Immorals and Beasts

Brief Title:
IaB

Characters:
Wolverine Tigerstripe

Scene Runner/Watcher:

IC Date:
04/04/13 11:00

Location:
East River - New York

Summary:
Reality Warp! Tigerstripe gets bulked up…

Social or Plot:

TS:
No

Log:
The days seem to get warmer now, the sun breaking through the clouds more often. The riverbanks seem to attract some of the youngsters, mostly couples that hang around at the stairs down to the river.

Usually the X-Man known as Logan works at night, keeping his dealings to the shadows for the most part. The night lends itself to the anonymity that makes some folks feel comfortable. Then again there are those informants that don't come out at night and are more comfortable talking during the day where people can see what's going on and what's the deal.
Just one such informant seems to be Bibsy. He's a neighborhood regular along the river. Keeps to himself, keeps to his habit, makes the deals he needs to. But he's got a reputation of keeping an eye out and having the occasional bit of information out for people who pay the right price. Luckily he knows Logan, having dealt with the Canadian X-Man before.
So there the two are on this particular lovely day on the edge of the neighborhood near the river. Sure the smell lends a certain something to damage the tranquility of the day. Otherwise it's pretty nice overall.

Even when the weather gets warmer, some people seem to prefer to wear a long coat. One of those is the bulky person who had added even one of those 60's hats, that makes the look somewhat retro-style or Film Noir. Slowly the coated person, who indeed seems to be a very tall and broad built man with a white beard after a short second look, wanders down the pavement not too far away from the stairs. As he closes in to the muscular X-Man it gets slowly more apparent that some things seem odd. Even if there is a little wind, the coat moves too much for it and what seemed to be white shoes at first is obviously too wide and fluffy, as if someone went out to the streets in house shoes. About 50 yards of distance are still between him and Logan likely.

Bibsy finishes whatever is said to him and gives Logan a fist bump as the thin weaselly looking man gets set to depart. Before he goes, however, he tosses a nod in the direction of the approaching feller in the trench and their progress. It's enough that Logan turns his head and catches sight of the person, squints for a moment. He turns back and gives a small shrug to the departing informant.
Once the two men are split, the Canadian X-Man reaches into his coat and produces a stogey. The end is bit off, a flame flickers to life, and he proceeds to take a nice long drag on the cigar.

It is not too long until the distance between the broad shouldered giant and the small man of equal width melts together to what can be called a good calling distance. If the Canadian smoker gives it a closer look, details seem odder the closer he comes. If that are house shoes, then those that seem like tiger feet, and even as the hands are in the pockets of the coat, they seem oddly tall. Atop of that the beard does not want to fit to human hair as the distance is down to about 20 feet. It more seems to be the chin of a big cat.

That squint shifts to one eye as Logan stands there underneath the lamppost. A lone ship passes by down the river, an older tug heading towards the harbor even as the short X-Man stands opposite Tigerstripe and seems unconcerned. It's not enough that he got into a ruckus with the Juggernaut the other day... and paid for it, seems like something else might be kicking off here too.
With a small scowl, Logan ashes his cigar and then casually crushes the life from an errant ember with the toe of his boot. He looks back up towards Tigerstripe and then almost non-challantly leans back against the lamppost while folding his arms. Off in the distance Bibsy glances over his shoulder as if making sure that Logan's not getting killed or something.

A grunt is given back by the tall person, which seems to be a rumble, somewhat sounding like heavy stones grinding against each other. "Smoking wolfs. Didn't thought your kind would ruin your noses on purpose." is the reply of the person to the ashing, and it is not a bass you would wait for, it is a contra alto. For sure a female voice, but still the white chin remains. "The skinnies brought the worst over us." Her glance down to the youths at the stairs seems to tell she it talking about humankind - and seems to see him as someone at least vaguely akin to her.

That cigar trails a tendril of smoke upwards, wending its way towards the sky until it disappears a few feet over his head. He cocks his gaze the other way, as if trying to get another angle view on her. Whomever she may be, Logan isn't taken aback by her appearance. He's known his own fair share of cat-like peoples in his day. In fact he mentions a pair of them.
"Too tall ta be, Tigra. An no accent, so definitely not Hepzibah." Logan unfolds his arms and casually ashes the cigar again, then gestures to the side openly as if brushing past his own words. "Who're you darlin', n'more ta the point, what do ya want?"

A chuff is given back by the female - in fact she seems to carry a full feline head and feet. And as the hands are pulled out of the pocket, they are obviously paws. "Tigra... I remember something I did was attributed to her. let me count... three times." She replies without giving that too much weight. "Aye, names. What's the one of Mister Wolf I guess... Bigby? Well, Can go with Monique. Even as I don't know who this Hepzibah is."

Touching the center of his chest with one hand, Logan tells her levelly. "Logan." He remains where he is looking the picture of unperturbed and unshakeable demeanour. He takes another long drag on his cigar then refolds his arms as he asks her levelly, "So what brings you down this way, Monique?" His nostrils flare slightly as if taking in her scent, gauging her manner and what she says with that level aplomb of his.

The Tiger face shrugs, smelling of a mass of feline fur, that covers the entire body. "Taking a walk outside. And seeming to meet a fellow beastfolk. But I would prefer if you not start sniffing my ass as your more feral brothers do." she replies, the whiskers jumping a bit. Seems like on of this reality warps brushed through here.

"No offense, girl, but if I was ta pick up that particular habit yours wouldn't be my first choice of asses. As it were." Though the comment does get a small smirk at what she says. He finishes up the cigar with one long pull then drops it to the ground where he crushes the life out of it before picking the butt back up and tossing it almost casually into one of the pretty nasty trash cans on the sidewalk bordering the east river. He glances at her, "Enjoy yer walk."

The woman's eyes narrow together as he comments on her behind, which she herself deems to be well proportioned and accented by that tail. Well, it is hidden under the coat "So you say I'm not a pretty specimen of my kind? Or you want to provoke me showing you?" she answers, glancing over Logan closely.

This time the smirk stays in place as she answers him. A low rumbling chuckle slides from him as he tells her levelly, and honestly, "Darlin', I don't entirely have a clear idea of what kind you are or whatnot. Not that it makes a nevermind to me." He looks up into her gaze, utterly unintimidated even though she's much taller and bigger than him.

The head moves back a bit as another chuff can be heard. "Oh, so fearless? sounds like a honeybadger in a wolf's pelt to me." she replies, tugging at the collar of her long coat to get it open. "Sometimes I envy the skinnies for opposed thumbs."

"Yah, I imagine not havin' them makes life difficult," Logan pushes off and away from the lamppost, starting to walk down the sidewalk with an easy step. His footfalls carry him down the way a bit, most likely expecting her to follow him as she seems like she might. He glances over her shoulder and looks quizzical. "What're ya tryin' ta accomplish here, kid?"

"Not much. But you need to take those chances where you meet those that are kin to you, even if they are distant," the woman rumbles as she follows eventually, still working with the coat as she tries to undo the buttons. "It's getting warm."

"So are ya a shapeshifter, or are ya locked in that form?" He asks this probably purely out of curiousity, though it would explain a few things one way or the other depending on her answer. Logan continues on his steady ramble along, footsteps even as his hands slide into the pockets of his leather bomber jacket. He looks to her awaiting an answer or for her to finish with her overcoat.

"There's nothing to change to. Unless they find some genetic purge. And hey, people do pay to get such bodies." At least they seem to do in her reality. The one where this Were-Tiger Form of Monique comes from. "You did pay your check too, didn't you? Or were you one of the lucky winners of lottery?"

"Not sure what yer talkin' about, girl." Logan steps off the curb into the street as he walks, moving past the occasional puddle and bit of garbage tossed on the side of the road. He tightens up his jacket with a small grimace and pulls the zipper up a little higher. Glancing over at her he tells her straight, "Always been like this, born and bred or whatever."

For a few seconds the rough feline face seems puzzled, then she seems to sigh "Seems like reality messed up." she mutters, looking around "At least I hope it is just that. How about sitting down somewhere out of view?" she asks.

A scrunched eyed gaze is given to Monique, but then Logan shrugs and lets her lead on to where she likes. Sure he might be suspicious and sure he might not be entirely clear if this catgal is on the up and up, but then again he probably feels he can handle whatever she throws at him.

As if a bulky body makes a good fighter, because even if she possesses the body of a beast, Monique does not know too well to use the potential power. Pointing to a small bench a bit outside of the plain view she tries to direct him. "You heard the news? Genosha?" she asks on the way, having stopped to hassle with the buttons. "Things went crazy there. And apparently reality with it." Sitting down there eventually the wood barks on the weight. "I did manage to find out that at least two realities interlap at the moment. It seems in one I am... this and in the other I am less bulky. Mine... well, in mine people pay lots to look similar to me. Here... not."

A grunt is given before he pauses in an alcove under the overpass that leads to the bridge out across the river. It's a place that's suitably out of line of sight, though it's also pretty disgusting considering that this is where a lot of homeless types or junkies shoot up. This time of day though, it's a ghost town.
Logan tilts his head to the side, his neck giving a small metallic cartilaginous crackle. He nods to her and says, "A'right, I heard mention of it. Think I've seen it once or twice before. But in any case. If I figured it was happenin' ta me I'd probably lie low for a while."

With a chuckle that more sounds like a rumbling train she replies "can't say I look too different here. But what I got from my other self’s notes and documentation, we are different enough. And of course I'm curious. Just is hard to tell when this exchange happens," is her the answer to his comment, but then her picture seems to flicker a bit. "At least for me. As tested not for video footage."

"Well still, should prolly go lay low, kiddo." Logan waves a hand to the side as if dismissing her to go back to her apartment or whatever she might have. He gives her a nod. "In any case, nice meetin' ya, Monique." He lifts a hand to his head and starts to give a small gesture of departure, almost like a faint salute though not executed with any real effort. He starts walking down the sidewalk again.

As he turns to leave she lifts a paw herself, as the flickering returns "Wait a second." she says. Apparently the little light that is created around her form retracts through the shape to her inner, and then it becomes visible again. flicker, flicker... and then a flash.
Once that is gone, the form on the bench dramatically has changed. From 7 and a half feet down to 6 feet and 7 inches, and gone is all the bulk together with the furry paws and feline head. Plus the coat falls open from the sudden lack of mass in it, revealing that her other self seems not to have bothered to get something to wear around the chest. Still it is furry, but more a downy fluff than actual fur. A quick movement of the hands pulls the coat closed with a muttered "I hate that..."

She still towers over him, just not quite as pronouncedly. He slips his hands back into the pockets of his jacket and gives another grunt of mixed confusion and understanding, as if he gets it but not the details of it. Logan lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck and pauses in mid-step to turn and consider her. "Another reason ta stay in." His nostrils flare slightly and it's still her, still the same scent, just slightly different and not quite as... primal if anything.

For sure not as primal, but even more human. Maybe even more human than primal, but the feline streak is there. "To stay in... dont say that other me... for sure, couldn't stay in the lab or at home. I wonder how long. What exactly did we talk about? things are... a bit hazy."

A smirk flickers over his features and with a wry look to him, Logan tells her with his most inscrutable face. "Ya made a pass at me, something about smells and asses and the like. Was really pretty embarassin'." He tsks slightly, clucking his tongue almost condemningly like some primadonna as he starts to walk down the sidewalk again. Over his shoulder he tells her, "Another reason ta stay in, ya might get taken advantage of by evil immoral types. Like me."

A sigh is given to herself - it's more an alto now and it lacks the rumble. "Help yourself..." she mutters as she gets up again, making sure the coat stays closed as she looks around to get home bare feet. "evil immorals tend to prefer women without claws and tails."

"Ehn, I'm tolerant of the whole claws thing. Tails, I might have ta be convinced." Though probably not very much. Then again Logan seems more like he's enjoying Tigerstripe's discomfort more than anything else. He gives her a nod then, shifting his tone a bit less antagonistic as he tells her, "If'n ya want I'll call ya a cab. This ain't exactly the best neighborhood ta be in without a ride..." Then he looks down at her feet and adds, "Or shoes."

Monique nods "well, Cab would be great." she sais, showing her short claws a second "I was told they hurt. And I know they cut Car doors." A bit she might look like Tigra, but she is not. Too tall, not her behavior and for sure not a cop.

"A'right, you wait here. I'll give one a call." And with that said he starts to walk off, though true to his word he fishes a cellphone out of the folds of his jacket and proceeds to dial up a cab service. He's out of view before the cab arrives, crossing the street and heading deeper into the neighborhood. But to his credit... the cab does show up only a handful of minutes later.

- - - Fade To Black - - -

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