boxes and keeping another for himself. "Besides, if they followed me here, he might put a price on your head just for knowing me." He leans forward enough to tug his wallet out, fishing out four bills and passing them over. "It's eight a month for this room, yeah? This'll get you halfway there." Anette shrugs. "I haven't seen him in over a year." She stares at Daken as he mentions the risk of a price on their heads. "So your first thought was to come here? If you wanted to off me, there are easier ways..." Anette says, taking the box and a set of chopsticks. She takes a bite as Daken reaches in to hand her money, quickly chewing and swallowing as she shakes her head. "What am I, a hooker? There's enough of those in New York already. "We both know if they followed me here, they'd be leaving in a trash bag." Daken chuckles slightly, adding a bit of the soy sauce to his rice before taking up his own chopsticks. "And if you are, you never told me. Can't visit you if you here if you get yourself evicted." A piece of the chicken is dipped into the red-orange liquid and popped into his mouth, chewed up, and promptly swallowed. "Should be working for Trib. Going to train his boy toy, that guy Chlorox you mentioned once." Anette laughs as Clorox is mentioned. "Oh that'll be good. That poor boy's scared of his own shadow. You know, if you really want to have some fun, invite me in on the first lesson. He just might wet himself." She digs around for a clump of rice and quickly pops it in her mouth using the chopsticks. "Ah, I won't be evicted. I can get by." Daken grins a bit at the idea, but shakes his head. "Maybe later, but that'd only be to spar me as a demonstration. Last thing I need is for him to decide he doesn't want to take the lessons. Then I'll need to find another paycheck, and then you'll have to work hard to make that up to me." A wink is sent her way before he resumes eating. "Valid point. Though I'm half tempted to offer myself as a sparring partner against him. Though I'd rather not get bleached..." She continues to idly pick at her takeout. "So what's your plan if they come after you again? Just keep lopping heads and limbs off until they stop?" "I told them. If they don't work with me, I'll fuck them up harder than that guy that ran around in the devil outfit did. And put a major wrench in their works." Daken continues, picking up a few more pieces of chicken before closing the box up and putting it on the table. "I'll eventually just invite myself to his place of business. By the time the cops got there they'd find one of us dead, along with all his goons. And don't let that fat fool you, man's pure muscle. Probably about the strongest a regular person can get. Why he's so big, function over aesthetics." Anette shakes her head. "Just...be careful, alright?" She continues to pick at her dinner. "Yeah, I figured as much about him. You don't get to climb that high without being able to throw your weight around a bit." She stares at the TV a bit, half watching the show before she suddenly asks, "I assume you're still having those dreams?" "Same time as you are, I imagine. Getting ready for a raid." Daken scoots over to wrap an arm around Anette, attention drifting between the television and her as she speaks. "I don't think you'll survive it, with the training we have now. Especially not with those darts they're armed with. Which is why I signed you up for my training course later on, in case that future really does happen. I ever tell you about the training I've been through?" "Well, it's five years into the future. I'm assuming I fit in a few more training sessions before then." Anette sets down her takeout for later. "Honestly, I'm still freaked out about the whole baby thing. And the 'professing our love for each' bit. Though I'm not looking forward to this raid thing if it ever happens. We have Dusk on our side though, so maybe we stand a chance." "Yeah, well I could see maybe professing love in a different future. But that one? Well.. I haven't lived it yet, so I couldn't really say how I'd feel. Even though I kinda already did in the dream." Daken brushes the fingers of his opposite hand across his jaw. "I trained under one of the most feared world war two generals there was. Cyber, he took to being called. Scary man, one of the first times I'd ever been whipped with a gasoline soaked rope. Or had my eye ripped out." He pauses for a brief moment. "But I killed every other trainer and student at that camp. Wish I had orders to kill him too, but I was to leave him alive. Where I learned proper English, as well as all the other languages I speak. Also a good chunk of my combat and stealth training happened there." Anette stares in shock at Daken as he describes his past. "Remind me never to mess with you. Jesus...worst I've ever been is shot. In the shoulder. So what kind of camp was this?" Anette asks, leaning up against Daken as she makes herself comfy. "Mercenaries and political assassins." Daken shares. "A lot of people on the island think my talk is just dick waving. They don't understand that I've been killing at least a person a week since I was a teenager. Since I smothered my adoptive mother's baby because she didn't love me. She tried to kill me with a sword, what triggered my mutation. Killed her, and my adoptive father killed himself." Anette suddenly tenses and sits back up, looking him over "You...smothered a child? Because she didn't love you? I can't say I blame her for trying to kill you." She pauses briefly as she lets the last few sentences mull over in her head. "A person...a week. That's a lot of people." "The child bit was a touch of exaggeration." Daken assures Anette. "But she did try to kill me. And it is a lot of people, and not a single one of those was an innocent. I don't kill unless I have a reason, and that usually means it's gang members that try to get in my way, or bodyguards that are between me and my mark." Anette relaxes slowly and leans back against Daken. "Alright. I...can't imagine killing anyone. I've done a lot of things but killing has not been one of them. Yet, in the future, I've killed without blinking. Just...wondering when the first time will be and what it'll be like." "You won't forget it for a long while. Killing isn't the hard part, it's living with yourself afterawrds." Daken gives a tired yawn before pressing his lips to Anette's neck. "I'd work on changing my life path while I still could, if I'm being honest. Except you're one of us now." "At this point...I don't think there's going back," Anette says, smiling faintly as Daken kisses her neck. "I'm one of who, exactly?" She stretches a wing out and slips it behind and around Daken. "Part of the family know, of of the sisters in the brotherhood." Daken says quietly, leaning in for another kiss, this one one pressed on Anette's jaw. "How about we retire to the bed, and finish this conversation later?" he asks, flashing a wicked grin. "Sounds good to me," Anette says, rising up and taking Daken's hand as she leads him towards the bed.