ArchivedLogs:This Is Halloween

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This Is Halloween
Dramatis Personae

Isra, Ion, Micah, Daniel Ketch

31 October 2014


At least in this city...

Location

<NYC> Lower East Side


Historically characterized by crime and immigrant families crammed into cramped tenement buildings, the Lower East Side is often identified with its working-class roots. Today, it plays host to many of New York's mutant poor, although even here they are still often forced into hiding.

The night has grown chilly and the sky dense with low clouds that glow with sickly borrowed light. All Hallow's Eve it may still be, but the younger celebrants have for the most part been tucked away and the older ones found parties to attend. Small clusters of teenagers, some with costumes but most without, amble down the street at odd intervals, but for the most part it looks like any other Friday night. A tall figure draped in a black cloak emerges from Evolve. A generous hood keeps their face in shadow, but Isra might still be recognized from afar by her unusual gait. She pauses for a moment at the corner and gathers her garment closer when a stray breeze billows it slightly open to expose jet black skin that seems to glimmer in the streetlight.

Vrrrrrrrrrrrroom! It's pretty hard to /miss/ Ion veering around the corner -- between the telltale roar of his engine and the pale strings of plasticky skull-lights glowing on his shiny black-and-chrome Harley chopper (its vanity plate says WIRED) he is easy to notice. He /was/ heading /past/ Evolve, down the street to other pursuits but the familiar figure of Isra has the motorbike cutting a very illegal U-turn to whirl back around, pulling up beside her with a grin that looks a whole lot more /grin/-y today due to the skull-like face paint painted on him. Outside of the paint his attire is as per usual; stompy boots, black kutte with MMMC patches (the back features a large inhuman skull-and-crossbones, fanged and horned, though in lieu of actual crossbones there is a pair of jagged lightning bolts), ridiculously extravagant diamond-encrusted watch. "Eyyyyy, hermanita, you looking particularly freakish tonight." /He/ says it like it's a compliment.

Micah, on the contrary, is both headed /toward/ Evolve and dressed /bright/. He is wrapped in a shiny gold-yellow robe (fortunately quite a warm one in this weather), hair spiked into a more /intentional/ mess than usual and thoroughly coated in gold glittery spray. The rest of him has been liberally glittered in a way that is likely to have him finding glitter everywhere he goes for the next week. Apparently prepared for the forecast during costume design, he has a glittery gold umbrella in hand to ward off the occasional sprinkles that still fall from the dark clouded skies. The figures (or the motorcycle engine, or Ion's distinctive voice) catch his attention, drawing his path away from the door. "Evenin'," he greets simply as he nears the pair, with the addition of a friendly smile.

The sound of an approaching motorcycle gives away Daniel a few moments before he and his ride, a 2015 Harley v-rod muscle, appear. He quietly steps off his bike and moves past the crowd to lean near the entrance to Evolve, fishing a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his telltale leather jacket and lighting it up, before bringing the back of his hand across his puffy red eyes.

Isra's stance stiffens momentarily when the bike passes her, but recognition comes quickly and the growl in her throat dies as quickly as it began. When the bike pulls up alongside her, she throws back her hood. Her answering grin, though perhaps a bit weaker than usual, make her fangs gleam white against skin that definitely does shimmer as she moves. "And I looked, and behold a pale horse," she intones, her dual voices making the quotation all the more chilling, "and his name that sat on him was Death, and Hell followed with him. Well done, Sir--and you as well." The last addition is to Micah as he joins them. "I hadn't meant to costume at all, but I was up for new colors, and Tag wanted to experiment. I'll need to throw on something a little less distracting before Monday. Have your respective evenings been fruitful?"

"/Ey/-o, Cyborg, /shit/ you looking fine." Ion jerks his chin upward when Micah appears, his own bright-bright grin stretching even wider. The roar of his bike has dropped to a quiet purr as he sits upon it, idling by the corner. "Your little girlpup, she paint me up huh?" He gestures to his facepaint with a waggle of fingers, black nailpolish (already chipped, though only applied today) on them. "And Hell it sure as fuck gonna be following me soon enough, Kay he /war/ and we got a teeny-tiny-tiny Famine and Pestilence. Works for B, she /always/ hungry. -- what you be, glitterbug?" He looks over to Micah curiously. "Is like the fucking /sun/. -- you want to see Death, though," he adds this with a /fierce/ sharp smile to Isra, "you swing by the house, we /all/ four horsemen gonna be throwing do-o-own to/night/. You in?"

"That's not creepy at all," Micah teases, though with a legitimate shiver at the recitation. "Thanks, it's mostly Jax's doin'. Spence was bein' Jack Frost this year an' we usually try t'theme up with 'im if we can for takin' 'im 'round trick-or-treatin'. Better bet Jax jumped on the chance t'douse the both of us in glitter. /He/ was covered in feathers. Uh...Sandman." The clarification takes a moment to come as he realises it might be needed, a hand gesturing at his torso. "B does a good job with some make-up, for sure." His gaze shifts from Isra to Ion and back. "Ah, wasn't sure y'all were still doin' that t'night. Y'got enough healers set up, right?"

"And now,' said the unknown, 'farewell kindness, humanity, and gratitude! Farewell to all the feelings that expand the heart! I have been heaven's substitute to recompense the good - now the god of vengeance yields to me his power to punish the wicked." Daniel calls over quietly, though his quote isn't biblical. He takes another drag from his cigarette before releasing smoke and moving back over to his bike. He nods lightly towards Micah, the only person here he recognizes.

"I admit, my first guess was going to be the King in Yellow." Isra shifts half a step--digitigrade legs making the movement eerily fluid--to get a better look at Micah's outfit. "I thought that the Sandman was a bit more dark and brooding than glittery and cheerful. It is eye-catching and lovely, nevertheless; I am sorry to have missed the whole troupe." Her tail twitches uneasily beneath the hem of her cloak and her pointed ears swivel toward the other motorcyclist nearby as he speaks. To Ion she smiles broader, a stronger shadow now of her usual self. "I was headed that way, in fact, though I am under physician's orders not to engage in anything too 'strenuous.' Would facing off with the Four Horseman qualify as /strenuous,/ you think?" Her mirth fades when the stranger nods at Micah, and she shoots him a long, appraising stare, green eyes unblinking.

"Sandman, what, you make good dreams happen?" Ion's eyebrows lift, a crooked slant to the smile he gives Micah. "Certainly given me some -- ehhh?" His head turns, glancing towards Daniel though the apparent non-sequitur of a quote just makes him look blank. "Whozzat, someone you know? Maybe," he suggests brightly to the others, "he been hittin' the bottle already. Is good night for that too, huh?" He squints up an eye to peer uuuuup at Isra. "Why you benched, now, huh? Bad time for it, I think we got /work/ to do -- /'sides/ from just kicking your /ass/ for that comment, woman. I'll /stren/ you right here and now. -- Healers?" The fact that he looks at Micah blankly /too/ may not be the most reassuring to worried-parent nerves. "{Could be maybe?} All us, we can take it rough though, si?"

"Ha, no. Rather a bit too cheerful for for /that/, I'd think," Micah answers Isra's guess. "Dif'rent Sandman. /Rise of the Guardians/...kids movie, animated. It's pretty cute. Jax was the Tooth Fairy." Ion earns a nod for his dream comment. "That's the idea." And a /blush/ for the rest of it, visible even through the glitter covering Micah's skin. Fortunately, Isra provides distraction, furrowing his brow in concern. "I /would/ say that'd be strenuous. You gonna be okay, sugar? The twins wasn't too clear on what happened after y'was taken t'the Clinic that day. I mean...not t'be too forward, but I worry. Sorta m'job." His eyes widen at Ion's blank look. "Joshua or someone? Maybe I should come." See? Worry. He's good at it. He does give Daniel a return nod of greeting. "Daniel...sort of a new acquaintance." It seems like the time for introductions, so he gestures to his companions each in turn. "Isra an' Ion."

"Can call me Dan." Daniel says with a light nod. His gaze moves over to Ion, "Mean me? Nah. Sober. Just spent all day talking to my sister." It looks more like the little guy has been crying than drinking. There's another drag from the cigarette before he drops it and crushes it under his boot. "Been one of those days. If there's a fight, I wouldn't mind seeing the horsemen face the rider. Though I'm not accountable for his actions."

"Ah, I see, I was thinking of the graphic novel." Isra inclines her head slightly. "I've not seen the film, but I'd like to see photos sometime. There will be a healer on hand, no need to change your plans on our account. As for me...I am only temporarily indisposed, and the cause is rather a long story that I'd rather not tell on a street corner if I can avoid it, if it must do it at all." Her cloak shifts in an odd way--her wings re-settling across her shoulders, though it may be hard to tell without familiarity with her largely hidden physique. "Good evening to you, as well," this last to Daniel, though she does not sound particularly charmed and she still watches him warily. "I tend to suspect 'the rider' is not ready to take on these particular harbingers of Armageddon. Few are, and this is not casual spar."

"Just so long as the cause ain't /mourning/, hermanita. Your boy? {Our brother?} He'll be home before long, you see. World can't keep someone like him down." Ion /finally/ kills the engine on his bike, though he stays perched atop it. Once again the skull-makeup makes his grin look even grinnier. "Rider, who ride? I ride. Us we'll throw down with /any/-damn-body though /woo/-boy I would not put no /money/ on nobody trying to take on War. {My brother, he /fierce/ as hell} and he burn twice so hot."

Micah chuckles, nodding at Isra. “That would be rather in an opposite direction for clothing...colours, at least. Robes an' messy hair'd work. Just gotta darken it up a fair sight.” Another nod serves to acquiesce to Isra's preference. “S'long as you're okay. No need t'tell what y'don't wanna. Let us know if y'need any help, though, alright?” There is a tension about his mouth as Ion talks about Kay fighting again. “Y'all /sure/ y'got enough healers lined up?”

Daniel moves to take a seat on his bike. He listens to Ion and nods a few times before tugging on a pair of leather gloves he's fished from his pocket. Though something begins to change, his facial features briefly look pained before there's a flames start to spring up at his neck and around his face. It only takes a few seconds for the transformation to fully eat away at Daniel's flesh, leaving a creature composed entirely of flames and bones seated atop the bike. The creature in the seat (presumably the rider) turns his gaze from Micah, to Isra, only to have it settle on Ion.

"I do understand and appreciate the concern," Isra reassures Micah. One of her wings--its shape quite obvious even though it remains draped in fabric--unfolds and brushes his arm. "We know how get hold if you if you're needed. It'll be fine." To Ion, she offers a sharp grin. "My boy," she says, the rumbling bass of her lower voice drowning out the higher alto, "and his current disposition, is also something that needs discussing. Perhaps after the fighting's--" She interrupts herself when Daniel catches fire, cocking her head quizzically and dropping her center of gravity. A stillness comes over her. "—done...?"

"I'm thinking it needs more than discussing, ey-ah? Also anyway it's /Halloween/ dog, that's /when/ the freaks come out to play, is a shame he ain't -- playin' none. Maybe I go, bring him a little Halloween /candy/, si?" It /may/ be coincidence that Ion is looking at Micah when he says this last -- maybe, maybe not. "Sure I sure, Micahbot, we all been /pretty/ good at --" Here Ion's words cut off -- into a sudden sharp /whoop/, fist pumping the air at Daniel's transformation like /hell-yeah/. "Ah-hah-hah-hah-/hah/! You seen, you seen /that/? Freaks come /out/, yo. Oh-/ho/ oh-/hah/, ese, that's /some/ fucking trick you tricked out there." His gravel-deep voice is lightened with pure delighted /laughter/ as he stares at Daniel.

At first, Micah relaxes into the wing-touch, leaning toward Isra slightly. The /familiarity/ of that particular sensation soon draws a pained expression, teeth meeting with lower lip. He nods yet again, this time in firm agreement with Ion. "You got a way we can do it without causin' 'im trouble, I'm in." Well, then there are people catching on fire. Micah blinks a few times at Daniel. Blink. Blink. "Huh. He did say people meltin'." For all the being a flaming skeleton, the other man /seems/ okay enough. Ion's delight actually has the redhead suppressing a /giggle/, of all reactions to be having to such a sight.

"There is a certain rumor..." starts the Rider, his voice is much more of a low hiss, "that a bed of snakes hides in this Eden. Perhaps you know more than myself?" there is a slight cant to his head as his words finish, looking at on until he finishes. Isra's movements do catch his attention though, and his gaze settles on her for the moment, clearly not having anything else to say.

When the Rider fails to attack them--or crash through Evolve's storefront on his motorcycle--Isra resumes a less defensive stance, though she has freed her wings from the cloak and tucked the fabric back between them. The massive wing membranes, finally visible, bear geometric patterns in holographic silver and blue. "I shall contribute, as well," she tells Ion, "though I must also trouble you to carry a message to him. As I said, matters to discuss later." To the Rider's question she gives at first only a rueful, weary look. "I'm sure I do not know what you mean, but the City is rife with rumor and you are a long, long way from Eden." She quirks one hairless eyebrow ridge at Micah. "You expected this?"

Ion's whooping laughter only increases with this question. "/Eden/, what rock you smoking, motherfucker? This place ain't nothing /but/ snakes and they sure-fuck don't bother no /hiding/. You don't got at least a little /venom/ to you, this shit-hole gonna eat you the fuck /alive/. I know rumors. I know /all/ the rumors. And every-damn-person I love got some snake in them."

"Eden?" One of Micah's eyebrows lofts skeptically to match his tone. "Here? Sugar, I think y'might be lost." His head shakes in answer to Isra's question. "No...definitely not that. S'just a comment he made before actually has some /sense/ to it now." Hazel eyes drag back over to Ion. "Just let us know when an' how we can help."

"Then this warning is yours. Should I discover the blood of innocent stains your hands, vengeance will come." The Rider turns his attention towards the bike he is on, quickly starting it. He makes no move to say anything else on the topic of Eden, or anything else for that, before he shifts the bike into gear and heads off towards Brooklyn.

"I count myself warned." Isra's tone is dry, almost bored. Her eyes follow the Rider until he is out of sight. "Though vengeance has a long list to work through yet. Well, then." Her wings shiver as she tucks them back under the cloak. "That...fits the holiday, at least. At any rate, shall we?"

"Ah-hah-hah-/hah/." Ion's amusement is not fading. "Some-one-body he take this holiday /way/ the fuck serious, he go /all/ out yeah?" He throws up devil horns to Daniel's retreating back before dropping his fist to the handle of his motorcycle. "Help? Ay, well, I think he maybe he'll want a /meal/ you know? Boy look like he ain't eat in ten /life/times. Probably wouldn't say /no/ a conjugal visits either." But at the moment there are Priorities. He stretches over his handlebars to offer Isra a fistbump. "I think we /will/. Gonna be /somebody/ blood staining /my/ hand that's for /damn/sure."

The blinking returns at the warning. "Well. Thanks. For that." Micah's expression turns quizzical as the man on the bike rides off, head shaking a bit before looking back to the others once more. "I figured that part, sugar, just needed t'know if you'll need packets t'take with you or..." His words trail off into a sudden /fiery/ blush as Ion continues his explanation. "Um. Right. Enjoy your...thing. Try not t'kill each other, okay? Kinda like y'all in one piece."