Participants:
| Scene Title | Good Bad Girl |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Just because she hangs out at the library doesn't mean she's straitlaced. |
| Date | January 30, 2011 |
As they head on through the park, Daryl spares Smedley one last backward glance - that bad first impression is still lingering - but it's not too much longer before his mood ticks up once again. "Hope that's all the trouble we run into today. What do you want to do, anyway?" Besides just generally hang out.
Trouble does seem to always crop up whenever Koshka's around, and always in the most peculiar ways. It's not always a bad thing, sometimes, as with Smedley and his dogs, it turned out alright in the end. The near running over by two excited mutts has already been forgotten by the time she and Daryl are walking again. She glances upward, casting a sidelong look at the boy before shrugging. "I don't know. I usually just wander, and eat, and then eventually go home again."
If they were in a steady relationship— well, he might not need to ask in the first place, but also he'd be content with the answer she offers. He isn't. "Well, hell, we could do that by ourselves. There's gotta be something good to go do, right?" He's not sure what, though; none of the good clubs are hopping yet, and the only movie he was really hot on was the one they saw the other day.
"Yeah, well I don't really have any ideas." A whole city, far more square acreage than she'd been allowed to roam in the last two months, and Koshka can't think of anything exciting. "We could.. Go to the library. Or the playground. We could take over the swings and just talk … I don't know." With a pause and a glance up at Daryl, she shrugs again. "What do you feel like doing?"
The library? Seriously? They might as well just book one-way tickets to Pleasantville and get it over with. The playground idea sounds almost as silly… except that, somehow, the idea of Koshka on a swing is hard to argue with. He'll keep it in mind. "Well, a lot of stuff opens up at night," says Daryl. "During the day— usually wander the streets, play off of the crowd." Which idea, in turn, she may or may not be into.
"Yeah, that stuff that opens at night, before curfew?" Koshka shakes her head and presses her hands deeper into her pockets. "Kind've too young to go to those, in general." Not to mention, the guardian types might not be too pleased. "And if you mean pickpocket, I… am not that good at it. And I kinda don't do it anymore."
Her feet scuff against the cold ground for several steps, then Koshka looks up and ahead, the direction being traveled in. "I don't know. I fail at the whole hanging out thing, I guess."
Daryl follows along with the train of conversation, nodding, until— wait. Any more? Now this is the sort of thing that ratchets her up from 'cute' to 'really interesting'. Well, and cute. "Why don't you?" he asks. "Any more, I mean." No mention of his own similar activities, not until after he feels her out some more on the topic.
Koshka offers a shrug for an explanation, or filler until she's decided how to proceed. She tips her head slightly, looking up at Daryl. "Because… right now I don't have to. I'm… there's people helping now, gave me a place to live and stuff, so I help them too." And in turn, she tends away from pickpocketing and other things that would land her into trouble.
"Huh." Not exactly on the same page as him, then, but then she was cool with the card game the other day… "Yeah, I've swiped a few things too. Not wallets, just stuff from stores." Not that he can honestly claim he needed to. "But I like that you know how, I mean you gotta know how to take care of yourself. Never know when things'll fall apart again."
"Yeah, well.." Koshka shrugs and shakes her head. "Never cared for the risk involved, but sometimes lifting was easlier than others." Sometimes she got caught and had to resort to other measures to keep her skin in one piece. "But, had to eat. All the so-called charity the government offers was becoming a joke when… so I started pickpocketing."
Daryl rolls his eyes. "I know, right? My dad had insurance, paid up and everything" - one thing he admits his dad did right, at least on paper - "but they went and tried every line of bullshit they could come up with, how it was an 'act of God' and all. I think the only reason he got through it is that he already knew what they'd try to pull. And even then, you practically had to go out to Jersey just to find a motel room, the first month or two."
"Government's just a big…" something. Koshka frowns and gives her head a shake. "Stupid. It sucks what's happening now, and what's been happening since…" Since November four years ago, February nearly four years ago. "I hate it. What they're doing is wrong."
Koshka falls quiet, turning a small scowl to the ground. Her shoulders hunch slightly, hands balling into fists within the confines of her pockets. Love for the government is definitely something she does not have.
He's about to respond with another gripe - he could come up with something else soon enough - but, as with many things, it changes things when you have to watch someone else be on the receiving end of the world's troubles. Daryl takes a step forward, bringing a hand up to Koshka's chin and giving it a little lift. "Hey. Hey, it is— but you'll get through it. You've got people watching your back." One more than you did a week ago, the gesture might suggest.
Koshka looks up at Daryl as her chin is lifted, turning her scowl temporarily onto him. "Yeah, we'll get through it," she agrees, though doubt lingers in her tone. "Maybe, if we're lucky. Or it could all be for naught, some laughable game while the people who can slowly tighten their grip on society. Pretty soon, even going shopping for food is going to be all mandated and overseen by officials."
Daryl shakes his head. "Hey, no, we— Look, they can only squeeze so hard before people start fighting back. And if 'people' has to be us… I'm not looking for a fight, but if it has to be, then it will be. It's not like they can get away with doing it overnight."
Giving a shake of her head, Koshka takes a step away. "They can. Martial law, for instance. Riots are over, why's it still in effect? Suddenly they're mandating who can or can't take a bus or a cab or a train. There's not a lot left for them to take and so many people are all too willing to just let it happen."
Koshka lets out a breath and gives another shake of her head. "Sorry, that's… I hate it. I hate what's happened and still happening. All these laws changing and just.. happening." She closes her mouth, letting out another, slower breath, then turns to begin walking again.
Daryl follows after Koshka, gesturing with his hands. "See, that's what I figured years ago— you can't just rely on the system. Sometimes you gotta go outside. And you have! I have— look," he adds, pulling out his wallet and flipping through some plastic cards. "This is fake. This is fake." Yes, he's got a Registration card somewhere in there. "The people who just bend over and let it happen… they gotta deal with it." Or someone with a lot bigger selfless streak than he's got.
"I got out because I refused to be a sheep." Koshka stops walking and turns to face Daryl. "Sure, I still have an ID card, from when all that was needed for anything was a state issued ID. But there's not much good it'll do me." She glances around, looking to see how close anyone could be. There's enough foot traffic to make her wary, not that political statements aren't unheard of, but nearby cops or the ever present military could be cause for concern. "I'm… My stance on things got me living on the streets for a while," the girl ventures to explain, lowering her voice to just reach Daryl's ears. Might actually clear some things up, if not raise further questions.
The instinctive look around is echoed - are there any busybodies listening in, this time? - then, for good measure, Daryl points out a nearby patch of trees closer to the water. "You can tell me," he says, his own voice barely above a whisper now. "I'm not gonna freak out on you or anything, okay?"
Koshka shakes her head slightly, eyes picking out people too far to hear the whispers but near enough she's not sure about speaking. "Not here," she asks, also toned into a whisper. "I.. it's a long story. Just… not the best for…" She waves a hand, futile in trying to explain. "You don't know who might be listening."
Daryl nods. It's progress, at least, if her only objection to telling him is the location. "Okay, where do you want to go? I know some stores a few blocks down that oughtta be pretty dead around now." Not a perfect choice, but probably better than an open area at least.
"You remember that woman from the tent city," Koshka asks, still keeping a wary eye out as she starts walking again. "…She's a telepath." Evolved, non-evolved, it's never come up with Daryl that she can recall, and so bringing it up now creates further hesitation. "She…" Likely heard any thoughts before she approached the pair.
Walking might've put Koshka at some ease, though she stays careful in who's near or not. "I'm …lacking proper ID right now," she explains, hopefully loud enough that only the boy would hear. And understand the poorly disguised code.
A brow goes up at the mention of Remi. Huh, bums can manifest too. Makes sense. And then— Well. Yes, he understands just fine what she's getting at. No wonder she's taken the events of the past few years so hard. No wonder she doesn't want to be overheard.
Reaching into his own wallet, he slides out his own Registration card and places it in her hand. Unmanifested. "Here's mine. It's… a little out of date."
Taking the card, you might think Koshka were touching something icky. Well, considering how she feels about it… And talking about abilities is somewhat safer than identification. "What's your trick," she asks casually, returning the card. "Since you're saying it's out of date?"
Daryl glances around again - okay, it looks like the coast is still clear - and takes a couple steps away from Koshka, toward the nearest tree. And abruptly vanishes from sight. A few seconds later - the grass can be seen moving slightly, if she thinks to look down - he reappears, this time standing on the other side.
Now that's a nifty ability. Koshka grins once Daryl's disappeared, turning a full circle as she walks before returning to the original direction. "That's pretty cool," she says, still with keeping her voice down. "If I'd had that instead of what I got…" Man, she'd never have gotten caught pickpocketing. "…Where'd you go?"
Daryl circles around behind Koshka, remaining visible but out of her line of sight, until he leans forward to tap her on the shoulder. "Over here. And yeah, it saved my ass the first time… Okay, so your turn." Despite the curiosity evident in his eyes, he still keeps his voice down: nothing to (ahem) see here, just a couple of teenagers hanging out and not bothering anyone.
Koshka turns, and then again, until alongside Daryl again. She shakes her head, though can't help but chuckle. "I.. manipulate dust. And… dirt. Kind've useful, like in Midtown once, bought myself time by throwing out a cloud of dust on some thugs." She pauses to look around, over her shoulder then to her far side. "It works kinda like a whirlwind, irritating eyes and all that. Sometimes… sometimes it's worse."
At that, he makes a face. Property damage worse? Personal damage worse? A person could choke on dust if you kick up enough of it— and there are a number of people that he wouldn't feel too bad if they suffered such a fate, but she might be less cool with the idea. "Hmm, that's a good one, too. Guess you could get pretty creative with it."
Blue eyes seek out the ground after her explanation's been given. Likely, Koshka's thoughts touching on those same possibilities. She's already aware that her ability can cut through clothing and skin. "I guess," she agrees, giving a shrug. "Not afraid to use it, just.. gotta be careful and all. Not just because someone might see."
Daryl nods. "Same as anything else…" Abruptly, he straightens up, tapping Koshka's arm again and heading back toward the walking path. "Hey, c'mon, I think I know where to go— you been to that place over on 3rd and 70th, the one with all the neon out front?"
With a glance up at Daryl, Koshka gives a nod. She knows it, sort of. "Seen it before. Drew enough of a crowd that pickpocketing wasn't too hard." Wasn't too safe, either. She adjusts her path to follow, shuffling after the boy until on the walkway proper.