ArchivedLogs:Talents

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Talents

Everyone has one!

Dramatis Personae

Rasputin, Tess, Trib

2013-12-06


Rasputin-bird, Tess, and Trib meet and talk about talents and potential jobs!

Location

<NYC> East Harlem


With the highest violent crime rate in Manhattan and a failing educational system, it is easy to overlook the charms of El Barrio. Amidst its problems, East Harlem is a place thriving with culture. Salsa dancing has a rich history in the neighborhood, and in the open-air markets a wide assortment of goods can be bought from the West African community there.


It is cold, in New York. Cold and /wet/. Not cold enough for the stuff falling from the sky to be turned into light, season-appropriate snow, the sky has instead chosen to unleash a slow, steady drizzle of near-freezing rain to make post-plague life that much more pleasant. As a result, the streets are largely empty, even here in the seemingly ever-bustling neighborhood of East Harlem. It is probably because it seems the kind of night that only those who /have/ to be out actually are.

Which is a pretty sort of opening, but doesn't really explain why Trib is currently standing out in the chilly drizzle. Dressed in a surplus army jacket over a grey hoodie with the hood pulled up and jeans that hug his legs as they tumble towards heavy work boots, the boxer doesn't seem to feel the chill beyond a hunch of his massive shoulders. The man he's listening to seems less hood-rat, dressed in a suit and trenchcoat and carrying a smart umbrella. The two converse in rapid-fire Spanish, a conversation that doesn't seem to be making the big man happy in any way, judging by the ever-darkening expression on his face.

Cold, Tess can handle cold. The wet is a bigger problem, and she's currently trying to find some kind of shelter while she walks around. Her clothes sound... strangely crispy when she moves, like there's some kind of potato chip layer that she's breaking by moving around. She turns around a corner and notices the conversation. She pauses, briefly, kind of surprised to find people talking outside in this weather, and starts to move on.

At the moment, a short brown bird is trying to get through the rain, using a mixture of walking on foot, and flying, stopping to observe the conversation. Rasputin isn't too well versed in Spanish, but can understand bits of what they're saying, until ze spots Tess, chirping into a voice. Though Rasputin's form is different, hir voice is the same as usual, with the same enthusiasm ze always has. "Hey, Tess! Don't be alarmed, it's just Rasputin-bird!".

The conversation is winding down by the time the girl passes, and it ends with a couple of heated curses (or at least, they sound like curses) from Trib, who throws his hands in the air before he lowers one to offer a time-honored salute of disapproval. When the other man smiles and shrugs, the boxer offers one more swear. "Chiselin' motherfucker." And that, it seems, is the end of /that/, as the big man stalks off, following the same path as the girl. When he pulls up alongside the teenager, he offers her a sidelong look. "You want some advice, kid?" he asks, eyes narrowing. "Don't fuckin' make no fuckin' deals in this neighborhood, unles you like gettin' fucked by the universe." The sound of the voice coming from...nowhere?...has him suddenly looking up to glare suspiciously into the sky.

Giving a homeless teen advice not to make deals. Okay. Tess glances up at the guy, ignoring Rasputin a little bit. "Don't have anything to make deals with, sir." She overhears Rasputin, and it seems Trib did as well, "That's Rasputin, he's a mutant with some kind of possession power. Last time I met him he was a cat." Then to Rasputin, "Hey Raspy."

"Hello!". Rasputin chirps upwards, smiling, as much as a bird can smile, anyways. When Trib looks up to the sky, ze walks over to his foot to show where ze is, chirping again. "Down here! Nice to meet you, I'm Rasputin.". Rasputin then looks back to Tess. "How have you been, Tess?".

"Everybody's got something someone wants," Trib grunts, looking over the homeless girl with a smirky sort of cant to the line of his mouth. "Just make sure you get yours, first." He nods, satisfied with this piece of advice, and looks down at his feet to regard the small brown bird. Then he stoops, offering a finger of his half-hand as a perch. "You got to make better friends," he rumbles to the bird. "Your homie just fuckin' outed you to a stranger. People wind up in cages that way." This comes with a meaningful look in Tess' direction.

Tess shrugs to Trib, "When I first met him that was the first thing he told me, I didn't get the impression he wanted it kept secret. I'm not his homie anyway, we met once before. And I guess I've been fine, Raspy." She considers the other words he said, and replies after a while. "I'm not going be a whore, if that's what you're getting at."

"I'm not one to hide, which is why I was fine just shouting out like that.". Rasputin's smile doesn't falter, as ze explains. "Human body or not, I'm still a person. Besides, if you're speaking about the fight club, I don't think any of those would /want/ me.". Ze's smile begins to falter when Tess responds to Trib. "Uh, I'm pretty sure she's not old enough for that, and it's still illegal, so...".

Trib seems a bit amazed at the response from the other two, his eyebrows lifting briefly before his mouth twists irritably. "There's more than fuckin' dirty cops to worry about," he says to Rasputin. "But I guess it's your own fuckin' business. You got a fuckin' near-perfect way to hide, anyways." He looks over to Tess, and wrinkles his nose. "If I meant you should whore, I'd have fuckin' said it," he informs the girl. "'Ain't no shame in whorin'. Classiest guy I ever met is a fuckin' whore." He rolls a shoulder. "People need other shit than pussy. There's lots of other ways to get yourself fucked."

Tess shrugs as Trib denies that was his idea, and doesn't really seem comfortable with the other conversation. "People suggested it to me, legality be damned. Generally they suggested it while offering to be my first customer, but I'm not going to do that. Whether there's anything wrong with it or not." She shrugs and then tells Trib, "Yeah, I figured that out around the time I became homeless."

Rasputin pauses at Trib, walking towards Tess. "I'd say it's more than near-perfect, as long as I don't talk, no one suspects a thing! Though, when I do talk, well..people usually question their sanity.". Ze then begins speaking towards Tess, changing what noise is turned into vocals to make it closer to Tess. "I trade information for cash. It's my thing, really. You could try it, if you had anything worthwhile.".

"Should try jumpin' into a parrot or cockapoo or some shit," Trib says, bobbing his head. "One of them birds that can talk. Not so fuckin' obvious." He seems full of good ideas, today, and it's definitely lightening his mood a bit. The line of his mouth tips at one corner, and he exhales a noise that might be a laugh at Tess' answer. "Yeah, it's a hard fuckin' lesson," he says, and glances over his shoulder at the space the man with the umbrella formerly occupied. "It don't always take, the first time."

Tess listens to the two and shrugs. "I don't know how to do that. All I can do is sing and kick a ball." She might just be able to do the latter well, and she's hiding the whole 'freeze things' bit. Unlike Rasputin, she isn't so open about that. Despite, you know, being quite frosty.

"I'm usually a cat actually, but my cat body is at home. Came out for a stroll, and now there's all this dang rain.". Rasputin says, smiling, directed at Trib. "But, sometimes I want to be a monkey, so I can pick things up.". Ze then turns to Tess. "I'm sure there's other things you're good at! Like, I'm good with computers even though my bodies usually prevent me from using them well. Something from my past life, I guess.".

Trib grunts at the idea of Rasputin being a cat, and purses his lips. "Cats are okay," he decides. "But I guess monkey hands /would/ be more fuckin' useful." He considers that, letting the other two talk while he thinks. It doesn't seem like he's listening, until he speaks up in his Jersey rumble. "Tweety's got it. Just got to find your thing." The corner of his mouth turns upward in a imitation of a half-smile. "Whatever the fuck it is."

Tess nods, a light shrug again. "I hope I will." She pauses, then adds. "I met someone who thinks she can set me up making a living out of kicking balls. That'd be nice." The way she says that it's almost like she mentally follows it up with 'which is why it won't happen'

"Like a soccer player?". Rasputin pauses, thinking about various ways that could be a living. "Or an enforcer..? If she means testicles, that is. But I think soccer player would be better.". Ze then turns to Trib. "Oh yeah, really need hands. My pal told me I could maybe become a bat, but, I think that's less inconspicious, so...yeah.".

"Hey, this is New York," Trib says, lifting a shoulder. "There's people who make a fuckin' livin' pickin' up dog shit, so anything's possible." He wrinkles his nose, then, and glare up at the sky. "I'm gettin' fuckin wet and cold," he announces to no one in particular. "I'm goin' the fuck home." He lifts his hand to offer a wave of farewell, and turns it into a leveling of his finger at Tess. "Go to a fuckin' shelter," he says. "You can't earn no fuckin' ball-kickin' money if you freeze to death." To Rasputin, the finger wags, a bit. "See you around." Is it a threat? A promise? Who can tell, with Trib turning away and stalking off without another word, flipping his hood over his head as he crosses the wet street and heads for the subway.

Tess isn't afraid of freezing to death, but isn't gonna tell Trib that. She shrugs and tells Rasputin, "Like a soccer player." She goes to move again, the crispy sounds returning with it. "Fucking rain." She watches as Trib leaves, but doesn't bother saying anything else to him.

Rasputin simply replies to Trib, still with a smile. "You two!". Ze then turns to Tess. "Well, I know you can survive in the cold, so, well, see you around too!.". Rasputin then looks up to the sky, flaps hir wings, and flies off, trying to beat the rain.