204/Of Roller Skates and Delinquents

From United Heroes MUSH
Jump to navigation Jump to search
Of Roller Skates and Delinquents
Date of Scene: 29 April 2017
Location: East Side, New York City
Synopsis: Summary needed
Cast of Characters: 34, Darcy Lewis




Jonothon Starsmore (34) has posed:
Woo, Saturday! No school today, woo! Because of that, the local skate park in Manhattan's East Side is crowded with kids looking to show off their awesome moves, both with roller skates and skateboards. A few scuffles and some posturing when one group strays into another's territory, but overall it seems more or less calm. For now, anyway.

On a railing at the far side of the park, though, there's a young man sitting. His feet rest on the middle bar, the heels of his boots holding him upon his perch. He'd look more or less normal, with his nondescript brown hair and brown eyes -- though he seems to have a case of perpetual bedhead -- but for the way his face is wrapped up.

Some sort of black wrappings, something like bandages, start just under his nose and go all the way down as far as it can be seen. The black T-shirt hides how far the wrappings go. Besides the wrappings and the shirt, he wears black jeans and those low-heeled boots. And right now, he's sitting on the railing, leaned forward with his elbows propped on his knees. He seems like he's just watching everyone else.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Woo, Saturday! No work today unless something explodes or superpowered aliens from aother planets decide to make a pit stop in Central Park again, woo! Also arriving at the skate park is an adult. Short, barely over five feet, in a hoodie and baggy pants. Her long hair is back in a sloppy ponytail and earbuds can be seen disappearing into her ears. An large athletic duffle hangs off a shoulder.

Darcy Lewis heads to that railing, awya from the postering. Because seriously, children. Without even giving the boy much of a second look she drops her bag down by him and unzips for her skating gear... while humming to her music... okay. less hum and more half singing: "Shit. My glass is empty..."

Jonothon Starsmore (34) has posed:
The boy dressed in black on the railing looks in her direction as the woman shows up, but doesn't offer any remark. Should she happen to glance in his direction while he can see her, he offers a slow nod of greeting. He also raises a hand to his forehead briefly and gives a... well, it's not quite a salute, but it's close.

Should the woman know American sign language, that is the sign for 'hello'. If not? It's an incredibly sloppy salute, from a military perspective.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Darcy's green eyes flick up, a grin on her red lips. The sloppy salute is smiled broadly at and returned. No, Darcy has no idea it's ASL. And she's not mimicking. She's mocking... mocking all the stuffy military cross overs at SHIELD and their crisp military salutes of greeting. The boy's motion looked like a sloppy version and it reminded Darcy, amused her and... greeting returned.

Turning back to her things, Darcy shrugs out of the hoodie, down to a high-end sports bra. The baggy pants are tugged off next, leaving Darcy's lower half covered in hole-ridden tights. Three layers of tights and fishnets, all different colors, though the main one is black. The outter clothes are rolled into a ball, the earbug chords untangled and the buds set back into her ears, and then the clothes are shoved into her duffle. Protective gear, 187 knee and elbow pads, are tugged into place.

Jonothon Starsmore (34) has posed:
And the teen has no idea that Darcy doesn't realize it's ASL. The mimicking was pretty close, accounting for someone not really knowing ASL very well and trying to mimick anyway. He looks away to the crowd again, though there's a bit of a double-take as Darcy starts stripping down. Though he's at least polite enough to look away. No staring, kid! At least he doesn't blush anymore.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Stare or stare not. There is no try. Such is the way with the unapologetic Darcy Lewis, whose proportions are hella curvy. With the gear on, she pulls off the army surplus combat boots, one whose toe is more duct tape than toe (Bright Rainbow Sparkle duct tape is the top most layer. Visible beneath are skull and cross bones.). The shoes are shoved in after the clothes and skates are pulled out next. She handles them like they are little more than tennis shoes, pulling them on her feet while staying and without a moment's balance check. All laced and set up, Darcy fishes about for a pleated school girl mini skirt to wrap about her waist, and a studded leather black belt.

"Hey. Mind watching my bag?" she asks of Jonothon, looking up at him at the tail end of her question to catch his answer.

Jonothon Starsmore (34) has posed:
...Yeah, Jono's probably going to end up failing to not stare. Because he likes that outfit, and she's cute. But he at least is polite enough not to make it too obvious. Just sort of stealing looks every so often. She's out of his league -- hell, they're not even playing the same SPORT -- but that doesn't mean he can't look, right?

Though he looks up quickly when Darcy speaks. He heard her, so he's probably not deaf. So, since he heard her, he nods to the question. Sure, he can watch the bag for her. He's not going to be sports-ing it up out there, so there's no sense in letting her bag go unattended.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Not having even considered he wasn't a hearing person like herself, Darcy smiles broadly when he agrees and, because Darcy also has little sense of personal space, she reaches for his chin, grabs, and leans in to press a kiss to his cheek. Likely leaving red lipstick behind.

Her grip smells of sweat and leather from her wrist guards.

And then, she's off, pressing her wheels into the cement to sprint down into the crowd of kids nearly half her age without the slightest moment of self-conscious awkwardness. She doesn't need their approval. She doesn't want their approval. This is public property and Darcy means to skate the week's stress away.

Jonothon Starsmore (34) has posed:
Something weird happens when she grabs his chin. The chin just... doesn't seem to be there. It's hard to describe, but it doesn't feel like she's got hold of a person's chin. It's more like... she's got hold of fabric stretched between two points that has nothing between them. Depending on how sensitive her sense of touch is, she even might feel something sort of... squirming around under the bandages...

And in fact, when she pulls away, a little puff of something like fire escapes from the top of his bandages, near his nose. It doesn't seem to burn anything, though. But he claps his hand over the bandage there as if to stifle it, a horrified look on his face, desperately hoping nobody saw that.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Throught the wrist guards, Darcy really couldn't feel much of anything, and she had turned away too fast to notice the puff. She might have snarked if she had. So, instead, the woman skates for a good while, looking back over to see if the boy in black was still there or looking ready to go and waiting to be polite. When at last she's gotten in a good work out, though Darcy feels like she could skate for hours, she makes her way back over.

"Thanks."

Jonothon Starsmore (34) has posed:
The boy in black is indeed still there, not to worry. He's keeping an eye on her bag, making sure no one tries to grab the bag of things. And he's not going to go through it either. He might be a delinquent but he's not THAT much of one.

Jono had actually been worried about removing the lipstick, too. Because he can NOT go back to the Institute like that. He'd never live it down! But yes, he's still there. When she comes back over and thanks him for watching the bag, he raises his hand to his chin, taps there, and gestures outwards and downwards. Sign language again, though 'you're welcome' is a pretty common one.

Jono shifts a bit, to pull out a smartphone. Opening an app, he starts typing, and then the phone speaks, in a male voice, <<You're welcome.>>

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Face flushed, slightly sweaty, Darcy start pulling the protective gear off. Her head tilts at the new sign. It's not one she's see before, but she thinks it means Welcome? Which would make sense given she had just said thank you. Darcy offers a smile in return. Each piece of gear she shoves into her bag, green eyes flicking over as the app smpeaks. Anothe smile, one that's prideful at having guessed the sigh's meaning, graces her face.

"So, you can't talk? Okay. Thanks again."

Jonothon Starsmore (34) has posed:
More tapping on the phone. At least he's a pretty fast typist on a phone. And pretty accurate too, even accounting for chicklet keyboard. Though his statements via the phone are still kind of stilted and abrupt. But... chicklet keyboard. <<Nope. Mute. Gas main blew.>> Assumedly he was somehow caught in that explosion.

It's a lie, but she has no way of knowing that. Well, not unless she's super-good at reading people. He's not looking at her. Then again that could just be his normal disposition, too. Or he could be working on typing the next thing the phone says. <<Can hear though.>>

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Of course, Darcy could just be one of those people who takes everything in stride. So when he explains, she nods.

"Suck. Sorry to hear it," she states easily, airly. She does feel bad for him, but she's not going to like wallow. I mean, the boy's probably sick of being feelnig sorry for him. Darcy's not about to feel sorry for him. After all. He's alive! Silver linings.

"But glad you pulled through to watch my bag. You're my fucking hero."

Jonothon Starsmore (34) has posed:
Jono kind of appreciates it, that she's not going to go all 'oh God I'm so sorry', and the like. Because, well... that's not what really happened. So he's all too willing to let that little white lie fade into the background.

At her words, his eyes narrow a little and his cheekbones lift, the motion indicating a smile. Type type tap tap. <<No problem.>> Notably he doesn't have a reaction to the curse either.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Gear off, leggins dark with sweat at the knees, Darcy works off the skates to put her boots back on.

"Fucking gorgeous day though," she says, because small talk.

Jonothon Starsmore (34) has posed:
Jono nods at the statement. Type type tap tap. <<Glad it didn't rain. Forecast was iffy.>> Small talk! Yes! Jono can do this. He's kind of out of practice, though, for a number of reasons. Some of which he's still keeping secret.

More tapping, though. <<I'm Jono.>> The phone is a little weird, though, so he had to spell it out as 'Jo No'. He's feeling a bit more relaxed because people think he's normal here.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Darcy Lewis. You can type D, or Tits. Whatever's fastest for ya," she quips in reply, mischevious grin on her face as she zips her bag up now that she's in boots and her workout clothes. Too hot now to put on the outter clothes.

Jonothon Starsmore (34) has posed:
Jono blinks in surprise at the offer of that particular nickname, and looks at her as if he wasn't quite sure he heard her. It takes him a moment to get past that to register the actual name past the 'nickname'. Then he starts typing. <<Darcy works. Wouldn't want to be called Dick.>> There's an amused look to his features though, when the phone says this, the narrowing of his eyes having a mischievous appearance.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
"Now why would I do that, Jono? Dick's short for Richard... and sometimes just plain short. You... have been nothing but a fuckin' gentleman," Darcy retorts while pulling the bag up to her shoulder.

"But I'm now hungry. Wanna go for lunch, Dick?" She winks.

Jonothon Starsmore (34) has posed:
Jono actually... well, he can't laugh anymore. But at the words 'just plain short', he does duck his head a little, his cheekbones lifting in amusement. It's at least a physical '*snrk!*', if not a verbal one.

Though, well. The mention of lunch gets a pause. It's like he's trying to think. <<Can probably treat you to something. I ate earlier.>> It's a quick way he can deflect attention from the fact that he doesn't actually eat anymore. Worst comes to worst he can tell her he eats in a weird/disturbing/gross way and prefers not to do it in public.

Darcy Lewis has posed:
Seeing her mute friend laughing, Darcy grins and claps him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, Jono. I'm a big girl and can buy my own lunch. I was hoping to treat you, as thanks for watching my bag. So... we'll just have to see about running into each other again, which you haven't eaten, so I can make good on that." Just like that, Darcy's made plans for the future while completely accepting his excuse. She smiles warmly, gives his shulder a light pat, then turns to go.

"Catch you later, Dick! And let my get a word in edge-wise next time. I swear to Jesus, you're a fucking blabbermouth!"

Darcy out.