ArchivedLogs:Vive La Resistance

Vive La Resistance
Dramatis Personae Tag, Joshua
In Absentia	2014-12-12 '
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 is chill, but the wind does not bite all that hard beneath the low-hanging clouds lit by a million city lights. With the weekend just beginning, clubgoers in their Friday night best flood the streets, laughing and cajoling and huddled over their mobile devices. Falling into the ranks of these last, Tag is walking backward slowly. His hair is gleaming silver with streaks of metallic blue, a theme echoed by his tight vinyl jacket and pants. Even his boots are chrome-colored, with steel blue laces. Shimmery blue eye shadow and silver eyeliner make his skin look paler than it is in the sickly glow of the clouds. He slows to a stop, takes one step to the left, then another, stumbling off the curb but catching himself before spilling out into traffic. Joshua is barely even thinking, reflexive and automatic as he reaches out to the side to clamp a hand down on Tag's shoulder and pull his roommate back up to the curb. He steeeers Tag forward, one-two-three steps, his own eyes also fixed more on the phone in his other hand than on the sidewalk, though he seems aware enough of his surroundings to both steer Tag just fine /and/ not step into traffic himself. He's dressed casually, comfortably, cargo pants and sturdy black boots and a black canvas jacket over several layers of shirts beneath. Far less colorful than Tag. Grey scarf, grey capacitive gloves. "Deploy better when you're not pancaked in the street." His finger is tapping against his screen, a small twitch of smile on his lips. "Thanks." Tag's grin flashes bright in the faint glow of his screen as he, too, sets to tapping. His own gloves, black with silver seams, are fingerless. "I was trying to counter-drift, but this works, too. Better. In the staying in one piece department." He looks up. "Done. Also, low on turrets, but enough for tonight. You wanna grab a bite at Evolve after we make this block blue?" "Got mad turrets. You take force amps." Joshua frowns at his phone, then glances up the block. "Flicker has Evolve." He sounds so displeased about it, too. Downright /offended/. "Guess I should fuel up. Bet the twins are in a mood this week." This is a little bit gruffer, his lips pressing together as his shoulders hunch juuust a little bit inward. "I found a /hella/ big L8 farm if you want to go tomorrow. Solid -- must be seventy portals at least." "We can take it, and keep it, too! At least as long as I'm dancing the night away," Tag says, then adds, with a little less bravado, "It's been a /week./ So yeah, let's hit it, early as either of us can get up. Maybe get a Brunch." He pinch-zooms and cants his head slightly at the screen. "You got a spare key for the Kaiju Tea Party mural?" "So, one. Maybe two." Joshua's voice is dry, another quick-twitch smile crossing his lips. "... found a hella big farm," he clarifies, "in nowhere North Carolina, it's not going anywhere. Don't think they turn over quite as bad as Manhattan. Uh -- dropped." He lowers his phone once he's dropped the key, tucking one hand into a pocket. "His insides were like fucking Swiss cheese." The frown this comes with is followed soon after with: "... shrimp and grits." "Maybe later, if I get invited to a rave and/or your fighting gets super mega fighty." Tag does not sound terribly bothered by this hypothetical. "Oh man, I woulda had fun trying to guess that one. Don't tell me next time." His lips press into a thin line at Joshua's chosen imagery. "I'm...suddenly happy I don't eat shrimp. Hopefully I'll forget the thing about the grits by tomorrow." Tapping his screen vigorously, he brightens a little. Literally. All of the blue on his person practically glows. "Thanks, and will you look at all that pretty blue." He starts walking again. "I've been thinking a new theme for the living room. Tropical seascape or cloud forest?" "Brunch can be a surprise," Joshua offers. His smile returns, longer this time at the sight of the phone. He nods once, satisfied, and bumps his shoulder against Tag's as he continues down the sidewalk. "Cloud. Warring pirate ships for the bedrooms." "Can it be a grits-free surprise? Grit...free?" Tag twists out of the path of a tight knot of teenagers without taking his eyes off of his phone. "All...Chaos...Inside...Mind." And then he is swiping furiously. "Yesssss, sky pirates. Maybe some dragons, too. Well, we did dragons pretty recently, so maybe not." Joshua traces a small X over his heart in solemn answer to this request. His eyes follow after one woman passing them by in the other direction, head shaking as Tag reads out the glyph. "/Tell/ me about it. Only peaceful minds I've ever heard have been -- stoned or corpses. Firebirds," he suggests after this. "... thunderbirds. Lightningbirds. Stormbirds." "I dunno, I /feel/ pretty peaceful when I'm meditating properly." Tag shrugs, his smile crooked. "Well. Kinda...Chaotic-peaceful, anyhow. That's my alignment." He hops to the side so as to avoid colliding with another briskly walking pedestrian fixated on his phone. "Firebirds! That would set off the cool colors real nice. All kinds of elemental birds." He cruises to a stop in front of Evolve. "And I'll pick up some vines to hang across the rope bridges." Then, abruptly. "Would you prefer more peaceful minds?" "Snowbirds." Joshua's brows slide upwards. He leans against an old painted-up call box outside the cafe, head tipping back. There's an oddly long stretch of quiet. His eyes search the cloudy night sky. "You got some on offer?" "Icebirds!" Tag's screen lights up briefly with each weapon he deploys, one-handed. Just casually slinging bursters. "I'm not peddling tranquil minds or anything. I've only got the one, and it's only /intermittently/ tranquil. Aaand it's gray." He shifts to the other end of the sidewalk, balancing on the curb again. "Just wondering if it bothered you. I've never asked." Joshua pulls away from the box, ambling away from the cafe. Here in the quieter side-street he /does/ step out into the street, this time, in a lull of no traffic while he deploys four resonators from the center of the road. "I'd prefer no minds. Anyone who ever says they want to be a telepath is fucking crazy. Mind-dealer. Peddling brains. /There's/ a profession for you. Wouldn't even be surprised if there's someone out there who does." Tag follows Joshua, not bothering to look for traffic as he does so. "/I/ wouldn't want to be a telepath. One mind is noisy enough." He deploys his own resonators and mods, then studies his roommate sidelong through unnaturally electric blue eyes. "Wouldn't surprise me, either, but I'm happy enough peddling colors. There's a shortage of working minds in the world, but I don't think brain-peddling will solve that." "Never wanted to /be/ a telepath. /Or/ a healer. Teleporting, though." Joshua's smile is bright, briefly, warm and wide. "/That/ one I like. And the world's got a shortage of a lot of..." Trailing off, he shuts off the screen of his phone, slipping it back into his pocket as he wanders back up onto the sidewalk. His eyes lift, studying the colorful mural on Evolve's front wall. "Never really quiet in there. Colorful, though." "It /is/ pretty awesome." It's hard to say whether Tag is referring to teleportation, the mural, or Evolve at large. Probably all three. Another blue line appears on his screen, forming yet another triangle that is a moment later filled in, likewise blue. "Vive la Resistance! I'll take colorful over quiet any night." "Night. Day. Afternoon. /Dusk/." Joshua has a faintly satisfied look, watching the blue come to life on Tag's screen. He heads past the other man, holding the door open to let a spill of light and music out into the street. He ushers Tag inside, only too glad for the warmth of the cafe. "When /don't/ you want life colorful?" is the last heard from him before the door closes behind them.