Logs:The Nose Knows
| The Nose Knows | |
|---|---|
| Dramatis Personae | 2021-10-12 you smell... different? ( weird shit happens in the middle of this) |
| Location
<PRV> Kitty and Marinov's Apartment {Cathaus} - Lower East Side | |
This high ceiling, fourth floor apartment is on its way to being well lived in. The walls are a light cream colour, the spotless hardwood floors stained a rich red-brown. The door opens into the living room, always bright with natural light coming in the windows or the glow of the twin pink rock salt lamps nestled on the one of the sills. Small succulents and other resilient, cat-safe houseplants dot the windowsills and nearby surfaces – one on the low coffee table between the faux-leather couch and the television mounted on the wall, another on a ladder bookshelf squeezed into a corner. There are no rugs, nothing that can collect fur, but the couch and floor are both covered in pillows. On the wall opposite the television, there is a framed poster of the Cat’s Eye Nebula from an astrophysics conference. To the left of this space is a small kitchen, just large enough to fit two people in it, if one of them can walk through other people. To the right is a small hallway, leading to the washroom and two bedrooms. One of the bedroom doors has a small blue mezuzah on the doorframe, held in place with wall putty. While not every mutant in New York is going to every event in the lead up to tomorrow's anniversary, the mass of people on the streets of the Lower East Side has been growing event by event, night by night. Here, not too far from the train, the streets are filled with people meeting up to walk to tonight's rally, just a few blocks away. Kitty is preparing, too -- or, at least, trying to prepare. Strewn around the apartment are half-finished tasks; a phone plugged into a charger that isn't plugged into the wall, a bowl of instant noodles that's cold and uneaten, an empty hanger that's been abandoned in the back of a chair, the faucet running over an overfilled Nalgene water bottle. In the bathroom, Kitty is washing her face, rubbing too vigorously at the skin below her right eye. "Stupid -- waterproof Sephora bullshit," she's muttering to her reflection, still attacking her skin like her concealer is caked onto it. Beside her, the concealer is unopened, and her skin is bare. Her Xaviers tee-shirt, however, is slowly growing damper as water drips from her washcloth onto the cotton. Marinov had entered only a few moments ago through front door, sporting a long, pleated, darkly coloured skirt with a several white diamond shapes made up of white wavy lines, and then with more of the angular designs made up of the lines around the hem. Their top is a turtleneck, with a darkly coloured jacket over it, with the silver of the four horizontal lines, and one vertical line, of the zippers contrasting brightly with the darker material. The material all looks like, ready for autumn. Their ears go up at alert not long after entering, and they carefully put their bag on the floor. They begin to navigate the room, first turning off the faucet that is running over the bottle, which they seal and put next to the sink. Then, plugging the charger in so that the phone will at least get some charge. They sniff lightly at the noodles, then put them in the microwave to heat them up. At the hanger, though, they pause for awhile. Tug at the hanger slightly. Ears twitch slightly. They look at the other side of the chair to see a little more hanger, a quiet, "What the fuck--" escapes their mouth. They approach the bathroom cautiously, "Hey, Kitty, you know... the skin part is supposed to still be there after you scrub. You can probably take a break." "No but there's still--" Kitty blinks, moves the washcloth away and peers at her reflection. "I guess it's --" She puts the washcloth away, frowning at Marinov in the reflection. "You look amazing -- are you going to the rally tonight? I know it's not the big one but I don't know if I'm going to be able to handle tomorrow's so I figure I should go tonight but if you're not up for it that's totally fine." Kitty isn't still for any of the monologue, moving around Marinov back to her room, which is in similar (atypical) disarray. She's got a whole stack of winter coats and thick sweatshirts piled onto her bed -- Kitty holds one up, a light blue puffy coat, to show to Marinov. "Too much, right? Not Autumny enough?" "Oh! Thanks- yeah, I'm gonna go, but I'll get changed first. This isn't my first choice of outfit to risk getting pepper spray on," says Marinov with a quick glance downwards. They follow Kitty to her room to opine, "Supposed to be on the warm side tonight, that might end up with you sweating out. We'll find some kind of autumn outfit for you, but--" They pause a moment, ears once again twitching as they sniff again. "Hey, you got a sec to talk? Like, sit down, have an apartment meeting sorta thing?" "It's supposed to be warm now and I've been cold all day," Kitty complains, but sets the coat down. "Pepper spray is a good point though." She pulls on an NYU hoodie instead, the logo flaking from the fabric already. "I guess I got a little bit of time now before we get going?" She frowns, looks at the wall ahead of her. "Now is probably good actually, the rest of this week could get crazy fast." In the kitchen, the microwave dings. Kitty's brow furrows. "Did you put that in?" Marinov sniffs again, but this time towards the microwave, "Yeah, it seems like you let it get cold, and I kind of thought... maybe you need some soup?" They seem a bit unsure about that after having said it, but walk to the couch to have a seat. "Just want to check in. Um. You kinda seem like you might be distracted and..." They hesitate, a bit awkwardly, "Okay, like, this might sound weird. But you smell... different? Kinda off? Are you ok? You might want to think about taking a break or something." “Oh! Thank you. I do like soup.” Kitty retrieves the bowl from the microwave, bringing it into the living room and sitting on the floor across the coffee table from Marinov. Raises the spoon to her lips, puts it back down again and stares at her roommate with confusion. “I’m, uh. I’m like, generally stressed out, but how would that make me smell bad?” She pulls the neck of her shirt out from under her hoodie, sniffs it, stares at Marinov again. “I showered this morning, like please tell me if I stink but I didn’t think I did?” "No, I don't mean like, you smell 'bad'. I just-- I dunno. I'm good with smells, like, my brain knows how to sort 'em and everyone has a smell and places have a smell, and you smell like you, and places, and people, sure, but also..." Marinov shrugs helplessly, following the spoon with their eyes. "Anyways, you been acting weird, like, you're leaving stuff in stuff, which. I dunno if you can get that hanger out? But I think you might be sick or something. But I don't think like if you go out anyone will smell it or anything." Kitty nods, clearly confused and Not Understanding Marinov’s description. “O…kay. I mean, I’ve been kind of — frazzled? Since last week, I guess that could throw me out of wack but, I don’t feel sick. Do sick people usually smell different?” Kitty chews the inside of her cheek, glancing at the hanger. “It should come out,” she mumbles. “Maybe not in one piece, though.” "Alright, I guess your mutant thing is putting things in things and mine is making people feel awkward about their odour. But trust me, yeah?" says Marinov, as they glance again towards the hanger. "Sick people smell different... depends how they're sick, really, but usually I can smell that. I've got like a whole-ass encyclopedia in my face." They laugh softly and continue, "Anyway... just, be attentive, ok? If anything changes, we can spend some time on WebMD, yeah? I'll be your fake free doctor." "I trust your nose, I just -- maybe it's frosh flu. I'm fine," Kitty insists. As if to prove it, she stands up and pulls the hanger out of the chair back. It does come out in one piece, though the center of the hanger now appears to be made out of the same IKEA wood material as the chair. Kitty sets it down on top of the coffee table. "I'll keep tabs, though. I love a free fake doctor. You're probably better than most of the real ones." "You can believe that so long as you release me from getting sued for malpractice," says Marinov, a bit of a laugh under their words. They pick up the hanger and examine the replaced section with an interested sounding huh. "I've heard being extra stressed can make it easier to get sick, too. Weaken the immune system or something. Maybe just take a little break after tonight, yeah? Stop firing on all cylinders." Kitty laughs now too. "I'll sign an NDA, sure thing." She pokes at the soup again, getting a spoonful that is mostly noodle. "That's a good point. Maybe it's frosh flu." Finally puts the spoon in her mouth, swallows it with some difficulty. "Okay. Tonight. After tonight, I'll take a break.” Wrapped up under her duvet, the red coat she wore to the rally tossed onto the floor, Kitty stares at the ceiling, rattling off symptoms. "So, temperature, confusion, acting weird, biting people, difficultly swallowing. Smelling Off, make sure to put that in, you were right on the money." She looks over to her roommate and gives them a wane smile. "So, doc, how bad is it?" Marinov is on their laptop, entering some symptoms, quietly adding under their breath as they type it in, "Distractable, kinda manic." They wait a couple of seconds and then rub their brow. "Uh. WebMD says. Bipolar disorder. PMS. Intoxication. Or autism. So... okay, I'm gonna try something else, because apparently today the internet doc is kind of fucking stupid." There's a few more moments of them typing quickly. "So um. Just googling 'disease that makes you bite people' is a little more-- Have you got bit by an animal in the last month? Like a squirrel or a bat or something? I'm not judging." "I'm not PMSing," Kitty grumbles, pulling the duvet a littly higher up . "Uh. No, last time I got bit by an animal was -- firstly, it was a weird gator thing, and that was like a year ago, and Leo sorted me out --" Kitty pauses, brow furrowing. "-- and I kind of gave Leo a panic attack last week? By accident?" She rolls over, facing Marinov a little more. "Um. Maybe. That's it." "A gator?" repeats Marinov, their ears swivelling to Kitty as if trying to confirm they heard right. "Oh. Oh shit. That is-- Fuck. I think you might have rabies? Like, I dunno if he can panic give diseases, but Vector-- Leo-- I know he can. Disease people. In a real bad way." They struggle to regain their composure, "But hey, that means we should be able to figure this out before--" They pick up their phone, laid flat next to the laptop, "Do you have his number?" At Vector Kitty cringes, a little bit of drool escaping from the corner of her mouth. "We -- heard -- about Vector." She paws at the side of the bed for her phone, unlocks it and pulls up Leo's contact info. "Sent to you -- I can, I should text him." Kitty starts typing something out, taking longer than usual to pick out letters as she stares determinedly at the keyboard. "Vector was terrifying, but he also saved us, so..." Marinov shrugs then watches Kitty try to type on her keyboard for a few seconds before they say, "Don't worry about it, you will hopefully see him face to face soon enough so you can say whatever you need to... how are you feeling currently? Uh, not too bitey, I hope."
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