Smoke Ice and Sass

August 29, 2014:

Darcy Lewis, Bobby Drake and Shift share a few drinks at the Burning Human Festival

M-Town

A small bar in M-Town

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Mood Music: None.


Fade In…

Bobby is off duty now and while he doesn't ordinarily drink, he has stopped at one of the local watering holes on the way back to his apartment because, good lord, greeting the honest-to-God King of Atlantis is thirsty work. At least the guy seemed, no pun intended, pretty cool.

At the moment the ice nerd is just sipping his very lightly alcoholic beer in the red Solo Cup and sighing like it's the best thing in the world right now. Which, right now, it is.

*

Weekends are the best. Ever. Darcy, fresh from work, heads for the best cheap-ass beer in the city. She tucks her name badge into her bra (because if it's important, it belongs in her bra) along with her cellphone and her keys before she heads to the beer-stall and orders up. She turns and spots…

"Hey! What's your face! How's is going?" Darcy chirps bright, moving over. She's in her white button up blouse, which would have been conservative had she not undone the top two buttons, tucked into a black pencil skirt. The jacket's unbuttoned and slightly rumpled.

*

Bobby turns. "Oh hey! Jamie's date right? Darcy Lewis? Fancy meeting you here." He's still in the black security tee shirt like the other day, but he's added a colored button up (presently unbuttoned) to help indicate that no, he's not security right now. "You're looking pretty snazzy. Just in from somewhere?"

Not far away one of the concerts is getting into gear, thumping kick drum and bass easily audible from this distance. Bobby's not worried though. He's not on duty. Other people have this.

*

"I guess. It was one time, and his brother sucked him in front of me," Darcy confirms, grinning broadly. "Thanks. Work, actually. I needed a beer so effing bad, you have NO idea!" She says with Cosmo italics audible in her voice before she starts to wag her shoulders side to side with the beat.

*

"I think I caught a glimpse of you yesterday." The cold one says with a small chuckle as he sips his own beer. "You been hanging around and enjoying the music the past couple weeks? No one's hassled you I hope. Most mutants are pretty decent but there's a fair few here that resent normal people for one reason or another." Bobby used to be one of them. Lynch mob and all.

*

"Possibly. I came by to listen to a band I saw on Facebook. Came back for the booze," she replies with a healthy swig of beer. Darcy is not the sipping kind of girl.

"Only had to use the tazer once," is the reply that's given with a wink. Darcy knows she's being difficult. "Besides, even if I'm not a mutant, I wouldn't call myself ''normal''."

*

That earns a snorting laugh from Bobby. "I'm Bobby Drake, by the way. And If you're not normal, and not mutant then what would you call yourself?" Sure normal and mutant aren't the only two options but around here they're the main two. He takes another drink. Bobby is a sipping kind of guy, particularly with beer. He doesn't drink all that much. "Glad to hear you're enjoying it by the way."

*

"The Sass Mastah," Darcy quips, bright lips pulling away in a mischievous smirk. Her head tilts after a moment, green eyes going that wide of about-to-be-impressed.

"You helped put this together?" Swig of beer is best!

*

Bobby points a finger at Darcy's beer and makes a few ice cubes appear in it. "Nah. I'm just a cool guy and the organizers wanted some folks like me to help out with security since things are sometimes kind of… er… tense, around here. Just a thing, you know?"

He grins back and leans back in his seat. "Sass Mastah, eh? What does a Sass Mastah do?"

*

Darcy's green eyes flick to the suddenly heavier, now chillin', beer in her hand. They widen, her lips parting on a tiny 'o'. For a moment, she's silent, as if digesting that parlor trick. It's that moment right before most normal people would freak out. Darcy lifts her gaze back to Bobby.

"Totally chill," she says then, the grin returning before she drinks more of her now ice-cold beer.

"The Sass Mastah sasses everyone, even the refs," Darcy says with far too much proud in her voice.

*

"The refs? At least it's not the cops. You're in a sport then?" Bobby thinks, trying to remember if he can recall Darcy from any of the local sporting events. Too many though and he can't think of a one with a Sass Mastah. "What sport is that?" He's going to guess one with a lot of contact and room for trolling, since she seems to be rather proud of it.

*

"Former. Maybe I'll go back. Liberty Belles were ballah this season," she says with another drink of beer. She'll be finished on her next swig likely; drinking like a champ! "Derby. I was a blocker, mostly. But I'd jam once in a while… Usually when the cap wanted some hurt put on the other team's jammer."

*

Derby… derby… "Oh! Roller Derby." A few people at the office are kind of obsessed. "Gotcha. So you skate and such. Professionally?" He eyes her… uh, slightly modified business attire. "Do they have a dress code or something? Gotta look like you just got out of a fortune 500 job?"

*

Darcy nods as she downs that last of her beer, because beer is boss and cold beer is epic win in a cup.

"OH, no. Not professionally! I wish. Do the Belles payout? That would be rad, but I don't think current work would want me to quit to go play some high contact sport, though if you think about some of the crazy shit some of us DO at work…" Darcy pauses a moment to ponder, before shaking her head and laughing. "Oh, this monkey suit? Nah. This is my nine to five, ya know? I make sure everyone gets their mail and staples. It's super important!" She's SO sarcastic! She even has a sign for it.

*

"Oh gotcha. So you do have an office job. I know what that's like." Bobby doesn't, after all, do the security thing professionally. He's a researcher… who occasionally freezes things and/or people solid. The latter he doesn't like to think about if he doesn't have to. "Well it can be important. You ever seen an office try to operate without staples?"

*

"Once. Fifth floor. Almost had to lock that shit down. It was cray cray." Darcy smirks, looking over at the source of the sick beats, before looking back at Bobby. Her head bobs side to side a bit.

Bobby can't help but smirk. She's got the music in her, that's for sure. That or she just can't not be moving. Either way. "Well, are you going to head out and enjoy the rest of the festival or…..?"

*

"Or stand next to the guy that can make two dollar beer fucking ice cold and bitching? Hmm. let me think!" Eyes dancing, lips smiling, Darcy reaches out to loop her arm in Bobby's. Because she can until he hip throws her to the dirt. Which would suck, because this skirt is dry-clean mostly.

*

Bobby rolls his eyes good naturedly. He doesn't hip throw her because she's being nice and that would be rude. "Mmmhmm. Well I was gonna be out for a little while anyway." Now it's his turn to get a bit mischievous. "So were you gonna get another then." He's wondering if he should signal the 'barkeep' for another beer. Not for him. One's enough to take the edge off.

*

"Were you gonna frost my glass?" There's the faintest of eyebrow waggles at that as she grins and rattles the ice cubes in her cup.

*

Bobby holds up a single finger in offer. He used to do this kind of thing all the time for people who asked a lot less nicely - or amusingly - than Darcy so… "Why not? Not like it costs me anything."

*

"Bitching! Next, we're going to build a snowman," Darcy states as she starts toward the bar for another beer… and likly dragging Bobby with her unless he yanks back away. "And tomorrow, you're making waffles!"

*

"Do you wanna build a snowman…?" Bobby teases before… "Er, waffles?" He's definitely getting dragged. Darcy is probably close to as fit as Bobby is what with her hobby. And man can she drag when beer's on the line.

*

Just don't call her a drag to her face. Unless you're in drag. Taking a drag. "It doesn't have to be a snowman! It can be a yeti! Have you SEEN the Google Translate Sings!? Man, epic," she says as she orders another beer and offers it to Bobby. "You don't have to make waffles, cuz you're not staying over. I have a strict no staying over before you ask nicely to be my girlfriend policy."

*

Relieved Bobby is relieved. That could have been awkward. "Tell you what though…" He points over at Darcy's beer and chills it to the perfect temperature. "You make'em and find me, I'll snap freeze 'em for ya." He winks. "That way you don't have to get anyone to leggo your eggo."

*

OH! ice cold beer! Darcy drinks happily for a long second before coming up for air and wiping her mouth. "Only, I don't make waffles. No point in heating them from frozen just to refreeze them," she quips, winking.

*

"You'd be surprising how satisfying the crunch of recently warmed waffle can be. And it saves you the bother of making them later." Bobby is an expert in frozen foods. By necessity really. There was a time when he couldn't eat anything but.

*

"I don't make waffles. I nuke the fuck out of waffles and then drown them in syrup, the little shits." Darcy says, as if waffles were a mortal enemy. She even mimes the nuking and the drowning … and then the eating, just for good measure. "So, Bobbo. You off work?"

*

"Yep." Bobby rattles his own beer as by way of displaying it to Darcy, even though she's the one who handed it to him. "I wouldn’t be drinking otherwise. I'm gonna assume you're the same? It's the weekend after all."

*

"Weekends fucking rock!" Darcy says with a wise sort of sagenod. And a big ol' grin. And she finishes off her second beer. "You wanting to dance, party, get wasted, watch a movie.. waht?"

*

"Bobby eyes the bar. Widdershins is a bit of an odd place. Folksy most of the time. But plenty going on today. "Probably not get wasted." The ice nerd laughs. "But any of those others sound fine."

*

"Right on. Everything but getting wasted. I… might get more than happy… Three day weekends rule!" This statement is emphasized by Darcy thrusting a hand up into the air. The hand not holding her beer. Because that would be a party foul and a dry cleaning bill. Work outfits must remain nice and tidy! Thus sayeth the May.

*

The care free way with which Darcy carries herself along with the careful way with which she treats her work clothes only makes Bobby chuckle. "Well, everything but getting wasted and that blouse of yours dirty, it seems." It's almost like she's expecting to get called back in at any time. For now, Bobby's happy to let this oddly enthusiastic normal get her party on and enjoy M-Town hospitality. It's not often that M-Town is hospitable.

*

Why IS M-Town hospitable, again!? it's the skirt, isn't it? Speaking of… "Ooh yeah! Must not get hte shirt dirty. I just got this shirt. Cost me almost as much as my bras," she says, starting toward a ramble as she looks down her shirt as she tugs at it. "Do you KNOW how much quality bras gof ro these days? Fuck. I maxed out my student loans for these shits," she adds, pulling the front of her shirt down to the side and away enough so the Bobby can see the bright pink lace demi cup of her boulder-holder. Clearly, she's wearing a white cami under the button up to keep the OMG-HOTPINKBARBIE colored bra from showing through.

*

Be nice to the buzzed girl, Bobby. He reminds himself. "Actually I've got no idea how much either of those cost." Shirts he can believe are expensive. Bras? No clue. He's not the sort to go perusing through the women's section in department stores to satisfy his curiosity. The pink… well that gets a chuckle. Mostly because it's so at odds with the rest of the professional appearance.

*

Figures there would be a heat wave during Burning Human. When Kwabena walks into this particular dive bar, he's dressed to accommodate. Black tank top, slightly baggy jeans cut off mid-calf, a pair of high top black sneakers. This reveals that his left arm is covered in tattoos, Neo-traditional style in black only. Half sleeve. He casts silver eyes about, apparently looking for someone.

*

At the bar is Darcy, her blouse pulled down a bit to show Bobby her pink bra.

"The bra was eighty. Do the math," she sasses at ice-boy as she lets her shirt go. If it falls shut great. if it doesn't, great. And she brings her solo cup up for another drink. Did she finish her second beer yet? She's forgotten!

*

"Bobby whistles low. "Pretty pricey. No wonder that ate into your student loans." The ice nerds eyes track back to Kwabena, not because he knows him, just because he looks a little unusual. But, lots of people here do so once a fight doesn't seem in the immediate offing he turns his attention back. "Bit on the wild side though for an office job mmm?" That's also sass. Not like anyone at her job has a reason to see the pink.

*

"You want fahncy, you got to pay fahncy." Kwabena has sidled up next to Darcy, glancing from her to Bobby and back again. "What's up, Deep Dish?" Seems the Ghanaian knows the girl.

Catching the bartender's attention, he signals with a nod of his head that he's got next round.

*

"I am wild on the outside, I just have to wear a monkey suit to work," Darcy retorts, finding her cup empty. She's frowning at it, as if it were the cup's fault. When Kwa saddles up next to her, Darcy smiles. Leaning up, she gives him a peck on the check.

"What's up, Fish Face. Glad you could make it. I was almost gettin' worried. but then Bobby got me cold beer. We're going to make a snowman later. It's gonn abe epic," she states, happily taking the next round… and holding out her beer to Bobby.

*

Bobby laughs and chills the drink with a wave of his hand before extending it to Kwabena. "Hey there! Bobby Drake!" He's wearing a black 'Security' Tee shirt but it's covered by the unbuttoned colored shirt he's got on. Clearly off duty. "In town for the festival?" And perhaps, meeting the Sass Mastah here?

*

"… snowman?" Kwabena looks between Darcy and Bobby, a perplexed expression coming upon him, so perplexed that he seems not to have noticed a peck on the cheek! The expression is only broken by the arrival of beer in a red cup. "It's hot as hell outside!"

Still somewhat confused, he at least bears the sense of mind to be polite. He leans over, taking Bobby's had with a strong handshake. "Kwabena." He leaves it at that, before jerking a hand over his shoulder. "Just saw Justice play at de Brown Lawn. Den Deep Dish heah convinced me to come have a beer." He grins and lifts the cup in a toast, before downing a couple of big gulps. "Blech. Almost warm as piss," he murmurs.

*

"Snowman." nod. "I'm Bobbo's favorite. We will not be freezing waffles, because I can't cook them," Darcy says because that make complete sense. Her beer? Cold as cold can be. Trickles of condensation sweat along the sides. She drinks hershappily, even giving a little 'aaah!' for effect. Right out of a Coke commercial! And she grins, not offering Bobby's Make-Beer-Perfect powers. Those are hers. Unless Bobby wants to share them.

*

"Warm?" Well, Kwabena here does seem to be a friend of Darcy's. "Here, let me fix that for you." With a wave of his hand the beer is perfectly chilled. It's a talent. One that he's had a lot of time to practice.

"She's got about the right of it. No waffles. That requires more effort than apparently we're going to expend." Another nod at the bands. "They're good. They've got another show booked later this evening too if you wanna stick around and see them do a different set. The promoters really went all out."

*

Feeling his beer run cold, it only takes a second or two for a grin to form on the Ghanaian's face. "Smooth trick," he remarks, and takes another drink. Much better.

"Dey have," he answers. "Haven't been able to spend as much time heah as I'd like." He tilts head toward the door, indicative of the world beyond. "You know. Rahsponsability."

*

"That's not proper conversation in polite company, Snailbait," Darcy gripes at Kwa in a very stern sort of voice, leveling a finger at him. "You will offend the beer gods. And then what?"

*

Kwabena grins at Darcy, his silver eyes shining with mirth. "Den I will have to drink until I can't drink any more!"

*

"Better hurry then," Darcy challenges. "I'm ahead by… fuck. I forgot. It doesn't matter. Whatever." She drinks more of her third.

*

Now, a most daring look flashes through Kwabena's eyes. He lifts the cup, and the beer is gone in three… four… five gulps.

"I'll be impressed if you can shoot whiskey." Because Shift… he knows how to shoot whiskey.

*

"Whiskey? Puh-leeze. Tequila or GTFO, baby," is the retort before she pauses, appears thoughtful, then grins. "I.. don't have work in the morning."

*

"Tequila." Kwabena seems to consider this for moment, before smirking wickedly. "Ah! Bahtendah!" He taps the bar. "Two shots of tequila." A sideward glance to Darcy. "And beers fah chasahs."

*

"I am so letting you walk me home," Darcy says as she turns toward the bar. When the shots are poured, she collects hers, licks the salt from the rim, fires it back, then sucks down the lime wedge like a pro!

*

Synchronized shooting, live in M-Town! Kwabena laughs after taking the shot, and snatches up the beer to serve as a chaser. "Now we talkin'!" he exclaims, and reaches out to hook his arm around Darcy's waist. "Woman of many sahprises," he remarks.

*

It should be an Olympic sport! With Kwa's arm about her waist, Darcy laughs with abandon and drinks her beer leisurely. The lime wedge was the chaser? "Honey, you have NO idea," quips the Sassy One.

*

"Sweethaht, you're talking to a man who shoots whiskey like it's aftahnoon tea." Functioning alcoholic? Perhaps! Pearly whites clearly displayed for all to see, he catches the bartender's attention and nods again.

Two more.

Once the shots arrive, it's lick, shoot, and suck. Down the hatch, and a hoot comes from the Ghanaian.

*

Back to back! Darcy grins and follows suit, firing the shot of tequila and sucking on a lime wedge. She plops the shot glass on the bar, cheeks flushed, eyes starting to glassy. "Fuck me," she breathes before downing what's left of her beer.

*

"Patio." Kwabena tugs at Darcy. "Smokes." He pulls her along, beer in hand, seemingly hell bent on getting to the patio where he might suck down a fag.

*

Bobby gets up and follows them because Darcy's starting to look more than a little bit unsteady on her feet and while Kwabena seems like a good guy it's possible she may need a ride home or something like that.

*

You know, in the States that doesn't mean what you think it means. Darcy stumbles only once, but with beer in hand, she forces herself to move steadily enough that she won't spill any on herself. Which means, she's paying more attention to her feet on the floor than where Kwa's guiding her.

*

The patio. There is a light breeze, courtesy of a fan on the rooftop cover. Kwabena is quick to light a smoke, offering the pack to either Bobby or Darcy should they so desire. "You alright?" he asks, fixing Darcy with a direct look of genuine concern. He may know how to party, but he never likes to see someone go too hard, too fast.

The question is, can his counterparts keep up?

*

Bobby doesn't smoke, but he's polite about it. He sees that Kwabena is also looking with some concern at Darcy. Points for Kwabena. As for can he keep up…

Well that's a good question. Bobby doesn't really do the party scene. See ice nerd. Still, he's not drunk or stoned so…

*

He gets to be the DD and drive DL home. Nodding, Darcy waves off both the concern and the cigarette offer even as she leans against… something that's convenient to lean on. Kwa? Bobby? wall? "Fine. Haven't shotgunned in a few years, so.. I'm good," she replies.

*

Kwabena leans back against a support post, running a hand through his short hair for a moment. "Feels good to kick back. Relax." There is a moment where it would seem that something heavy fell upon him.

The Ghanaian looks between both, eventually letting his silver eyes fall upon Bobby. "How long?" he asks. Then, to clarify, "how long have you known? About yah ability?"

*

"Since I was nineteen." The sandy haired young man answers. "Almost four years now. It came out in a really big… er, kind of traumatic way. I hear that's not too uncommon." His resulted in a lynch mob that almost got him killed.

"I take it you're one of us too?" THe man looks a bit older and carries himself like someone who knows what he's about.

*

Still leaning, Darcy glances between the two mutants as they speak to each other, then remembers her beer and brings it to her lips. "Yep. His feet destroy roller skates, but his wallet replaces them with better. It's love."

*

There is a moment where Kwabena looks directly at Bobby, the weight of it all upon him. He holds out his hand, and in a moment, flesh and bone transform into swirling tendrils of black smoke. He allows the display to go on for a moment or two, before a sound of displaced air joins the reforming of his hand.

Kwabena glances toward Darcy, smirking ruefully. Then, he explains for Bobby's benefit, he explains. "I can do all four states of mattah." His head cants toward Darcy. "And I can change de density of my body. Lahgah, or smallah." He looks to Bobby, grinning. "Great fah squeezing yah feet into someone else's shoes."

*

"Cinderella then, mmm?" Bobby grins. "Though that doesn't really explain how you ruined Darcy's skates unless she was fleeing from a prince lest she turn into a pumpkin." So okay, some of his jokes could use some work. "Someone'll have to tell me how that worked out later." Right now he's just sort of listening to the African while watching the increasingly unsteady office worker. Her work must be something else if she has to cut loose like this to relieve the stress.

*

"What the what? Whoa, dude. That… that right there is- bigger, really?" Drunk Darcy lacks brain to mouth filter.

*

For a moment, Kwabena just stares at Darcy. "Yes," he explains. "Dat is… how I 'destroyed' yah skates." The hand is outstretched again, and following a momentary bout of focus, the whole affair just seems to grow, then shrink, the skin growing crusty before it settled back to a normal size.

Kwabena pulls the cigarette back to his mouth, taking a drag. The smoke comes out from his nostrils. "Don't ask me to show you liquid. Or plasma. One is gross, de oddah is… destructive."

*

"Can you, like, walk around like that?" Bobby asks, followed a moment later by… "And what would happen if I froze you?" The things that off duty Bobby thinks of in these moments are slightly odd.

"Darcy… are you okay." Bobby gets a biiiiiit closer just to see if she's going to need someone to prevent her from… faceplanting.

*

Darcy trades the table for a Bobby, leaning more than happily against the blonde. She smiles up at him, nods, then drinks more beer. Wee! Haven't been this blitzed in a WHILE!

*

There is a moment where Kwabena is tempted. Tempted to show Bobby just what he can do. Then he looks to Darcy, and a frown forms on his face. Why for, he doesn't say. He merely looks at Bobby in a meaningful way and says, "Make sure she gets mah clothes back to me."

Suddenly, Kwabena transforms entirely to smoke. His clothing falls to the ground, and the thick, black tendrils collect upon the floor before vaulting into the air, out of sight.

Only the burning cherry of a cigarette remains, falling to the ground amongst Kwabena's discarded tank top, shoes and jeans.

*

"Is… that a thing she normally has to do?" Bobby raises the clothes up to him on little pillars of ice so he can keep supporting Darcey. "Ooooookay, Darce. I think maybe it's time to get you somewhere a little less face planty." Like a couch. Or something. "C'mon. I'm off duty, I'll drive you home. Where do you live?" Already he's half hauling the plastered woman out of the bar.

At least someone was here to do it. On a side note, Kwabena's ability? Totally aces.

*

"You are NOT coming inside," Darcy says. Sober, she'd likely be aware of the double meaning that could have. Drunk as she is, she just reaches out to collect the clothing. "I don't know what he normally does. He was going to fish me his fish… or… a taco. Or snails. Something. But that poof smooke buhbye thing… totally news to me." She wobbles against Bobby as he leads her away, giggling. Maybe she should have had dinner FIRST, huh?

*

Maaaaybe she should. "Wouldn't dream of it." Bobby murmurs as he half leads, half hauls Darcy out to his car and, with some effort, gets her settled into the passengers’ seat. There's a 'whew' as he walks around to the driver's side. She's a lot more solid than she looks.

"Okay… where to?"

*

"THAT way!" Darcy says pointing. A giggle fit, and she rattles her address off. Cheap apartments close enough to wherever SHIELD keeps their HQ for her to walk to work. And hten she waves her handin the air, Kwa's clothes in her lap, and declares, "Home Juanita!"

*

Somewhere, on a rooftop overlooking the street, Kwabena perches. He watches from the shadows as Bobby walks her to the car, before disappearing into the night.

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