Out of the Frying Pan

July 24, 2015:

Several days after their disappearance, Lunair, Rant and Rose find their way to a bar, only to be joined by Bobby and Brinley

Some Rundown Bar


NPCs: Various Bar Residence



Mood Music: [*\# None.]

Fade In…

'Dear Diary:

'I don't know what has happened these last few days. I couldn't begin to explain it. When I was fourteen, I was dying. I didn't feel any pain because of the drugs but I knew that I was going to die and it was all my dads fault. When I was sixteen, my dad said that I was going to live. My mother was over-joyed but I was feeling resentful and complacent because I knew where I fit and sat with the world. If there was a God, he probably would have taken me out of it with my eagerness to meet him.

And when I was eightteen, I graduated high school and went to college. I think it was the way that the world, the world of a Kenway was supposed to work. I graduated early because I cheated, but the grades were hard earned at the tip of my figure tips. And when I was 24, I opened my shop and repaired items for people who broke them for a small and affordable fee. That's how life was supposed to work, right?

And then I met a guy. And then a girl. Someone who protected me and taught me how to run and live. And then I met two people who kidnapped me and thrust me into a living nightmare. And another guy who pulled me out of it.

At the age of 25, I fell in love. Love that was on purpose and needed. And then he died and left a hole in the world. And at that age of 25 I gave up and forgot how to live. I lost my purpose and my way and people left me alone to deal with it. It was better that way. But then I got a call. And in those four days I have been scared, hurt, scared more.. and everything was soon washed away with a nights rest and a drink of water. A drink of water that I deserved and fought for.

And at the age of 25, I've been reborn.'

Accompanying Lunair and Rose to the run down bar was something refreshing to Melody. Most of the travel she kept herself quiet. She suffered no ill effects of the Proving Grounds such as flu, sickness or some random disease. The people she were with didn't know nor realize that she was a walking timebomb of cancer that'll go off as soon as her nanites failed her for the final time. But they were inside, and it was quiet. A lone man in the back shuffling his cards and playing solitare, waiting for the night to end so that he could return home to his wife and kid; he was stalling. He didn't know how to tell her that he lost his job as an electrician, and how they were living off of her salary and savings to make ends meet.

There was also a woman and man present, quiet conversations in the corner. Something about prices of houses and how the economy was shit. Worried glances shared over a glass of burbon, her. a diet sprite. She was pregnant.

The Bartender, Ralph busied himself on a slow night by wiping down the counter top and engaging in random conversation with a regular; the 'did you see that game last night' and 'what did you think about the latest news in the polls'. Something about Lex Luthor and a possibility of a revolution. Then it switched over to cars.

Melody held her glass of water tight, it was mostly filled with ice but she liked it that way; something she could crunch on if she accidentally stolen a piece away with a quick swig here and there, the bites of ice snappy against her teeth and cooling to the tongue. It wasn't as if it were hot outside, but ice was just delicious because it was water. And water, is something she'll never take advantage of again.

Leaving the building and the debriefing Rose was mad. The end result was less that fulfilling. It is the best she could say about any family reunion… EVER. At least on the other Earth her dad seemed to give a shit when her brother took her eye in the struggle to save Lian… Lian.

Life. Fucking. Sucks.

As she walked with Lunair and Melody, aiding Luna here and there where necessary, she took moments to tear her hair down and discard the weapons… Except for that scarf from her person. They did not mean shit to her. Her hands clenched to fists and knuckles seeped that blood still from being ripped off to bone, ut the muscle and trndon had returned, it could be -seen-, literally.

When they got to the bar she sat at the table long enough to place and order and watch, wait for it…

A slender male staggered into the bathroom wearing grease stained and torn jeans as well as a metal shirt, Rose pushes up and goes into the hall.

A picture falls from the wall and an old neon light bar sign rattles.

Rose comes out wearing the mans shit, but she was ripping the middle of it off and tearing the neck down after cinching the belt low on her waist. Making it hers.

"Couldn't be someone I wasn't much longer. Now I am Harold with tits." She says as she reclaims her seat and takes a shot. "I know Luna. Who the fuck are you?" She leers at Rant now, both eyes visible. One dead and milky white, the other a dead blue.

She had her merc-face on.

Lunair is the disease haver. She's that monkey from Outbreak. If one is immunosupressed anyway. Having burned up so much of herself was an odd feeling. The last time she was so sick and dancing along a razor's edge was when she was young, living in an isolation ward and mostly disconnected from the world while diseases ate at her organs. Why was it you live? Why was it you were made to live? Lunair's not sure. Were her parents afraid? Did she have parents, being part of the 90s wave of super soldier experimentation? Uncertainty nibbles at the fringes of memories. Tampering, a creation with a spattering of desired characeristics and a vague idea of heredity. She's not even good at it! How frustrating.

Such thoughts bobble like buoys with impertenant seagulls adrift in a sea of memories and fevers. She is comfortably numb, once kept alive by strange and exotic machines, drugs with names long and ominous. But she's coming out of it a bit. Rest and food helped a lot, as well as water. Glorious, precious water. A crystalline miracle, more delicious than any she had tasted before. But she was equal parts shocked and surprised to see Rose and Rant there. "Wow." And Lunair will have a glass of water and soda alternating. No one wants the girl who make twerkers drunk. She looks to Rose, listening quietly. She tilts her head at Rose re-emerging. She's grateful the other gal her age is here and made it. "…" She is a social blank. Years of lab and hospital isolation rooms where human contact would likely kill her caused a loss of critical socialization. Her expression is strangely blank when she's not actively emoting or feeling intensely. And at this moment, she is quizzical and grateful, like a cat in a paper bag full of treats. "… Hi Harold-tits." She rolls with it, gently lifting a hand in a wave with a faint smile. Lunair is oddly serene and sincere sometimes.

Sitting still. It was something that she felt comfortable now. Stillness, her senses on fire, she could smell the poison that lingered around the bar in form of random drinks people shoved down their throats. She could smell the cigarettes, possibly the only bar that didn't give a shit about the law and rules and allowed people to light up and strike up inside where it was nice. She could smell the perfume of the pregnant woman in the back and the halitosis of the barkeep who doesn't take care of his teeth.

Rose's sudden movement has her lifting her gaze, watching the woman for a moment with a slight frown. Ralph didn't care about the man who walked out back, this bar it was everyone for himself. Herself, and Rose just marked her territory by naming herself Harold with Tits.

Once the words were directed at her, she forces out a little smile that barely reaches the eyes, her tone wasn't even, it was half chipper half not. Glad at her current status in her life.

"A nobody." She pauses, she didn't like that term and yet she did. She did because it fits. "Melody Kenway." She finally offers up, a shaky hand extended in the gaze of the merc face that makes her turn away, sel

Melody Kenway says, "A nobody." She pauses, she didn't like that term and yet she did. She did because it fits. "Melody Kenway." She finally offers up, a shaky hand extended in the gaze of the merc face that makes her turn away, self conscious. No. Don't be afraid. She bled and fought for this one. In her own way. "Rant if you like the codenames." She no longer cared if people knew who she was, she felt herself untouchable."

Rant's hand is left hanging in the air. Rose isn't feeling very nice right now. A bruise that had been black along her jaw was faded to a mix of green and yellow already, that did not account for the other wounds that adorned beneath the stolen midriff makeshift metal tee and jeans she beat out of Harold. He's sleeping it off in the alley outside of the bar.

Sitting beside Lunair she is watching across the table at Rant who is trying to be nice, and Rose isn't cracking like she normally would under other circumstances. There is history here she doesn't tell, but it is making her revert mentally back to who she was before CADMUS got their hands on her.

"Ravager." She finally says before she downs another shot and then pours the vodka right from the bottle across her knuckles and then soaks a napkin with it, reaching beneath the table and only the faintest twitch comes to one corner of her eye.

Lunair on the other hand gets a light nudge just before Rose catches a waitress in passing and orders the bars house soup. It's likely old from their grills dinner serving but… right now, Luna needed it and none of them would care. Harold's pocket had a couple twentys. She was spending them.

Lunair looks between Rant and Rose. She isn't sure how to read this. She's likely pretty bruised bodily, especially considering she tried to magnetically push a maze and Taskmaster 'helpfully' stopped her with his shield and she went backside over teakettle. She look feverish, smiling at the nudge. She's an oddly sunny demeanor for the business. "I am currently Armory, but I need to change it. SOmeone keeps mistaking me either for a gal in armor or a guy in a trucker hat and honestly, it's getting kind of weird and upsetting," Lunair muses. And Mel's heard her called Lunair. "I think we're all a bit tired," She remarks quietly. She seems to genuinely care about Rose, even sympathizes. HYDRA's got crosshairs and multimillion bounties on her periodically. Weakness: Ladies in glasses.

"Sure, thanks. I'll get the next dinner," Lunair promises. "I honestly don't feel hungry much when I'm sick," She admits. "But I'm glad you're both here. Truthfully, I sort of kept this to myself."

X-Red had heard that Rose and Lunair has been… uncontactable and Brin has been trying Lunair's cellphone periodically during the time - and got lucky. Tracking the gps on the phone has led Brin to this bar, the one that she's just wandering into, still dressed as Illyana had clothed her - short, tight crop top and /tight/ hipster jeans, with high heel boots, the /very/ reserved mutant barely supresses the urge to tug at the top and pull it down.

Spying Lunair at the booth with Rose, and the woman from the concert, Brin makes her way over to stand by the booth "There you are! We've all been worried!"

The smile from Rant fades almost immediately, her hand still hung there, soon lifted to point fingers to the sky as she lowers it to rest upon the glass. Nothing else is really said, these two women had a bond. She wasn't good with bonds anymore, especially when all people did was either leave or die on her. Her hand lifts to rub at the back of her neck as she glances towards Lunair, nodding towards Rose as she offers up a name.. finally.. at long last she realizes where she's known Lunair, but it was all kept mum. New beginnings, right?

"I'm not trying to be a creep but I can probably help with you being sick." Melody offers. It was a quiet one, not one she was expecting anyone to take up because the nature of the transfer. Blood to blood, after all, is a bit unsanitary, bizarre, and often times gross. "But if not, that's cool to—.."

She stops talking as Brinley approaches, her gaze falling into the glass as the water slowly devours the frozen ice, bringing a frost to the surface. She really wasn't that thirsty anymore.. but she takes the water to sip, gotta get that 8 glasses a day!

"You need to eat, even if it is reheated. Either drink with me, or eat the damn soup. Calories and sweating that mess out." Rose did not always have enhanced abilities, she recalls her mother and the ladies when she got sick or hurt during training..

A blink and she narrows her eyes again but at nothing but the empty shot glass, taing that moment then to refill it. Rant then gets a look that is not so forboding, one that has her tipping the vodka her way in an offering, both white brows rising in silent query. A least those are back to her natural platinum, that hair still bears grime, dirt and the temp stain of honey upon it, woven with that silvery white of wear-off eau naturale.

Her offer to help Lunair brings her to pause and deadpan Rant, flicking eyes up and down on her. She was not blind, she saw what she did and could coorelate parts of what the depth was, but how the hell would talking to a machine break Luna's fever?

Brinley's approach though has Rose bringing her other hand upon the table, the bloody napkin sopped in vodka was being used to clean an unrevealed wound upon her side is slopped wetly into the ashtray.

"It's been a shitty week. Luna came to help me." Taking one for the team!

"…" Lunair is looking a little feverish. Unfortunate side effect of powering one's item making by burning up serum and tissues. She smiles weakly at Melody. "It's okay. I should've been more careful with myself. I appreciate the thought. If you like gardens, or stuff, you should come with us to the Botanical garden. They have some rad ancient plants." She's trying to offer the olive branch. She's just a social blank on many levels and playing catch up. "I suspect this is just something I have to put up," She offers.

Lunair nods at Rose, and will try some soup when it comes. "Okay, but you should make sure you get plenty of water, too." Lunair does care about Rose in her own way.

Her eyes widen as she sees Brinley dressed in…


She looks confused, looking between Brin, her water, Brin, her water… Brin through the water. Huh. Wardrobe change! "Wow. Summer wardrobe." Then a nod at Rose. "She helped me too. I've been kind of sick," Handwave. That's the truth, at least. Mostly.

+MEET: Bobby Drake has arrived via +meet.

Ravager LOG NOTE Amends last line of pose: "It's been a shitty week. Luna and…Rant, came to help me." Taking one for the team!

Brins attention is caught by the blood and vodka soaked napkin as Rose drops it into the ashtray. "May I look at that, Rose?" She's been doing her EMT training with Nick and can at least provide basic field triage.

Lunairs attention and comment causes her to blush - dreadfully, "Illyana's idea." That might explain why her look has changed.

Brin had caught the end of Rants words, followed by the rest. "Rough week, huh?" Knowing Rose, rough probably doesn't begin to describe it. Looking at Rant, she offers a very small smile "I'm Brin." If Rant chooses to introduce herself, that's great.

Bobby's in not far behind Brin and blinks as he sees Rose. "You okay?" Rose seems tough. Okay, tough is an understatement. Rose seems unbreakable. But a lot of that is 'seems' and he doesn't want the woman bleeding out. If that's something that's a danger at the moment.

The ice nerd glances over to Rant as he sees her. She looks fam- ah. M-Town. The Festival. Kwabena. That's right, she was with him. What was her name? Eitehr way he waves to her and Lunair as he comes on in. "Quite th group we've got here."

Melody kept her head down to hide the smirk that played upon her lips as Lunair gets scolded. If Lunair didn't want her help, soup and hydration were her best choices. She'd even offer to help Ravager, but there was a slight twinge of fear at the rejection and the reaction as well. So to avoid that, say nothing. Keep head down. Finish water. Which was gone in a few gulps.

But excuses were made in the form of comraderie, Melody had nothing to offer Brinley aside from a simple nod and a muttering of her name; 'Melody', and a few other words that possibly seem unrecognizable. A look to her skin-watch and a slight slam of her palm against the table, she pushes the wooden chair back, the weight of her, which was not much now, causes a loud scrape against the ground as she draws herself to a stand. Which was good, Bobby's approach sealed the deal in her leaving.

Too many people. She was a natural introvert, she couldn't handle so many people standing close and conversations moving in all directions. And being with that motley crew for close to a week had her wanting some alone time.

Her skin sparkles briefly, her consciousness tapping into the lines to seek out cellular devices.. which took about a minute. She had to ping the nearest tower first, do a locate search.. bam. Cell phones accessed but logs not read. Not read at all. She was a nice enough person to not look at the possible flesh pics that were sent from one lover to another.

"I'm leaving." She announces in her weird way. "You all have my number now." Don't ask, don't tell.

The chair was politely pushed in with the same scrape against the floor, her hand grasping at her hair to flip it aside, fingers soon drawing down upon the scalp to scratch an errant itch as she nods towards Bobby. "No offense. I just need to go to New York." And with that, she leaves.

She hated goodbyes. The last time she said that to a person? They up and died on her.

"Some people do not change, no matter what dimension…." Beat. "Or whatever." Rose states in her own way for response to Brinley's attire. Where Rose was from she was on a team with Illyana and a few others, and her attire was considered comparable, it'd make the others laugh at times.

Blonde metal bitches.

Even that look right now is deadpan and cool, another shot of vodka for Rose to be the prequel to the soup tha the waitress now delivers. Rose hands her the two twenties appropriated from the pockets of the jeans and gives a flick of limp wristed fingers to shoo the woman off. Change is hers.

"Luna and her first." Rose says to Brin, the nod to Bobby slow with a shrug that almost sets her head into a roll to redirect her eyes upon Rant.

"I change my phone… Daily. I ain't hard to find." A moment of thought and then aweak smile is offered. "Thank you." A show to put on. A story to back up. Color Rose intrigued, but that will come later.

Sitting up now she slides from the booth to allow Brinley a seat beside Lunair.

"We were on our way back for her. I just needed new clothes and a drink." The clothes sure did not look new, but eh. Semantics in this whole thing will kill you!

Lunair is quiet for a moment, trying to process what's going on. "Oh. It's really bold and confident. You can wear as much or as little as you like. I don't know," Lunair is at a loss, really. It's cute on Brinley. Lunair is sick, feverish and all that jazz (thankfully, no jazz hands or she might have to get put down). She waves to Melody. "… she seems shy?" Processing. Unable to locate conclusion.dat. Please try again. Mmn.

Lunair doesn't push it. "but if I go first, you should have something good to eat. Do you like kobe beef?" She asks wryly. Lunair does care, even if she's not bold enough to push Rose. It's the friendship thing. "Yup. We made a pitstop. No dart drones this time at least," Lunair celebrates the little things in life, taking joy in simply *existing*. Her dying wish was once to feel the sun and air outside. "I am sorry I made you worry. I hope you guys are holding up?"

Brin will check her cell phone later and she nods to Rant as the woman leaves. Right now her attention is on her fellow team mates.

Nodding to Bobby to watch Rose, Brin turns to Lunair and snorts at the comment on her clothing. Bold, is one way to describe things. "I've learned, in a very short time, not to argue with Rose. She said to look at you, that's what I'll do - and the quicker we do this, the quicker I'll get to check on her. So, what are we dealing with." Brin can't see any physical injuries.

Bobby puts both hands in his pockets and stands back to let Brinley do her thing. "What the hell happened to you Lunair? Please tell me you're not getting darted again." THat had been something of an ordeal.

"You okay Rose? You both went black for a week. We were getting worried. If the team hadn't had a small meltdown we'd have come looking for you by now."

Rose lowers the bottle of vodka, leaning against the edge of the booth, those too large leans held aloft low on hips by a worn belt, holes riddling the front with oil stains, the old Megadeth shirt torn to make into a midriff, the collar ripped enough to allow room to breathe…and hang off a shoulder. The boots were hers and familiar, that was the only thing that looked better for wear beneath the saggy cuff line of denim.

One shot taken, the bowl of soup plucked and used as a chaser. Hot.. okay it burns… swallow… but actually good. Damn these surprising hole in the walls… "She is running a fever, if you get her to take down the armor she likely has bruises and contusion, likely small fractures. But she may be lucky…"

Rose is going to state it for Lunair, she cares for the girl and will show it her abrasive demanding manner. Keep her alive or I might unchain the inner pit bull. Though /who/ would suffer… Let's just do another shot and chase it with this mystery 'House Soup.'

"I got invited to a challenge. If I lived I get street kudos. Lunair found out by going through my shit and came to help. Only way to help is enroll." And with a gesture she swept between herself and Luna.

"It is my fault. In my world, street cred matters." Though what Bobby says gets no reaction from Rose save a steady gaze and a small smirk.

"I had a long night with Berto. He told me over several drinks and flirtations." Nothing happened, but Rose tried to talk some sense… Some. She's bad at that shit. She's bad at teams, but she -tried-. Where's her monkey sticker?

Waitaminute. Lunair's eyes widen at Rose. "She also was worried since I'd gotten sick," Lunair admits. "But please don't be upset with Rose. I haven't been darted at all this past week. New record." Beam. Lunair takes what she can get. "I meant to take her shopping when I got better, but I'm not bouncing back fast enough," She frowns. She is a normal human in terms of healing. Which, granted, is a thousandfold upgrade from life in an isolation room while microorganisms and cancers ate her away.

"Anyway, I suspect a bar isn't the place for this. We can go back to campus and I'll talk about stuff there." Lunair accepts it, but there's obvious wide-eyes and concern. "I - wait? What? Are you guys okay?" Are the walls melting again? Shit. Damn fevers. Damn team confusion. "… mostly probably ribs busted," She finally admits. Maybe. "But um, that's kind of embarrassing…" So … let's haul me, maybe?

That does it for Brin and she raises an eyebrow at Bobby "Get the car?" She'll help Lunair out… she's sure Rose will follow. "I agree with Lunair, back to the campus and the infirmary there. Rose, let me do a field dressing quickly and we can go." The news that Rose had visited 'Berto gets another quirked eyebrow, but Brin keeps her own counsel there.

"A challenge?" Street cred is not something Bobby gets but he understands that its important to Rose's line of work, so he nods. Okay. A challenge and they… oh wait. Long night wit hBerto? "Told you mmm? We'll have to talk later about that. Thanks for trying though, seriously. Not many would. I imagine he was in something of a mood." That might also be an understatement.

"Wait… Lunair you have broken…" Ohgod. "I'm going, I'm going." Bobby's already jogging to get the car.

Brin is insistent, she has to give her credit. A shift of those mismatched eyes from Luna to Brin, then Bobby and back she exhales and takes another long shot from the bottle, finishing chaser-soup and sets the bottle and bowl down. Her knuckles are exposed to the point you can see flesh torn aside and the re-mended tendons flexing with motions as she plulls up her shift slightly, exposing the gash over ribs, spinning her back is laden with 50 shades of bruises but just at the small of her back to the lef tis am open gash, knees are abrazed, back of thigh so wide it could talk, and that is where Rose had ripped the jeans and rested the vodka laden napkin while she sat.

Emabrassing! It's too close to her ass cheek.

But she ripped the jeans moreso to get to it. Lunair was likely worse. Shake a can of tuna hard and for 7 days and see what you have left. Luna is lucky and that is why Rose is concerned.

Slowly Ros eleans forward and /bends/ at the waist, she even places a finger over her lips and casts a shy look over her shoulder at Brin. Yep, she's finally a bit drunk and trying to make this amusing.

"Gauze me, sexy nurse." Wolf-whistle.

From the back door Harold without tits comes in, wearing the VERY tight red and gold lined (obviously womans) leotard/uniform with a cleavage revealing V down the front. Was a pity he had no boobs really. He was so angry he was damn near frothing.

"WHERE tha fuck is my MEGADETH SHIRT!" ROAR!

"Oop, no time!" And Rose is righting to nudge Brin and Luna out the front door.

"Bobby's fast right??"

Lunair is quiet a moment. "Okay," She murmurs. Lunair is a bit silent on the talk of street cred. "A little," She nods to Bobby. It happens! But she didn't get darted. Lunair's eyes widen at Rose and then… ACTUAL HAROLD WITHOUT TITS. "NOT HERE. BYE." Even with busted ribs, it's time to do the shuffle-shuffle out.

Rose trying to make this amusing just causes Brin to blush bright red, right down to the band of those low rider jeans… Thank goodness for Harold without Tits… really. "Lunair, be…." She lets the words die as she lets Rose urge them out…

"I don't know about Bobby being fast, but he can certainly drive quick" she shoots to Rose as they exit.

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