Logs:In Which No Buildings Are Collapsed and No Organs Are Ruptured, Yet

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In Which No Buildings Are Collapsed and No Organs Are Ruptured, Yet
Dramatis Personae

Skye, Taylor

2023-02-06


"Think there's a lot of people who'd look at a house full of us as pretty much a bunker full of guns." (pre-fight club)

Location

<NYC> Lower East Side - 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.

It's not unusual to see Skye hanging out in front of the safehouse on a Friday evening, but it is uncommon to see her there unaccompanied and, more noticeably, not dolled up for dancing. Tonight she's swapped her glitter and PVC and fishnets for a black t-shirt with a line of dancing stick-figures above the words "make ciphers fun again", beaten-up blue jeans, and even more beaten up black ankle boots. Her long black hair is bound up in a tight braid and she's fidgeting with the tail of it restlessly and looking generally out of sorts without a phone in her hand.

Taylor is looking not too far off how he does at work -- jeans, purple tee reading FLEXIN' IN MY COMPLEXION in bold gold print over his broad chest -- though this tee is a good deal more beaten up than many of the ones he chooses for his actual shifts and now he's pulled his Mongrels cut on over the shirt. He does have a cup of Evolve coffee in one slender limb, though, that much is consistent as he ambles towards the door. His smile is an easy thing, relaxed rather than customer-service cheerful. "Yo. You waiting on someone or just -- waiting?"

Skye's relief when she spots Taylor is strong enough to easily sense, though it's not exactly as if she's trying to hide it outwardly either, her own smile slightly embarrassed. "Hey! Yeah I'm waiting for Ion to like, sign me up? Or, you know, vouch for me." She tips her head at the rowhouse. "Cuz I'm joining the club! Maybe. If I don't chicken out." She gives a breathy laugh. "Sorry, I'm just a little nervous."

"Nervous?" Taylor's brows lift as he takes a long swig of his coffee, his smile brighter. "What, 'bout signing up to get your limbs tore off? What's to be worried about?" He hops up onto the railing by the front stairs, long arms draping all down around it. "Ion's probably already taking bets on the fresh meat. Or maybe on whether the house is gonna be intact after, who knows." He peers appraisingly over his coffee at Skye. "You ain't finna Jericho this whole-ass place, are you? Cuz I'mm'a make sure to get in before you if so."

"Uh, yeah, I only got four of them." Skye waggles her fingers, her mouth twitching with amusement. "Though that actually sounds like a lot of limb, now that I put it that way." Blushing, she gives the somewhat aged rowhouse an appraising look. "I'm not planning to bring down the house, and my control is pretty great! But if I get hurt bad enough..." She bites her lower lip. "Well. I didn't collapse the building or even rupture anyone's organs when I broke my leg, so. There's that?"

"Four is four more than you really need, right? If it helps," Taylor offers earnestly, "I've never lost all of mine. But I have lost way more than four." Several of his limbs are twining, sinuous, around the railing as he shifts position on his seat. Another one waggles towards the building behind them. "This place has taken kind of a lot of beating. We're planning to move soon anyway. Uh, not the safehouse, just the beating. Get a bigger badder place where you can rupture organs to your heart's..." He trails off, brows scrunching slowly. "... don't got any idea how your heart feels about rupturing organs, actually. People got all kinds of reasons for coming down here."

"That doesn't really help, but I appreciate the thought." Skye is still blushing. "If I didn't trust Joshua more than basically anyone else in the multiverse, I probably wouldn't be here." Her face pales very quickly, though. "Oh fuck, I definitely don't want to rupture anyone's organs. I just...it's more of a --" She bites her lower lip. "I guess I just haven't felt really safe since Dirac. And like, Hive helps a lot, but he won't always be there, you know?"

"Shit, wouldn't none of us be here we didn't trust Joshua." Taylor's expression sombers at the mention of Dirac. He lowers his coffee to a knee, head bobbing in a nod. "Think more than a few people come for that reason. World keeps staying dangerous for us. Don't matter how much we try to look out for each other, always time gonna come --" He exhales heavily, gives a shrug of one shoulder. "for rupturing organs."

"Or tearing off limbs," Skye adds, more lightly than she looks or feels. "But yeah, it's terrifying and stressful, and considering all that I'm a lot more sane than I really expected to be. Probably got a lot to do with that looking-out-for-each-other thing, probably." She hops up to sit on the railing across from Taylor, somewhat less impressively hooking one ankle through for balance. "Beats the hell out of holing up in a bunker full of guns like some Qanon whack-job." After a very brief hesitation, she says, "Would you mind waiting with me, til Ion gets here?"

"Think there's a lot of people who'd look at a house full of us," one of Taylor's slender arms gestures towards the safehouse door, "as pretty much a bunker full of guns." His fingers tap lightly against the side of his cup, and he gives Skye a quick smile. "I don't mind at all."