ArchivedLogs:Unsolved

Unsolved
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Flicker, Hercules, Jack
In Absentia	2015-10-16 "Just can't trust vampires."
Location <NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side
Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to plentiful artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse. It's not quite late enough in Evolve for the nightclub crowd to be trickling in yet, but late enough that the dinner crowd has left -- it makes for an almost peaceful nighttime atmosphere. Almost. If you can ignore the omnipresent encroaching /city/ of it all, the wail of sirens in the not-too-distance, the raised voices of some kind of fight? /very/ heated argument? in the street outside. In here, though, the cafe has classical music playing quietly through its speakers, only a quarter of its tables occupied. Near the door, /one/ of those tables is occupied by a shaggy-haired scruffy-beareded young man who, in his blue-and-white striped tee, scuffed old brown corduroys, Vans sneakers, would be fairly nondescript -- if not for the /enormous/ clawed batlike wings that spike above his head. Seated on a backless stool rather than a chair, he's flexing and resettling his wings behind himself -- they're very /colourful/, painted up in a overlapping red-orange-yellow pattern that looks like a vibrant of autumn leaves, talons a textured bark-brown. There's a laptop in front of him together with a large cup of cider, an also-large bowl of chili. "I should just have some kind of stock response for this bullshit now. Or like an is-this-offensive checklist to send people?" He's kind of rolling his eyes while he looks at his computer. Across from him, Flicker has a hot cocoa and a salad heavily laden with nuts and quinoa. He is dressed in convertible hiking pants, a quick-dry t-shirt, a lightweight sweatshirt draped over the back of his chair. His mechanical arm is colorfully decorated as well, though his is in stark geometric patterning, black and shades of red colorblocked down its length. His eyes are focused down on his screen, a map overlaid with brightly glowing blue and green -- though as he taps at his screen the blue is slowly but surely flaring red and turning grey. "If they even need to ask, it's /probably/ offensive. Every Halloween, I swear." "Alright, here's Evolve," Jack, invisible as always, remarks as he steps into Evolve with one of his classmates in tow. Dressed in old jeans and an equally old gray hoodie, he's keeping his head down to keep anyone from seeing under his hood. At least until the door closes behind them. Herc asked to be shown the cafe Jack was giving such good reviews so the two of them went into the city. The invisible teen starts to say something else when familiar sights catch his attention. "C'mon," he says, approaching Dusk and Flicker's table. "Hey," he greets, glancing curiously at the map and then back to make sure Hercules is following. The large teen that follows on Jack's heels certainly matches his name in brawn, the man dressed in blue jeans and a tight fitting, black tshirt. He nods a few times as Jack points out the various sights, his words are few and sparing. Inside, Hercules seems to relax a little, and the people inside provide a colourful distraction from the city outside. He stops a step behind Jack when Dusk annd Flicker's table is approached, and he makes a point of not looking at what may be on their screens. "Why do I even have a Facebook?" Dusk scrubs a hand against his cheek. 'Just here to make me angry' "I swear." The emphasis put on his signing shows a glint of sharp fangs behind his lips -- though a moment later they're far more pronounced as a wide smile brightens his expression. "Yo! Jack." He leans over, offering out a fist to the invisible teenager. "Sup, man, how's it going, who's your friend?" One of the long sharp claws atop his wings flicks towards Hercules in indication. "Make it easier for the government to keep tabs on you," Flicker answers deadpan, not looking up from his screen until all the blue nearby has been cleared. He frowns just after this, though. "/Hmph/. How am I not in range of Evolve I'm /sitting in/ Evolve. Stupid drift." He sets the phone down on the table, glaring at it briefly as though this would help matters, and looks up at the others with a cheerful smile. "Heya!" Jack's smile is unseen but he bumps his fist against Dusk's happily. "Hey, Dusk. Flicker," he greets. "This guy's Hercules. He's one of my newer classmates. He wanted to see Evolve after I told him how great it was so," he shrugs one shoulder. "Herc, meet Dusk and Flicker. Both awesome," he says, gesturing with an empty sleeve. "Something up online?" he asks after a moment. Hercules looks from Dusk to Flicker when they are introduced, and the large teen smiles. "Nice to meet you two.", he says cheerfully, offering up a hand. "Evolve is pretty cool. I like how people can just relax and forget about the outside for a while. I hear the nightclub's even better, but it'll be a couple years before I can see that, I guess." He falls silent then, looking to Jack again. "Did you want something, Jack? I'm going to go grab a coffee." He glances at the two others, "Would either of you like something, since I'm headed over to the bar?" "Pretty sure they have a fucking ankle bracelet and a probation officer for that, dude, they don't need my /Facebook/." Dusk snorts, grinning across the table at Flicker. "The facebook's how they keep tabs on my /friends/." He cranes his neck to look over at Flicker's screen, peering at the scanner. "Drift's hella shitty downtown, if you turn off your --" Though here he pauses halfway through dispensing advice. Looks at the field of grey Flicker just cleared. His brows raise and, instead, he pulls out his own phone to open up Ingress. A moment later the closest grey portals start turning blue again. His head shakes to Jack. "Nah. The usual. People being wrong on the Internet. I swear-to-fucking-God Halloween time it's like free fucking /reign/ for some motherfuckers to break out the offensive bullshit. We haven't even gotten past /blackface/, I sure as hell can't explain to these assholes why it's not okay to wear --" He's gesturing towards Flicker's mechanical arm, "shit like accessibility aids as a costume or fake being a mutant." He leans forward, propping an elbow on the table and picking up his sider. "Hercules. Yo. I'm good. Thanks, though. And yeah this place /is/ pretty rad. School-friend? Cool. New to New York or just the school?" Flicker lifts a fist to his lips, stifling a chuckle at Dusk's reply, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. He snatches his phone back up a moment later. "Oh you /don't/ even." Circular bursts of red explosion spread across his screen, numbers drifting up when they hit the newly-captured blue portals. "That was low, man." His more colorful hand is thrown out to Dusk. "Just can't trust vampires." Still tapping at his phone, he shifts in his seat to better face the two other Xavierites. "The club's got great dancing. It was pretty funny when Shane opened it. Can't go in till you're eighteen, so there was all kinds of rigamarole for a while with what he was and wasn't allowed to do during operating hours till his birthday earlier this year. Easier now that he's actually allowed into his own business, though." "I'm good, Herc. Thanks though," Jack replies. "I hear the nightclub up there is pretty cool too," he agrees, glancing up to the ceiling as if trying to see through it. He shakes it off though, reaching up to make sure his hood is still up. "Drift...?" he's confused, picturing the Fast and Furious movies Kaine showed him. Dusk's explanation gets a sigh from Jack. "Oh, those kinda assholes. Yeah...got some of them even up at the school," he says. "Usually ignored 'em back in Jersey...easier just to focus on collecting the free food people were handing out," he says with an unseen smirk. "Okay...calling candy food is a little generous but it was edible and better than dumpster dives for awhile," he adds. "I'm from Astoria, Queens. My home used to be just around the corner from Mount Sinai Hospital. So, I know parts of New York City like the back of my hand. New to the school, I don't know where I'd be or what I'd be doing if they hadn't gone public." The large teen rubs his cheek a little. "As for costumes, yeah, some of them are all kinds of insulting. Though, on the other hand, by playing at being a mutant, they open themselves to the violence and discrimination real mutants face every day. Maybe if a few more of them got beat up, they'd start to smarten up a little?" He looks between Flicker and Dusk, a smile forming. "I recognize that game. Never got into it though, my phone's not new enough." At Flicker's words about the nightclub, Hercules' grin broadens. "I... I turned eighteen a couple weeks ago." He looks to Jack and grins, "Yeah, a chocolate bar might not be really nutritious, it at least can fill your stomach a little, and it tastes good. Though, lots of people are on health kicks for Halloween candy, so you might get apples and other healthier treats." "That's just the thing, though. By playing at being a mutant on Halloween, they /don't/. They're just accessorizing. They're /wearing/ it as a costume for /fun/. They get to laugh it off, /take/ it off without any of the actual discrimination /we/ go through. Nobody's looking at someone dressing /up/ as weirdo-bat-kid for Halloween and being like oh yeah I'm going to shoot you and arrest you and evict you, they're thinking haha isn't that hilarious what a great freak costume?" Dusk's fanged grin has returned at Flicker's /accusation/. He continues tapping at his phone, re-capturing the portal nearly as soon as Flicker blows it up again. "That had nothing to do with bloodsucking, dude, I'm just trying to protect the good people of Evolve from your horrible /mind-controlling/ ways. -- There are," he adds thoughtfully, "some pretty bountiful dumpsters around, but I don't know if they hold a candle to gorging on a bunch of Laffy Taffy and Skittles." "Dragon*Con was pretty much a constant stream of people in yellowface and fake-mutants and a smattering of fake-crips thrown in." Flicker chuckles as he takes a sip of his cocoa. Kind of wry, though. "-- I can't help it if you're backwards and don't want humanity to progress." Jumping back to his game as he finally manages to green the portal. Slaps an AXA shield on it kind of /triumphantly/, wasteful though it might be. "Drift like -- my GPS is /all/ over the freaking place and has no idea where my phone actually is. If you ever get a new phone," he advises Hercules cheerfully, "join the Enlightenment." One side of his face scrunches up in -- kind of a smile? It's a little hard to read. "I've spent waaay too much time at Sinai. Manhattan, though." "Dusk's right. It's sure as hell not the same thing," Jack replies. "What we saw on the news? About registration...that's a lot closer to them actually feeling what it's like," he says. He nods as Flicker explains what Drift is and chuckles at the game banter. "Trying to protect us with your own mind control ways?" he asks with a little joke. "Oh man...Skittles. I found one of those places that put out a 'Take One' bowl of little mini-bags my first year...I ate so many of them," he says, shaking his head. "Made myself sick but it was worth it." Hercules nods slightly to Dusk, "You do have a point there, I admit." He looks down a moment before glancing up again. He looks to Flicker a moment. "Yellow-face? Oh. Ouch, that's pretty blatant." Jack gets a nod as well, "Yes, I agree, that's a lot closer, well, it's exactly it, isn't it?" He falls silent for a bit, before nodding to Flicker. "Yeah, I'll consider that." Hercules glances at Flicker, "My mother was a doctor there, up until the attack in twenty eleven." Maybe not so wasteful, because when Dusk's next attack hits much weaker against the shielded portal he huffs, amused, and sets his phone down. "Oh /man/. Those people with those bowls out are probably angels. I'm convinced. Halloween buffet." His wings shift again, rolling slightly and then pulling in against his back once more. He sips at his cider, a crease in his brows. "The attack? Was she -- there?" His tone is cautious, a hesitant sort of concern there. "It's not mind control that's Resistance propoganda," Flicker answers Jack brightly. "I'm just trying to augment humanity's capabilities. /Some/ of us are in /favor/ of evolution." He looks up from his phone once the battle has ended. "Reese's. Tasty /and/ the peanut butter made me feel like I was actually getting some kind of -- protein. Good at fooling my brain into thinking it ate a thing. I totally went for the Reese's for Halloween dinner." He quiets at Hercules's comment and Dusk's question, glancing between the other two. Takes another sip of his cocoa. "Not...exactly. As close as we're gonna get though," Jack murmurs, shoulders slumping a little. "Reese's were like...gold if I could get them. Especially the full sized ones and not those little bite sized ones a lot of people gave out," he says. He falls silent as well as Herc and Dusk speak, slipping his hands into his pockets. Hercules looks away at Dusk's question. "At the actual attack? No. But she had been making a name for herself with her work on mutants. She and her cohort at Mount Sinai were the leading edge on mutant physiology. Mom's work was helping advance medicine for mutants, as well as leading to discoveries for everyone. So during the unrest after the attack, when anti-mutant feelings were at a peak, she was targeted cause she was mutant-friendly. She had several death threats and despite increased security, she was murdered." He lets out a long breath after that. "Her case is unsolved." Dusk stretches out a wing, curling it around Jack's shoulders in a brief squeeze when his shoulders slump. "It's a start, right?" He wrinkles up his nose at Flicker. "Reese's is great for all you motherfuckers who don't /die/ eating dairy. I stayed away from the chocolate. Not that I'm jealous or anything noooope." And then quiet again. The wing still at his back gives a small fidget-twitch and resettles, his eyes dropping to his computer and then lifting back up to Hercules. He slowly lowers the cup of cider to the table, reaching instead to stir at his bowl of chili, take a bite, swallow it. "I'm --" His hand lifts, fisting up to circle against his chest. "That's -- terrible." Flicker's gaze lowers to his salad. He pushes is fork through it. Slowly picks up a mouthful, then another. Crunch, crunch. His mechanical hand has dropped to his lap. There's a stretch of quiet before, softly, "That's rough, man. {I'm sorry} for your loss." Jack leans into the squeeze, reaching up to briefly touch that wing. "Yeah," he replies. "Good start too," he says. Hercules' story has Jack quiet too. "Lo siento, Herc..." he trails off, reaching up to give the larger mutant's shoulder a squeeze. Hercules nods silently to the others around him, and rubs at one eye, and then the other. "Thank you.", he finally says. "But it was like, four years ago. Trying to move past it. The first couple of investigators were idiots, just wanted to blame mutants, even though it'd be pretty dumb for a mutant to want to kill someone who's goal was to help mutants. The latest woman, though, believes it was likely Friends of Humanity." He pinches at the bridge of his nose, "At times I've wished it had been a very obvious car accident. Just to have closure." Hercules rubs his chin, and the beginnings of a smile appears on his lips. "But anyways, I wasn't trying to kill the mood." The large teen reaches up to pat Jack on the back. "I do appreciate the feels, though. It makes it easier." A brief faint frown flits across Dusk's face. "Yeah -- pretty dumb." There's a slightly more distant tone to his voice. He picks up his bowl, tipping the last of his chili into his mouth. "-- What, those people at the subways with all the leaflets? That's, uh, kinda extreme." His tone is deeply skeptical. He closes his laptop very abruptly, slipping it into a messenger bag beside his chair and picking up his bowl and his cup -- still half-full of cider. His wing stretches out, brushing against Jack's elbow lightly again. "Gotta jet. Be seeing you later?" His brows raise, questioning. Flicker slumps forward, resting his cheek against a curled fist. His eyes track Dusk. Brows knitting together. Teeth nibbling at the inside of his lip. "Pretty big lobbyists, too." One shoulder hitches up. He reaches for his phone again, closing his Ingress scanner. "You never did get your food," he reminds Hercules, with a small crooked smile. "Those guys are assholes," Jack mutters about the FoH. He doesn't have further comment on them though. "Don't mention it, man," he chimes to Herc. The question is met with a nod from the empty hood. "Definitely, I'll be there," he confirms. He needs to blow off some steam tonight. Flicker's reminder gets Jack chuckling quietly. "Yeah, Herc. Go grab some food," he says. Hercules offers a wave to Dusk. "Nice meeting you, Dusk. Hope to see you around." Glancing to Flicker, he nods. "At the very least, FoH is an anti-mutant cult. I mean, I've read some of the stuff they hand out. Some of it is subtle, and some of it is subtle like a brick to the face. I wouldn't trust them." At the mention of food, the large teen just shakes his head. "Nah. Not hungry now. I'll get something later, or maybe on my way out of here." "Fantastic. Know I'll see /you/." For Flicker, not so much a gentle brush of wing as a light /bap/ of wing to the back of his roommate's head. Dusk gulps down his cider en route to the bussing station, leaving his used dishes in the trays and hurrying out of the cafe with a jangle of bell as he pushes the door open and vanishes out into the brisk night. Flicker swipes down at his phone, flicking through his email as Dusk baps at him. "Fff. Yeah, enjoy that while you can, you'll regret it in a few hours." He does reach up, though, patting absently at the wing that whaps at him. "I think you need to be not-mainstream to be a cult kind of by definition." He sounds glum about this. "And half our politicians are in the FoH. We live in a messed-up world." "Messed up doesn't even start to cover it," Jack sighs out. "See you later, Dusk," he offers as the winged man goes. "Find a place to sit, Herc. I'm gonna grab a water," Jack offers, heading to the counter to order up.