Logs:Lots of Reasons
|Lots of Reasons|
"I don't wanna wear it out, you know?"
<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 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 been a sweltering day in the Lower East Side, but evening is coming on cool and fresh with the promise of a lovely summer's night. There's no much of a supper rush at Evolve today, but the steady trickle of protesters seeking a break from the streets continues unabated, giving the cafe a frazzled, frenetic background buzz like it has most days this past month.
Though it's far too early for clubbing as yet, Polaris certainly looks ready. She's wearing a tank top of deep glossy black vinyl speckled with iridescent green sparkles, green-purple colorshift booty shorts, and thin-gauge black fishnet stockings, her black lace-up boots, belt, and wrist cuffs all bedecked with steel hardware. Her leaf green hair is in a simple but neat updo, held in place by a gleaming steel barrette, her makeup and nails alike in dramatic shades of green, silver, and black. She's currently perched on the couch at the back of the cafe, her half-finished supper set aside for the moment in favor of--checking her makeup in the selfie mode of her phone camera.
"I gotta say this lipstick is the shit, I mean I just ate a whole--" She glances at her meal, sighs. "--half of a sandwich, and it's barely smudged at all." Not that this is stopping her from rooting through her purse for said lipstick, a metallic purple-green duochrome much like her shorts.
Sitting on the couch by Polaris is a tiny blue person, striking even among Evolve's clientele in their drastically inhuman features. B is dolled up this evening as well, metallic blue holographic corset top with a pleated silver miniskirt, shimmery sheer blue stockings, stompy silver-and-blue platform boots, just a touch of shimmering silver makeup highlighting her truly enormous pupilless black eyes; her sharp claws have been chromed in gleaming silver as well. A leather vest is draped on the arm of the couch nearby, the large insignia on its back visible -- MUTANT MONGRELS MC splashed huge across its back, the Jolly Roger logo bearing a pair of crossed fencing foils under the skull where crossbones would normally be, the skull itself filled with grinning serrated sharkteeth in its mouth.
"Skye always has the best lipstick recommendations," B says with a small closed-lipped smile. She is sipping slowly at a large iced dirty chai, legs crossed carefully at the ankles and tucked against the base of the couch. "Is a half-a-sandwich going to get you through the night? I have energy shots."
Mercury didn’t look too hot. Given, it was hard to tell with the texture of her skin almost entirely hidden, but it seemed like there were bags under her eyes. Maybe too late for a coffee and hash brown but whatever, she’d just woken up and needed a walk, so it was worth trying. She didn’t bother dressing up at all, rocking out in her pink pjs (at least it was the nice ones) and off-brand uggs. The light didn’t hurt her head that much anymore so she ditched the sunglasses, settling for a Panadol instead.
She made her way inside, not bothered by the moderately more than usual turn of heads as she entered. Yeah, she’s in her pjs- so what? It’s mental illness haute couture. She ordered unenthusiastically, the person behind the bar seeming sympathetic as he informed her they were out of hash browns, but they could probably whip something up for her. God Bless America and it’s all-day breakfasts. She agreed and paid, glad that she made her own hours. Being indisposed for a few days was fine when she worked through the weekends.
She stopped Polaris and Shane at the back, milling around as she waited for her order to be completed and needing to sit down- the body aches hadn’t entirely stopped yet. “What’s cooking good-looking?” She quipped, “Nice lippie, I feel underdressed.” Clearly a joke, given that she seemed totally at ease with her unusual attire. “Hey Shane, nice to see you again.” She added. He was in a totally different sort of outfit then before, but who was she to say anything about that?
"I'll be sure to pester her for suggestions." Polaris twirls the liquid lipstick tube between index and middle fingers. "I kinda hate all my other lipsticks now, and I can't just wear this one all the time." She doesn't look at her meal this time. "Ah, we're just taking a break, you know? Not gonna say no to energy shots, though--maybe after I finish the food? If you don't wanna be peeling me off the ceiling before the club even opens."
She looks up at Mercury as she approaches. "Oh hey, uh--" Here she hesitates. Then snaps her fingers triumphantly. "Mercury, right?" Her wide hazel eyes crinkle at the corners as she darts a glance at B. "Thanks, I was just singing its praises." She holds up the lipstick, which reads "Fyrinnae" along the side in silver lettering. "But there's no like--fanciness requirement or anything." Her eyes take in the other woman's attire.
"Can't you? It could become like your. Signature look." B's smile fades as Mercury addresses them. She settles back in her chair, cupping her drink carefully in both webbed hands and fixing her enormous on Mercury, clear inner eyelids sliding deliberately shut. There's a faint flutter of the slitted gills along her neck; her head tilts slightly to one side. "Evening."
"Yep, that's it. Mind if I chill?" She asks, motioning to the couch opposing 'Shane', "Got a wild headache and sitting helps." She takes a seat if the answer is affirmative, resting her sore back on the cushy material before speaking to B, "Didn't take you much for the clubbing type. Looks good on you though." She seems utterly unbothered by the change of attire, or zer's unsual features. Probably because she might be considered equally odd-looking, luminous as she was.
"No clubbing for me I'm afraid. Sort of fucked the duck a few days ago and had to bust out some..." She considered, "Well, had to use my powers and it totally kicked my ass. Spent the last few days between the bottom of my shower and my bed. Did meet Mister Rogders, though, the shield type. Don't think he likes me, which is kind of dissapointing, but whatever."
"I don't wanna wear it out, you know?" Polaris smiles easily, though her eyes flick uncertain between the two women. To Mercury, she shrugs, "Go for it. Sorry you're head's hurting, hope that clears up, soon." She blinks, quiet for a moment. "Wow, that's rough. Uh..." She frowns, leaning forward slightly, "Mister Rogers was--in your house?"
"We haven't met." B sounds only very mildly apologetic about this. She sips again at her chai, her gills fluttering once more. "I'm sorry, you sort of what?" The enormous black pools of her eyes open juust a little wider. "You met who? Through -- like -- a ouija board?" The brief look she shoots Polaris, brows starting to pinch, is openly perplexed. Gently, to Mercury: "Do you, um, need some ibuprofen?"
"Fair enough." She concedes, "It's okay. I was dumb. And yeah, he was. I was dumb there too." She smiled at B, amused, "Steve Rodgers, not the eponymous Mister Rodgers- rest his soul. Thanks for the offer but I've been two panadol and two ibuprofen in for like... three days. Stacked up before I left. I'd go to the clinic but I don't know, hospitals skeeve me out."
"And I'm sorry- you said we haven't met?" Her eyebrows furrow, "I'm hurt, down to my itty-bitty heart. Don't remember me, you, Daiki and Akihiro chatting?" She clearly wasn't hurt at all, "I jest, of course. Don't mind at all if you don't recall me, I normally just stick out."
"That was my boss you met," Polaris explains, sheepishly. "This is his twin, B. Sorry," this to B, "I wasn't sure if you were trying to do the twin thing." She nods slowly and makes an "ah" face without actually voicing the word. "Right, yeah, I kinda--thought you meant Fred Rogers, which would be a whole different level of concern, but like." She slips the lipstick tube back into her purse. "Why was Captain America in your house, and why don't you think he likes you?"
"That wasn't me." B smoothes one hand lightly down over her skirt, pressing the pleats gently into place as Polaris explains further. "You might stick out a lot of places, but here glowing is kind of." She glances briefly towards the door that leads to the club upstairs. "Normal." She leans forward, setting the cup down on the table, and folds her hands in her lap. "Funny," there's juuust the lightest uptick of amusement in her soft, gills starting to flutter again, "I heard he had a thing for glowing mutants."
"Ohhhhh, well that makes a bit more sense. Pleasure." She reaches out her hand, "But don't break my heart, I'm pretty sure he's taken. Doesn't stop my massive crush, but whatever. Now as for why he was at my abode... well, I had gone to this place to buy a bike. Prefer it to cars, need to occasionally go out of the city. Went to this shop with three guys there, inquired, and before it could go much further the cops rocked up." She sighed, "And these freaky robots. Mister Rodgers put his hands up and they got quite cross with him and fired... something. Not a gun but I didn't really know that. I, with my back to them, reacted accordingly, busting out my shields." She waved her hand dismissively, "Thing I can do, not as helpful as it sounds."
Her coffee arrived with that and she accepted it gratefully, even knowing it would make her feel worse, the caffeine was too tempting.
"Motorcycles are fucking rad." Polaris perks up a bit, picking up her coffee again. Her eyes go wide as she lifts the mug for a drink, though it never quite makes it to her mouth. "Oh my God, that's terrifying! Shields--sound pretty helpful? If it's some invisible-ass Star Trek-type shields." She shakes her head, incredulous. "I'm sorry that happened, but glad y'all are alive, though. Fucking pigs."
B's hands fold just a little bit tighter when Mercury extends her hand. She tips her head, small and polite, and tucks her legs just a touch closer against the couch. Her flat-featured uncanny-valley expression is difficult to read, wide-eyed and not changing all that much. She does tip her head slightly as Mercury talks, though. Looking down to the Mutant Mongrels vest sitting at her elbow. Looking back up to Mercury. "Sounds rough." She leans forward, scoops her drink back up with a light click of sharp claws against the glass. "He's dating Ryan Black. I'm sure that hasn't stopped many crushes. On either of them." One claw circles lightly against the side of her glass. "Pa's shields are helpful, but -- he's Pa."
She raises and eyebrow but doesn't comment, dropping her hand. "Motorbikes are pretty rad. Just can't have one too heavy or it will push me over, gotta get back to the gym regularly. My shields aren't invisible, unfortunately. They glow too- I can't escape my fucking annoying nightlight setting anywhere it seems." She pauses, sipping her latte, "I agree, ACAB and all that. They seemed way too smug for themselves too, the pricks. I still overreacted though, but I was holding some stuff I didn't want them to find. 'Course just my luck they didn't end up searching us, just the garage. Didn't know that before I chucked it."
She seemed frustrated then, "But... well, not that you lot aren't lovely, but I'm in the States for a reason. My lovely little mutations come with their own nasty big surprises." Mercury frowned, "'S why I've been hiding in my place the last few days. Lucky I didn't straight pass out. Shields aren't helpful when they fuck you up that bad."
"Oh, I'm sorry." Polaris cringes slightly behind her cup. "Didn't mean to--dismiss. That sounds pretty unpleasant, but I don't have a lot of experience with powers--doing that? I'm sure it happens to some people." She doesn't actually sound all that sure, here, her eyes skidding aside to B. "But you mean like you came to America to get medical help with that?"
"Think there's a lot of people whose powers make them sick." B lowers her glass to her lap. Lowers her eyes to her glass. "The Clinic is basically the only place for that," she adds, mildly, "so you came an awful long way for not-much if that is what you're looking for but you don't want to go there."
"Nah, it's fine, don't sweat it. And no, I didn't really come only for medical help. Not exclusively, anyway." She seemed sort of hesitant to expand on that, "I came... I guess I was angry. I wasn't a mutant- well, I was, but I didn't know until I was sixteen. And then I was the only one I knew for ages. Got into an incident a few months ago and ended up in hospital. Spending ages there just made me madder. I'm explaining myself really poorly, I know, but I came because..." Mercury seemed frustrated, not able to express herself, "For reasons. Lots of reasons. Complicated reasons. I guess that's what sort of fucked me up."
"Mister Rodgers and... 'Jacks'? Kindly escorted me back home and I invited them in, cause I wanted to ask a question or two. They looked sort of weird about it though... maybe they were nervous? I don't know. I'm so shit at reading people it's embarrassing." She rubbed her temples, "I don't know, maybe I'm an idiot. I probably am. I suck at people- or mutant stuff. I feel like you're gonna judge me so hard when I recount how dumb I am."
Polaris tilts her head, farther and farther, to one side. "Wait, I..." She trails off, shaking her head, her updo waggling. "I dunno. Shit's just hard sometimes." After a pause, she adds, "Hard and complicated, sometimes. I can't tell you what was going on with them, but you were having a shit day and sometimes there's just nothing for that."
"Oh." The heavy ridge of B's brow lifts slightly. So does her tone, a quiet uptick. "He really was at your apartment." Distinctly surprised. She sips at her chai again and sets it down on the arm of the couch, her own arm resting along the back of her leather vest. "Sorry," her eyes open just-a-touch wider, her voice uncertain, "is that recounting, um, what you've -- already said or is it still coming?" One hand lifts, pressing her fingertips gently against the rippling gills along her neck. "It does all sound a little complicated. I guess life is like that sometimes."
"Oh there's more, much more." She laments. "I was having a shit day, and honestly, I was in a lot of pain. This, what I'm at right now, is nothing. I was about to get a migraine, super light sensitive, body sore, the whole thing. And it can get worse than that, but I got lucky. Anyway, I asked Jacks if he wouldn't mind making some tea while I changed into pjs cause I'll never be in my own house wearing real clothes. When I emerged... well, to be honest, the series of events I don't remember all that well. Pain is shit like that. But... I am sort of a fan of Captain America, and I wondered if I could ask him some advice. I guess I was also sort of star-struck. I never imaged I'd be able to speak to him."
"That --" B is starting to rise, a slow motion, stretching up onto the toes of her chunky boots and then thudding back down, "sounds tough. The migraine, I mean. Hope you figure it out." She twists around, picking up her Mongrels vest and draping it neatly over one arm. Then her empty dishes, stacking them carefully with Polaris's half-done ones. "Dancing won't get good for a while. Want to see if there's any action next door? Heard Dusk might be fighting tonight. If we're lucky we can catch him." She balances the dishes on her non-vest-encumbered arm, and nods towards the exit.
Polaris drains the rest of her coffee kind of tentatively, head tilting now in the other direction as the story continues. "Well, I'm glad you got that chance--even if it was under pretty painful circumstances! Uh..." She looks up at B as she rises. "Oh!" Her eyes light with interest. "Yeah, I'd love to. Check that out." She only blushes ever so slightly. "Hope you enjoy your breakfast, Mercury," she adds as she rises, "maybe it'll help with that headache, finally. See you around!" With that and a cheerful wave, she follows B toward the front of the cafe.
She wilts slightly, wondering if she’d said something. “Okay, no worries. I’ll catch you later, I guess.” She rubbed the crux of her pointer and thumb, trying to relieve of the pressure building in her head.