Logs:In Which Some Mutants Share Some Illicit Booze Out Of Sheer Spite

In Which Some Mutants Share Some Illicit Booze Out Of Sheer Spite
Dramatis Personae Charlie, Skye, Taylor
In Absentia	2019-05-11 "Here's to stubbornly staying alive."
Location NYC - Tompkins Square Park
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 been a grey and rainy morning, but thankfully for the moment the rain has tapered off. The brief lull has -- not exactly brought a /ton/ of people out into the damp and grey city, but some are enjoying the respite nonetheless. In one corner of Tompkins Square there's a large and boisterous group that seems to be enjoying it quite exuberantly, despite the wet and the grey weather. A few large tables of food has been set up, some big tarps and blankets spread on the damp ground, Earth Wind & Fire playing from someone's stereo while a large cluster of black people of a wide range of ages seem to be enjoying a picnic. A sign on one of the tables says BLACK MAMAS BAILOUT NYC, and another, BYP100. Taylor /has/ been with the group, for some time, but now he's wandering away. The tall young man is dressed in jeans, a white shirt reading FREE BLACK MAMAS, his skin -- /obsidian/ black, not just the many shade of brown represented among the people he's left. His right arm is in a cast and sling, a wrapping of gauze around a slim stretch of his left forearm. There's a small slump to his shoulders as he looks back at the picnic, dragging himself over to a park bench with a bottle of Coke in hand. Charlie Wisp wasn't one to favor such shady days. In fact, these were the days she utterly despised. Especially coming from a long morning at work, she didn't necessarily want to spend her break looking at all the wilting flowers along the sidewalks of Tompkins Square. She despised their slumped looks, almost as if they were frowning at her utter presence. She furrowed her eyebrows, eyelids half-lidded with irritation as she began to wander her way towards one of the many park benches that were nearby. She definitely didn't /favor/ spending her time on these things, but she thought it'd definitely be better than trying to 'make the best of a rainy day'. Skye has just wandered into the park, dressed on the casual side, wearing boot-cut black jeans, face shadowed in the hood of her green Attack on Titan hoodie, hands shoved deep in its pockets. She notices Charlie in passing, gives her a friendly nod, then does a /hard/ double take when she sees Taylor. "Oh!" Her eyes go wide only briefly, but then she just says. "Fuck that whole week and the horse it rode in on, huh?" She seems to be saying this to both of them, turning to lean against a lamp post between the two benches. The mutant glanced towards the stranger, eyes narrowing somewhat as she gave a somewhat irritated hiss. "That's quite an understatement." She declared, rolling her eyes and leaning back on the dew covered bench. She wasn't one for chatting with strangers, especially those that gave off an obnoxious vibe. However, she replied regardless. Taylor has been gripping his soda tight, the bottle kind of shaky in his hands. He looks up when Charlie nears, eyes drawn by the young woman's blue skin. His chin lifts in a nod -- casual, habitual -- that ends with a lift of eyebrows, a hard sharp puff of breath, when Skye approaches. "This week can fucking suck it," he agrees with a crooked grin, the jet black of his skin a sharp contrast to the white of his teeth. The smile fades quickly, his posture tight. "Not sure I'm ready for next one either, though." Skye glances aside at Charlie's hiss, but perhaps she just took it as agreement, because she just nods, staring straight ahead again, shoulders slumping a little. "Guess it's coming anyway. Rude motherfucker." She unzips her hoodie part-way and withdraws a hip flask styled after the TARDIS from Doctor Who. Opens it and knocks some back. Holds it out for Taylor. "Rum," she explains, then hastily adds, "but not like.../great/ rum." Shrugs. Charlie didn't pay much attention to the other two and their conversation, she merely kept her eyes ahead and gave a soft sigh. Eventually, she let her gaze fall to the ground before shutting her eyes entirely, trying hard not to focus on whatever the hell they were talking about. Although it was hard now that she was slightly interested, as much as she hated to admit. Taylor glances briefly around their immediate vicinity. He sets the bottle of coke between his knees, reaching -- with a noticeable wince -- for the rum, pouring some of it into the soda bottle. Totally blasé about the fact that it isn't even /his/ booze, he's offering the flask over toward Charlie with a lift of brows. "We're talking," the telepath offers helpfully along with the rum, "about the fucking shitshow that is living in a world where people try to blow you the hell up just for existing. But we're still alive. You want to drink to that?" The breath Skye lets out might be kind of a chuckle? Inwardly she just wishes she were less sober, but doesn't object to sharing her rum, either. "To be honest with you, I'll drink to just about anything right now, but..." She scrubs one hand over her face and pushes her hood back, shaking her hair free. "...that's a good one. Here's to stubbornly staying alive." Charlie was surprised to be 'accepted' by the two despite her somewhat irrational behavior, but merely grabbed the flask and took a quick swig from it. She groaned as it stung her throat, eventually handing it back to Skye with a low huff. " Here's to -. . . Shit, I don't know -. . . Doing the best we absolutely can. Which isn't saying but y'know, to hell with it - " Taylor lifts his bottle to the others, swigging from the rum and cola deeply. "Friend," he waggles the neck of his bottle lazily between Charlie and himself, slumping back against the damp bench, "I just figure we got too many people out here hating on us straight away. Easier for me to give the benefit of the doubt, if I can." His eyes close, his bald head tipping back. "The way things are right now? I think it's saying /something/. Just for this next week, if I gotta stay alive out of sheer bloody spite, I'll do it." "I'm Skye. I'm uh..." << What? "A freak like you?" Yeah no. >> Skye shakes her head. "I'm down. Just for this coming week, yeah?" She takes the flask from Charlie, raising in a kind of sloppy salute before taking another slug herself. "To /hell/ with it," she echoes. "And to sheer bloody spite."