ArchivedLogs:Terrible Plights

From X-Men: rEvolution
Jump to navigationJump to search
Terrible Plights
Dramatis Personae

K.C., Lucien, Rasa

2016-02-28


"We train for this."

Location

<NYC> Tompkins Square Park - East Village


Small but popular, this tree-lined park is a perfect centerpiece to the eclectic neighborhood it resides in. Home to a number of playgrounds and courts from handball to basketball, it also houses a dog park and chess tables, providing excellent space for people watching -- especially during its frequent and often eccentric festivals, from Wigstock to its yearly Allen Ginsberg tribute Howl festival.

It's bright and clear today, a pleasantly mild afternoon that's brought plenty of people out to enjoy the sunshine in the city. In one segment of the park a temporarily fenced-in area has been set up, a tent erected, a banner hung from an information table -- NEW LEASH ON LIFE, the banner reads. The area behind it has attracted a number of people to stop. Gawk. Coo. Take their time squeeing over the dogs romping in the enclosure -- the kennels behind hold mostly cats, though there are a few other animals (a rabbit, a couple guinea pigs) in the mix as well.

The literature at the table explains that the rescue group was formed by a combined effort of many existing organizations in the metropolitan area, working together to help animals orphaned after the zombie plague. At the edge of the fence, one skinny teenager in baggy jeans and baggy grey sweatshirt is just bringing a wiry-haired brown and white dog of indeterminate breed back into the fence, scratching between his flopped-over ears as she closes the gate behind him and unhooks his New Leash On Life leash from his harness. "Go run be free," she tells the dog, who -- just plops himself down at her feet, leaning into the petting with a happy thump of tail on the ground. Thumpthumpthump.

Lucien is wandering over from the direction of the chess tables across the park -- busy, today, they are all occupied with games and a cluster of spectators to boot. Casually dressed -- if far less so than the sweatshirt clad teen -- in well-tailored jeans and green button-down, slim-fit black leather jacket over top. He has a slim gunmetal-grey thermos in hand, sipping slowly from it as he drifts towards the yips and yaps of the enclosure. His eyes linger on the dog K.C. is petting, a faint brief twitch at one corner of his mouth. "It seems he has you quite stuck." His voice is mild, a soft francophone accent tinging his words.

Rasa is on the opposite side of the enclosure, inside, kneeling down and getting mud on hir knees. Ze is petting a furry little mutt who is quite pleased to roll around on her back while belly rubs are liberally applied to her belly by fuzzy fingers that match the dog's fur. Ze turns to look over hir shoulder when a familiar voice catches hir attention. Ze tugs gloves back on hir hands and adjusts the niqab around hir face, ensuring that it is still covering hir features. Ze stands up and wanders over, subtly shifting under hir veil to something that might be more recognizable. "It seems a terrible plight. Are you going to be okay?"

K.C. continues very thoroughly applying scritches to the mutt's head when he does not move from her foot. One hand, then the other. Her brows knit together, eyes fixing down on the dog -- only lifting again when Lucien approaches. She doesn't immediately reply -- just looks Lucien over, then looks down again at the dog. Up at Lucien. Down at the dog. "Yeah, I, yeah, well, he's asking for petting -- you have to pet. That's the rules. I don't make the rules." Her head shakes, quick and abrupt, at Rasa's question. "We train for this."

Lucien's eyebrows lift, at this answer. The next smile that touches his lips actually stays, a small quick curl accompanied by a brief huff of laughter. A faint wisp of amusement lightens hs tone. "I suppose I had never before given much thought to what sort of training volunteers received before being hurled into --" His hand tips out towards the waggy-tailed mutt. "Such dire conditions. It is good to know you are well prepared."

"Good, good, I like to hear that people are properly trained and keeping the rules. Do you mind if I?" Rasa kneels down again, looking at the puppy and extending a hand toward the little one's nose for acceptance. "Hello, Lucien. Are you here to take home a furry friend, or were you looking for something more feathered or scaled?" Ze glances up at the older man, hir smile visible under the thin veil.

The dog's tail keeps wagging, nose pressing forward to sniff at Rasa's hand. Lopsided ears quirking up as he stretches out towards the Potential New Pettings. K.C. lifts her own hand off his head, fingers tapping absently, flicking restlessly at the air in front of her. "Dire -- dire. Dire. Yeah, it's dire here. They all need homes. That's dire. It's really -- really. But we're trained. Lots of training. How to pet. That's important. I don't think he minds." Her words kind of run together, monotone voice not doing a particularly good job of providing inflection to distinguish one sentence from the next. "No birds today. Are you looking." K.C. might be talking to either of them -- she's only /looking/ at the dog.

"Ah --" Lucien's eyes widen very faintly at the sound of his name. His weight shifts in against the fence as his gaze narrows on Rasa, straightening only when the temporary fencing starts to wobble. He shakes his head, looking away from Rasa down to the dog. "I -- was not looking. To adopt, that is. Only killing time. I -- do not know that I would --" There's a very faint hesitation, a small twitch at his smile as he looks at the dog, "make the best of parents. Were you feeling inclined towards fur yourself, Rasa?"

"Your siblings seem fine. You are far too hard on yourself." Rasa uses both hands for a while before pulling away and standing upright once more. "It is still winter, so technically, I am still inclined toward fur, but that doesn't mean anything in relation to a companion. which is what you are referring to." Ze stutters toward the end, turning a little pink in embarrassment. "I'd have to check with the twins first. Don't suppose you have an otter? Seems like the best pet, but probably not an actual companion animal. I don't really have a concrete place of my own, so I can't just say for myself. Ahh. Many apologies. Should I not be here for I am only looking to pet them?"

"Otter. Otter, otter, what otter. Illegal. Can't keep an otter. Nonsense. Not allowed. Against the rules." K.C. shakes her head again, sharp. "Not allowed." She takes a step back, away from both Rasa and the dog, pivoting on a heel to face the others. Still not really looking /at/ them so much as past Lucien, brows still creased. "They like petting. /He's/ not petting. Not even petting." Her chin lifts just slightly with this, jaw setting a touch firmer than before. Helpfully she also offers: "We have pamphlets. How to be a good parent."

"I would think B most inclined towards metal in hir companions." Lucien's brows hitch up as K.C. looks -- past him. /He/ looks to her, and then to the dog, a touch of bemusement widening his eyes. "Ah -- so I am not. Forgive my impudence. This fellow is being such a good host --" He reaches over the fence to take over where Rasa leaves off, scritching between the mutt's ears, "and I am offering nothing in return."

His smile vanishes quite abruptly, though, expression shuttering into a swift neutrality as he looks back to Rasa. One eyebrow lifts. Tone very mild: "/Do/ they? Well. I am not my siblings' father. Regardless, I imagine they are a good deal more self-sufficient than a pet."

"I highly doubt that you have ever donated genetic material to a canine either. Nor anyone else here -- that I care to know about. It doesn't disqualify them from raising a puppy or kitten." Rasa stuffs hir hands into hir pockets as ze lowers hir head. "I apologize. I don't mean to give you a hard time, I just found that a strange reason, all things considered." Ze gives a small smile. "Oh, no, that's okay, I don't actually need an otter. It was just a pleasant thought, given how playful they are. Anyway. You are correct, they are against the rules. I will not actually be seeking one out."

"Pleasant thought," K.C. mutters to herself, shaking her head. "Blood transfusion wouldn't work -- probably wouldn't work. Would that work? I don't think -- I don't think. Would that work? No. No. Why would you donate that? Have to get it from a dog. You say weird things."

Lucien straightens, eying Rasa steadily as ze speaks. For a moment, at least. He cuts in halfway through her apology, quiet and clipped as well. "It is a amazing," his blank expression hasn't really shifted, though there's a small ripple of tension hardening his posture, "how that veil just does not stop your foot from heading deeper and deeper into your mouth." He plucks his phone from his pocket, head inclining to K.C. as he turns away. "Good day."

"My foot..." Rasa mutters to hirself and moves to start exiting the enclosure. "I'm fairly sure I could swallow my whole ankle if I really tried." Ze inhales deeply and raises hir voice. "Not sure why you're so hung up on parenting, especially as I know your family, but I apologize for bringing it up at all." Ze directs the words at Lucien's departing back. "I also apologize for following such a strange line of thought to its conclusion. I'm going to take off, so... stick around if you want to." Once outside, ze lifts a gloved hand to wave good bye.

K.C. stays behind as the others exit, fingers twisting and fluttering in the air. "Ankle. Swallow your whole ankle. Awkward. Really awkward. Kind of uncomfortable." She closes the gate again behind Rasa as ze leaves, nudging back the dog who rears up to rest his paws on the fence. "Sera," she mutters to herself. "Take off, okay, yeah, okay, bye."

Lucien doesn't respond. His attention is buried in his phone, only the slightest hitch in his step at the others' words as he heads back off towards the distant chess tables.