2011 09 12 Stabbity Stabbity

Log Title: Stabbity Stabbity
Characters: Mike, Revelin, and Richenda Grey
IC Date: Sept 12, 2011
Location: New York Subway System
Brief Log Summary: The trio share a subway car and chat. Once they reach their stop, the recieve a rather unhappy and violent suprise.
Rating: PG-13
There is no TS in this log: Yes


-==[ Subway System - New York ]==---------

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. It is late in the evening, to the point where it could very well be considered morning and the trains are going through the last of their routes. The cars are near empty with the exception of a rather unkempt person in car #3 catching a nap in the car until the moment they are sent back out into the streets for the remainder of the night. There are other persons on the train but it is this car the scene sets in. It is very quiet. Clack. Clack. Clack.

Chenda loves the subway. It's like an entire world in itself to her. The adventurous gypsy girl almost skips into the empty car from the one behind it, pirouetting to look all around. "Perfect. A car all to ourselves," she says, looking back at her companion. "Come on, plenty of room!"

"Room?" mutters Revelin from behind Chenda. "Room? Blimey - I can scarcely move in here." He comes up behind Chenda in the car, glancing about warily. He wears a reasonably long coat instead of his usual suede jacket, and long trousers. His hooves hardly make a noise over the sound of the car on the tracks. Tom brushes hair out of his face and grumbles. "How did you convince me to come down here? Where do I sit? I'm going to get filthy…"

Chenda laughs merrily and hugs the uncomfortable satyr. "Aw, don't be a wet blanket. There's plenty of room in here! And not even a long walk back to your place at the end, either." She lets go and steps away. "Be of good cheer, Tom. Use the poles or the straps if you don't like the seats."

That last comment from Chenda suddenly has Tom smirking to himself. "Poles and straps… steady on there, mate." For the moment, his humour is elsewhere - clearly not in the cabin - as he returns Chenda's hug with one arm. He moves forward a little bit, taking the advice and holding onto one of the straps with a hand as he glances about. "People actually travel in these things. All the trains, trams and whatnot back home are above ground. Crammed full during rush hour. Can't stand it." He pauses.

"Remind me why we're here again?"

The sleeping bum gives a slight murmur, before rolling, back exposed to the other riders while his knees hug the seat back. Whether this posture will continue with the stops and what not, that's hard to tell but this is the positioning he chose. As they sip past a lesser used station to zip into another tunnel, the interior lighting is the only source of visibility for the next few seconds before the sickly gray of the next station's walls come into view. The forward motion of the train starts to give, as it starts to shudder to a stop, there is a brief glimpse of a large man in black before the car passes him by, leaving him to deal with one of the latter cars. The train continues further down, coming to a stop prior to the next tunnel's entrance. The doors to one side open, allowing for anyone who wishes to depart the train. Despite the sights of others leaving, none leave from Chenda and Tom's car making the train's effort to be of assistance to car 3 for naught. When the doors close and the doors to the other side open to allow for the on traffic, another steps into the car. Dressed in much more suitable club attire than what is considered his usual choice of clothing, hair wild and in a bit of disarray, pale blue eyes look to the duo upon entering before giving a bit of an impish grin. "Small world," Mike greets. The doors close with a bit of a pfft and the musican's hand quickly grabs one of the bars before the jolt of the train can cause any harm. As for the unkempt man who was sleeping? He rolls off the seat with a thunk.

"I am steady… oh, I see! More Australianisms." Chenda grins, staying nearby. "This is part of the city, too. But we don't have to come here again if you'd rather not. We can just take the Revelin Taxi, right?" She glances up as the subway car stops. "Oh… wrong stop. But ours should be the next one."

And here's someone else! "Mike!" Chenda exclaims, before the train starts up again, making her sway in place to keep her balance. She has yet to grab anything, relying on her reflexes and superb sense of equilibrium.

Then the guy up front falls off his seat in a heap. Chenda glances his way. "Whoa. Is he all right?" she asks nobody in particular, watching to see if he gets up.

"I wish I could - but I can't while I'm moving," Tom comments, ruefully rubbing a hand over his mouth and jaw. "But you've got a point - once we're there, we won't need this anymore." He bats the side of the train-car with the back of his hand and immediately starts wiping his hand with a handkerchief.

As the train stops, his attention is split between Mike's entrance, and the plight of the man who fell of his seat. "Mike!" Tom exclaims, glancing back and forth a bit, frowning. "Of all the trains in all the world, eh…?"

The formerly sleeping Hobo, grumbles and rolls himself underneath the seat, a half assed hook of the leg around one of the bars his 'improved' plan for uninterrupted sleep. He gives another mutter, a shooing motion with his hand and closes his eyes once more.

Mike glances over towards the bum and gives a bit of a shrug, "Seems alright to me," he murmurs, voice a bit off but not bordering upon impaired either." His smile widens a bit as his adjustment to the train's motion emboldens him to wander from the door, positioning himself to the back center of the car before turning around, back to the door to car 4 and facing the duo that were on the train prior to his entrance, "You I can see." He nods to Revelin before looking towards Richenda with a bit of a nod, as he swings on the strap he has grabbed, trusting it to hold his weight, "But you, didn't you leave town?"

"Well, that answers that question," Chenda says, turning back to her friends. She smiles at Mike's question. "I came back. I had to come pick something up for the school… oh, right. I didn't have a chance to explain the school. I will, I promise!"

And she turns her attention to Tom. "Once we're there, yes. Don't worry, I won't ask you to get us out of here. I love this place. It's the only place in New York where the room moves and you don't."

You paged Richenda Gray with 'Body movements of Mike =Very relaxed, may have had some drinks but he doesn't seem to be all that impaired. Possibly high tolerance of alcohol.'

"That's… an interesting thought," Tom agrees with Chenda, and he wipes his hands together again. He appears able to keep his balance rather easily without holding on - and happier for it. "What do you mean, 'you have to explain the school'? Makes perfect sense to me. Boring classes, boring homework, interesting girls - or guys in your case - more boring classes…Perfect sense." He hmphs to himself and gives the hobo a passing glance before focusing on Mike. "Where are you off to, mate?"

Mike gives a tilt of the head, impish grin, "I'm guessing, school for the gifted." There is a marked emphasis on the word 'gifted' but there's not more given other than that in explanation to what he may mean. The musician swings back, looking over to Revelin, "Home," he replies, giving a tilt of the chin, "Best do it before the trains stop for the night, right?"

The hobo lies still. Snoozy face.

"Well, I didn't tell him about it," Chenda replies, looking in a sad-puppy way at Mike. "I meant to, but Miss Frost has kept me too busy to do any writing, and you know how I am with computers. I'm in a boarding school in Massachusetts. Hopefully I can get weekends away to come here from time to time, so I can go to one of your concerts like I promised. There are a few people like me there, so it's not all bad."

She grins at Tom. "Definitely boring classes and boring homework. The guys… well, most of 'em are stuck up. Old money, old manners, old prejudices. We don't get along."

Revelin sniffs disdainfully, nodding in agreement with both Mike and Chenda. "Sounds a lot like the 'school for the gifted' my parents sent me to. Arty-farty students - old money, yeah… fancypants every one of them. It's a wonder I survived." He gives a quick little shifty-look, considering the fact that he's probably not telling the truth, and then chuckles. "Who is this Frost woman? Is she one of the teachers?"

As he finishes asking the question, Tom trots further down the cart for a quick gander, glances down at the homeless man on the bench and then heads back toward Mike and Chenda. He suppresses a shudder. "I hate the subway…" he murmurs under his breath.

Clack clack. Mike is quiet as he looks between the two, not contributing to Revelin's revelation regarding his distaste for underground transportation. He swings quietly, looking between the two before finally opening his mouth. "Just curious, but what's the name of the school?" Mike asks.

Clack. Clack. The door separating the car from the one behind it slides open, allowing for a tall figure in black to step inside. Giving a tilt of the head as he looks to the trio and then to the hobo under the chair, he sighs, closing the door behind him before moving over to sit on a bench seat near the door he came from.

"Pretty much," Chenda agrees with Revelin, before she realizes he's probably putting her on again. Not like it'd be the first time. She grins and gives him a poke as he ganders by before her attention returns to Mike. "Massachusetts Academy. It's a lovely place, but I'm not sure I like the Headmistress… that Frost woman, yes."

She looks up as someone opens the door, catching sight of a figure in black, who doesn't seem happy to see them. She frowns thoughtfully as he sits down. But since he doesn't do anything else, she turns back to her friends. Still, she keeps him in her peripheral vision.

"At least it's an honest name," Tom comments dryly. "Frost. Perfect for a headmistress. I had a lecturer once called Miss Grunty - yeah, Grunty. She taught English, funnily enough-" the satyresque fellow breaks off from his little anecdote when the stranger enters the cabin, but only for a moment. He returns to his conversation with his two companions. "So she keeps you busy does she? Too busy to write? I thought teachers were happiest when their little cherubs were quietly writing."

The man Richenda and Revelin look at glances out of the window at the passing scenery seemingly finding it a lot more interesting than the people in the car. His hands rest on his lap as he continues this vigil. Oh look there's a brick. And another brick. And another.

"Massachusetts Academy…" Mike repeats, turning the name over in his mind for a bit before shrugging, "So simple." He glances towards Revelin, "So long as the students don't get into fights in their classrooms, teachers are happy. Less to explain to the parents."

"Well, that's the problem. I'm one of the oldest students there, which rules me out for being a little cherub, as if my skin didn't do that already," Chenda replies, smiling wryly. "So she's got me as one of her assistants, which keeps me too busy to write anything personal. But at least it's got three meals a day and a place to sleep."

Placing his hand on a pole briefly, Tom jerks it away and immediately starts wiping his fingers on his handkerchief again. He mutters a little, under his breath. "Ahem," he ventures a moment later, "So… fighting in the classrooms?" he looks between Mike and Chenda curiously. "That sort of thing happen a lot where you're from? In Sydney, the worst we had was using bits of paper and spitballs and shooting them at each other…." He trails off, suppressing another shudder and staring outside the train.

"Are we there yet?" he asks in a whining voice that is almost certainly put on - mostly.

Clack. Clack. Clack. Clack. The cab grows shadowy as the lights in the cab flicker for a few moments, but the car soon lights up again, showing everyone still in their chosen places. As the train rounds a turn, there's a high, muffled squeal while the standing passengers are made to sway with the misdirected momentum.

"So long as they're not mistreating you there." Mike murmurs, glancing over to Richenda as he opts to skip over Tom's question, "Do you have any classmates there that may cause trouble for you?"

"Not so much fighting, but plenty of heated words. Not at the Academy, just in general. I've been to a lot of schools," Chenda replies. "Australian schools must be a lot better run than American schools."

She glances up at Mike just as the car sways, making her sidestep to keep her balance and look around again, at the sleeping hobo and the guy in the back. "I don't think they're mistreating me, no. I'm not sure about one of my classmates, but I don't think she'd hurt me. I'm a little worried about my roomie, though. She trusts this Headmistress Frost a lot more than I do, and I don't see her that much anymore."

There's a frown on Tom's face at Chenda's answer to Mike's question. He lifts a hand to his chin, body swaying with the movement of the train, and shakes his head. "Jeez, sounds like some of the schools I went to. Australia has its fair share of violence and stuff in its schools - don't get me wrong. I saw enough of it - I did better over here, to tell the truth." In an effort to add some levity, he points a finger decisively at Chenda and smirks. "I think I'll pay a visit to this Massachussetts Academy for the Violently-Inclined. Do you think I could pass myself off as a new student?"

Immediately Tom tries to make himself look quite timid and mimics handing an imaginary fruit to Chenda. "Apple, Miss Chenda? Can I go to the bathroom?" He completely ignores the other two passengers in the car, his attention upon Chenda and Mike.

The background of bricks outside the window transform to painted cinder blocks. Blurry until the train gives another lurch as the brakes are applied once more. With the decreased speed the painted words announcing the stop be be Chelsea's station becomes visible. The hobo gives a low groan while the man in the back glances outside and starts to get up, hand reaching for a bar to assist in the process while the other just relaxes in a coat pocket.

"It depends on the school." Mike interjects, glancing towards the hobo once more as he slowly shuffles forward for his stop but pausing to allow for the other two to move. Surely they're getting off here as well. "One school was fine. The other, not so much."

Chenda stifles a laugh at Tom's imitation, miming accepting the apple. "Good morning, Tommy, and yes, you may," she replies. Her next mime is gobbling up the apple like a cross between Cookie Monster and something out of a grade-B monster movie. The rolling eyes are a nice touch.

She stops her act as the car grinds to a halt, moving to keep her balance. "I think this is us," she says, stepping aside to stretch upwards so her friends can get past. And so she can keep a surreptitious eye on the guy from car 4 until they get off.

Tom laughs. "Well… I've never seen a teacher 'gobble' an apple like that before," he remarks with a grin. "I think I might have a crush on this one." As the train stops and the doors open, he gives Chenda a nod and starts heading outside. "Yeah, this is us alright. You guys hungry? Mike, you planning on eating out or at your apartment? Why don't we go grab a bite since we're all here?" He shifts sideways a bit, for the stranger in black to pass through the doors, and waits there - half in, half out.

"I was going to-" Mike smiles, "Yeah, sure. There's a diner nearby with some late late hours." With the stopping of the train, Mike doesn't move as he glances over towards Chenda, waiting patiently as he waves her on ahead, not really knowing what it is she's doing.

The man in black steps up behind the musician, brow arching as he looks to the girl and the other guy holding up the line. The doors open, beckoning people to make their exit. There is a bit of an awkward pause.

You paged Richenda Gray with 'I'm sure he would have caught on had he not just been out partying.'

"Stretching, Mike. Go on," Chenda replies, reaching with her fingertips for the ceiling of the car. "Don't mind me," she adds, to the guy in black. She does edge back a little from the aisle, stretching her arms and back now. Tom gets a little smile. "Don't wait on Teacher, Tommy. She'll be along."

"Tommy," Tom mutters. "I guess I asked for that-yes, ma'am!" He adds that last bit in a pretty good imitation of a Southern accent, and then hops out onto the platform, waiting with a hand on the door. "Teacher had better be along after making me go all this way with her, today," he remarks lightly, but his eyes are distracted by the man in black, and a little apprehensive.

Mike gives a tilt of his head in curiousity before giving a nod. The time a door is open on a subway train is not the time to argue. He starts to step out of the subway car. Once out, he turns, glancing in towards Chenda. "Don't miss your stop."

The man in black blinks as he steps off, leaving little room for Chenda to get off of the car herself. He is seemingly unhappy with all of the delay that came with getting off the train.

There is a moan from the hobo.

Acrobats get stiff easily, and Chenda is no exception. She finishes relaxing her bones and muscles, and moves to step off the train… until the hobo moans. "Um…" she murmurs, looking at her friends and back at the sleeping man.

"Come on, Chenda!" Tom urges, releasing the door with his hand to beckon her forward. "Do you want to hold up the train? He's fine-" he glances at the moaning hobo. "I think." Tom frowns and beckons again. "Food awaits, fair one!" he says in an overly dramatic voice, like Errol Flynn, and hops up and down briefly, hooves clacking on the platform.

Sleeping in a subway car does not seem to be a productive task. Or so, this can be assumed as the Hobo rolls, moaning again. Oh agony agony agony. Will anyone please help this dear lost soul? Yes! Pay attention this one!

Mike's head tilts as he glances in to look to Chenda, "You can finish your stretching outside."

So focused upon the Chenda and Hobo inside, the man in black turns, a card dropping from his pocket as he pulls out his hand with something in it, taking a step forward as he swings his hand towards Mike's back.

"Won't have to," Chenda replies absently, still watching the hobo… untils he hears the sound of the subway doors closing. She instantly and reflexively steps forward, which means bumping into the man in the dark coat, since he's still close to the door. She can't see what he's doing. "'Scuse me!"

Tom rolls his eyes at the 'good samaritan' (Chenda) while she's still on the train, and has to hop back suddenly as both the stranger and she start moving forward. "Woah!" he exclaims, throwing up his hands defensively, even though he is not clear what is going on - save that people are coming out of the train rather quickly and he is in the way. Tom leaps backward instinctively, just enough to get out of the way. He makes a clatter as he lands on his hooves again.

With the girl's bump, the movement towards Mike's back shifts, brushing alongside as opposed to into. As the man's hand brushers with Mike's back, the musician's posture straightens in reaction as he lets out an exclamation of unexpected pain, his hand moves back, reaching blindly to a lengthy, growing redder tear in his shirt. "Ff-"

As for the man in black, he runs, the item in his hand glinting with the light of the overhead lights of the station.

"Mike?!" Chenda exclaims in alarm, hearing that sound from him. "You're bleeding!" From a cut that tore his shirt, and there's only one way that could've happened. Fury twists her features. "Come back here, you!" she shrieks, and dashes after the man in black.

"Mike-" Tom starts to shout, and then upon seeing the girl he once referred to as 'a damsel in distress' run off after the assailant, he shouts even louder, "Chenda!!" At the sight of blood on Mike's shirt, he freezes for a second. "Wh-what do I do? What do I do???" Part of him would love to run after the blighter who hurt his friend, but he shakes his head and throws of his coat. That's right - this is how they do it in the movies. He goes to press his coat against the wound in Mike's back, grimacing and going quite pale at the blood, but his eyes are ahead toward the exit - toward Chenda and the other figure.

Richenda's shout is not very audible as the sound of another train pulling into the station squeals over her. Nor does the man's movements indicate he would even consider her request anyways. The man in black is deceptively fast as he darts off. The blood kissed knife he wields in his handkerchief holding hand is soon flung off the track, quickly getting run over by the incoming train. His path does not travel a straight line but manages to zig zag. Seemingly treating Richenda like some mad rhino. There's likely an insult in that somewhere.

Mike grimaces, his twisting hand locating the jacket Tom's pressing to his back and proceeds to take over the task of tending to it. "I'm ff-" Mike starts, grimacing as he starts pulling out a battered mockery of a cellphone, "Ffine. Check on 'Chenda."

Chenda herself isn't so angry that she's forgetting what she is. She darts and weaves through the crowd, cupping her hands together to summon up a flashbang seed, heavy on the flash and light on the bang. When the man finally hits a relatively clear spot and glances back, she lets it fly towards him! She also covers her eyes, stopping for a second.

SYS: Richenda Gray rolls 1d3: 2
SYS: Revelin rolls 1d3: 1

"You sure?" Tom pants, his face still pale. He'd love nothing more than to get away from the blood that now stains the coat he probably unnecessarily used to staunch Mike's bleeding. He doesn't wait for a response. Free of his coat, he darts away from Mike's side and chases after Chenda and fellow in black, travelling in leaps and bounds to cover the intervening distance relatively quickly. He is much too flustered to even think of portalling, and this is quicker.

Tom leaps over a bench with two people sitting on it - probably giving them an eyeful of flying hoofs - and then passes Chenda just as she stops to send a ball of light arcing away towards the assailant ahead of him. "What on earth? Oh ff-" and he just closes his eyes…

As the man runs towards the other train as it starts to pull in, he lets out a curse as he finds himself temporarily blinded. He steers himself towards the stopping train, hands extended as he blindly feels for the door. Giving a growl, he raises his voice as the doors start opening "MUTANTS ATTACKING!" He shouts, triggering a couple screams from within the now exposed train.

Using his free hand to dial the cellphone to his ear as he presses the coat to his wound, Mike frowns at what he hears. "God damn f-ing busy signal."

"Oh, crap… Tom, get Mike out of here," Chenda murmurs, hearing that shout. Great. Not that it'll stop her from taking this guy down. For her friend, she'll deal with the aftermath. Right now, this guy takes priority. "Get down! Do you want to get blasted?" she shouts, trying to shift the blame, an instant before she launches herself at his back.

Tom lands semi-heavily-well, with less style than he would have liked. That happens when one closes one's eyes while mid-air in a leap toward an escaping villain who takes a flashbang (of sorts) in the face right before you catch up to him.

Just another day in New York.

He groans and gives his maned head a shake to clear it. "Get Mike?" he echoes and he nods. A portal spirals open vertically in the air in front of him and he leaps through - to appear at Mike's side a moment later. As that vortex closes, Tom opens another - its destination nowhere in the vicinity. Tom's face is strained. "Can't think down here," he says to Mike. "Hurry - this one goes to the hospital."

There's a bit of relief after Mike's frustrated hang up of the cellphone with the arrival of Revelin. Giving another grimace, he moves to his feet and steps towards the portal. He gives a nod. "Help Chenda." He requests before disappearing into the portal. Wow. Such trust. Although, bleeding like a stuck pig could be motivation.

The warning is enough to cause for those in that car to exit to another car. Blinking furiously to try and get rid of the after effect. The man swings around, throwing a fist blindly to where he think Chenda is based from the touch of a person who directed themselves at him with some force. "Get off of me," He snarls.

The punch is badly thrown, but not as badly aimed at it could've been. Chenda winces and her head rocks to the side as knuckles scrape her forehead. But she's still in this, and she can still see. She catches at the front of the backstabber's coat, snapping up a knee to where she thinks it'll do the most good. "Not a chance, Jack. This isn't a movie, and you're no Vin Diesel!"

She quotes movies - well, not 'quotes' but refers to them while kicking ass? Tom blinks as he lets the portal close behind Mike, and grins. A little levity like that can do wonders at the right time. It's enough at least to distract him from the blood at his feet - Mike's - and focus on the task at hand.

"Damn, that guy's fast!" he exclaims - only to wince upon noticing where Chenda aimed her knee. "Aw, sh….oot me." Tom takes a second to open a portal at his feet - its counterpart appearing in the air over the assailant's head - and jumps into it, hooves-first and hoping he's not too slow.

The subway doors start to close but the train remains still as the conductor has been somehow alerted to the situation going on in his train. As for the large man he continues swinging, one swing faltering as the knee causes some discomfort, "You have no clue what you're do-." His words are cut off with hooves landing on his head.

A couple guards start running down the platform towards the car containing the trouble makers.

"Yow!" Chenda jerks back as Tom suddenly drops from midair onto her opponent. She looks for a long, startled moment at him and Blackie, ready to jump back in if the satyr needs help.

Blackie, as Chenda so helpfully named him, stops moving. The weight of a full grown man with hooves landing on his face apparently being too much for him. He lies still. As for the security guards, within a minute, they have reached the side of the car and are working to have the conductor open the door for them.

Tom rolls to the side after knocking 'Blackie' down, and the portal vanishes. He looks at the man, then at Chenda - and then at the people outside trying to get in. He sighs wearily.

"I hate the Subway."

Tom Revelin leaps up to his feet and comes to stand at Chenda's side, keeping his attention split between the (hopefully?) unconscious 'Blackie' on the floor, and the security guards trying to get in. "We really shouldn't stick around, Chenda. I don't wanna have to explain this right now - we gotta go before this thing starts moving…and him, too." He gestures directly at his and Chenda's feet, where the beginnings of a portal starts to form.

"My place?"

The guards are still trying to get in.

"Anyplace but here!" Chenda replies, quickly embracing Tom. It's the only way she's ever gone through portals, and it's worked. Trying other ways can wait for later!

The spiral that usually precedes one of Tom's portals opens up and the moment it is wide enough to accommodate two people in a tight embrace - Tom and Chenda fall through it. A second later, it closes, leaving only the unconscious assailant on the floor of the train car, and the guards outside trying to get in.


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