Non-Mutual Hatred

Participants:

ash_icon.gif melissa2_icon.gif

Scene Title Non-Mutual Hatred
Synopsis Melissa runs into Ash again. They start to bond over nachos, but the bonding is halted.
Date April 13, 2010

Shooters Bar and Bistro


Ash sits alone at a table in the cafe, and once again he's sitting by the window, his head turned and his eyes staring out at the snowy land of Staten Island. His eyes move over the white covering the buildings, feet of snow evident everywhere. He shakes his head at it all, then looks around the place a bit before he leans his head back, a groan escaping from his lips. With the cold weather the kitchen has opened up at nights as of late. Can make a lot of money off of food when it's cold out. The place is mostly empty at the moment, just a few patrons milling about the place, a couple shooting pool, and a few others sitting, eating, drinking, and having a good time. Ash is hunched over a cup of coffee, his big wool coat on the back of his chair, and his head hung low over the steaming mug. He looks for all the world like he's nursing a hangover.

Melissa steps in and out of the cold, stomping her feet to rid herself of some of the snow. Hat and scarf are taken off one-handed as she's still got a sling on her left arm, then she glances around. Her gaze lands on Ash and a brow arches before she wanders over in his direction. "Should I bother asking if you mind company, or just sit down anyway?" she asks with a faint smile.

Ash jumps as someone breaks over on the pool table, a solid crack filling the air, followed by a bunch of smaller cracks. His hands cover his ears in futility, then lift to rub at his temples, slowly, fingers pressing firmly to the sides of his head. "For fucks sake…" he mutters beneath his breath, only to turn his head and look up as Melissa comes over to his table. "You sure you're not a tracker of some kind? Never meet you, then run into you everywhere I damn well go…" he waves a hand at the chair opposite from him, his eyes squinting to block out most of the light in the bar. His mug is lifted, a slow sip taken, but he breathes in heavily of the steam coming off of the mug.

His reaction to the sound has Melissa's head tilting, even as she sits down. "Headache? Or hangover?" she asks, as softly as she can manage and still be heard over the regular noises of the place. Her stuff is dropped into the chair next to her, coat shrugged off.

Ash rubs his forehead with his fingers, pushing the skin on it around slowly. "Hangover. Way too much damn whiskey. Had a girl challenge me to a drinking contest, said she could drink me under the table. I mistakenly assumed she was living in a fantasy world. Turns out, I was… she drank twice as much as I did, and walked away fine." He groans, and leans forwards, resting his elbows on the table top. "How about you? After the amount of tequila you had the other night… I bet you had one hell of a fucking hangover…" He shuts his eyes then, trying to block out the light to get his migraine to go away.

Melissa watches him for a moment, then reaches out to touch his arm. It's nothing more, just a touch, but as it did the other night, his pain begins to ease until it's gone. And quicker than the other night too, now that she's not inebriated. "I had a hangover. Gone now. Thank god."

The vigilante’s eyes blink a few times, surprise showing in their depths as he looks around, then back to Melissa with a thankful smile for her removing the pain, at least… while he's here with her. "Yeah… wish I'd known that it was a range thing the other night. Ended up taking one huge fucking digger when I tried to run…" He winces a bit in sympathy for his pain the other night. "I'd imagine so. You drank a fuckload of tequila Mel." A moments hesitation before he speaks. "Do you… remember everything we talked about?"

Melissa winces sympathetically. "Yeah…sorry about that. If I'd been sober I would've warned you. And I don't remember everything, some of it's fuzzy, but I remember that we have a bit of history in common. That much I remember."

Ash blows out a long breath before he gives a light cough of affirmation. "Yes, yes we do. I was a little looser the other night with information then I usually am. My pain, plus the tequila, and your drunkenness combined for … a shit load more information than I would have ever given out otherwise…" Food arrives then, or at least, his does. It's a rather large plate of nachos, with a few sauces on the side in little cups. His eyes widen at the sight before grunting. "I … so can't eat all this. Go ahead and dig in.." And he follows suit, his hand lifting to scoop a chip loaded with meat and cheese up before popping it into his mouth

Melissa shrugs and plucks a chip from the plate, munching on it. "Do you regret telling me? It's not like I'm gonna go blabbing to the wrong people and get you scooped up again. And not just 'cause they'd be more likely to scoop me up than you," she assures him, before she looks to the server and orders a drink. A coke, after a bit of hesitation.

Ash just asks for a refill on his mostly empty mug of coffee before the server makes her way away from the table. "Regret? I don't know. Not yet. You have not given me a reason to regret my decision… yet. I do hope that you don't, but… I don't hold faith on it." He tosses a couple more loaded chips into his mouth, chewing and swallowing, then washing it down with his last swallow of coffee. "More likely to scoop you up?" He chuckles, a deep rumbling noise as his head shakes. "With the things I've done since getting out?" He purses his lips, then resumes eating, enjoying the food, more so now that his migraine is gone.

Melissa shrugs and takes another chip. "They don't like what I am. Seems to be a common theme in my life, really. And they really don't like pain. Whether I'm actually causing it or not. But believe me or not, I'm not gonna get you locked up again. I wouldn't do that to anyone else, not even my worst enemy."

A smirk, a cocky one at that, is what steals onto his lips at her statement. "Well, they hate us, all of us. Just for what we ware, and where we were, whether we were there for a reason or not. I don't think they'd think twice about grabbing both of us, and doubt they'd make any distinction between us." more nachos disappear down into his mouth and down his throat, followed by sips from the glass of water that's been sitting to his side. "I wouldn't either… I would never put someone else in that situation…"

"Mmm…Yeah, you're probably right. Let's just face it. They seriously suck, more than anyone else I've ever met," Melissa says, nodding and continuing to steal nacho after nacho. "So what do you do anyway…Ash, was it? You just poke at them whenever you can?"

"With the biggest fucking stick I can get my hands on yeah." He leans back in his chair, his fingers continuing to move to the nachos, and bring back mouthfuls of food to be chewed and swallowed. "And yeah, Ash. I take great pleasure in causing as much damage and headache to /them/ as I can. It's fun, and more fun when they come after me, cause it tells me I got their attention, and they do like hunting me, yes… yes they do." He smirks, his lips quirking upwards on one side before he pops a chip between them.

Melissa smiles and shakes her head, but it doesn't look as though she can condemn him for his actions. "Just be careful that they don't manage to run you to ground. I'd hate to see them win another battle by locking one of us up in a box. They've done it to too many people already. And if you did get picked up, I might have to whap you for being sloppy."

A cold smile crawls onto his lips, not at all a friendly gesture when she mentioned getting snatched up and thrown into a box. "They've already tried. I'm sure they'll try again, and I'll be just as happy to deprive them of more teams of men for their troubles." He winks at her, but his voice rings with truth, though it's kept quiet and soft. He lifts a nacho up, and tosses it into his mouth, crunching down hard on it before he chews and swallows. "I don't get sloppy. Even now I am more than ready to fight my way out of this place, hangover or no." His coffee, and her coke arrive, and Ash offers the waitress a thankful smile before he lifts his mug up to blow across the top.

"Yeah, well, probably helps that your head is no longer feeling like you've got a spike or two slamming into it," Melissa says with a smile. Her coke is picked up, sipped at, but she keeps steadily eating on the nachos. Mmmm…nachos. "What do you do when you're not harassing them though? Anything?"

Ash is silent as he thinks over her question, well, silent but for the crunch of chips as he continues to eat, the plate dwindling downwards, but his rate of consumption has slowed a good deal now, getting close to being satisfied hunger wise. "Very little. I keep my head down, that is mostly it. I sit wherever I'm hiding, and I read, or I train myself. Go to the street fights, things like that. But very little for fun, or in between my harassing of them. That is my main focus… the focus of my life right now."

Melissa frowns a little, her head tilting. "Doesn't sound like much of a life." She gives a little laugh and shakes her head slightly. "And trust me, I know. I don't have much of one myself, though I'm trying. Sorta. Seems like people like me aren't allowed to have a life though."

Further silence greets that pronouncement, munching on nachos and sipping coffee. It's a good minute or so before the man speaks up. "it's not much of a life. I tried to have a life previously. It didn’t' end well at all. And the few people I had as friends, or at least acquaintances are either missing, I can't find them, or they have no desire to speak to me anymore because I stopped working for my old boss. Got sick of enacting his petty revenge, and decided to go into the business of retribution. Hit a few targets, made a public message out of a Humanis First member… then had to skip town for a bit. Get back, and can't find anyone."

"Name anyone but the person you mentioned before and I'll help you find them," Melissa offers with a nod. "I'm not saying that know everyone, but if I do, I'll help."

Ash sighs a bit at the words that are spoken to him, his face going slightly despondent. "I had only a few people I considered friends before I skipped town. The one you hate. A gypsy girl named Tzigane… a… previous lover named Isis… a friend named Angel, and Jet. Those are the only people I'd consider friends. And two of them only because they were in with us as well and I linked up with them after getting back to the city."

Melissa grimaces faintly and shakes her head. "Don't know any of those people, Ash. Wish I did. I'll keep an ear out for them though. Maybe someone else knows 'em."

Another sigh, this one heavier greets Melissa's statement. "Yeah, I figured as much. Most don't. Which means you hate the only friend I had and you're the only link and the only possible way I have to get a hold of her." He looks at her sadly, then goes back to eating, a few more chips before he wipes his mouth and pushes the remaining nachos towards Melissa. "I haven't run into anyone else that does. Only two people I can think of that would know where two of them might be… are people that I really can't stand and would rather pulp their face before asking for their help."

"And I would do my happy dance if she met with an untimely and deadly accident," Melissa points out dryly. "If it weren't for her, I might not have been drunk as a skunk the other night. You'd rather beat other people than ask for help? I'd rather gouge my eyes out than do her a favor."

Ash lets a brow inch up his forehead in little increments. "And anyone who arranged just such an accident would be wise to find themselves a long, long ways away from here should I learn of it." Yep, there's a pretty blatant threat in there. He doesn't know Mel well enough to know whether she'd do it or not after all. "Not most people. Just these two. And you wouldn't be doing her a favor, you'd be doing me a favor. And you didn't tell me what it is that she did to you to make you hate her so much."

"I'm not a murderer, Ash. I just said I'd do a dance of joy," Melissa points out with a dirty look. "And I told you. If it weren't for her, I might have a chance at being happy right now. Now can we drop it before I ruin what's left of my not entirely pissed off mood?"

Ash shakes his head resolutely. "That isn't telling me shit Mel. If you're going to hate my friend, and hate on them to me, then I want to damn well fucking know why. Otherwise, I don’t' want to hear another word about it." His voice is stern, not quite angry, but getting there. He picks his coffee up and knocks back the remains of it like it's liquor, then leans forwards and plants his forehead in his hands, his arms braced on the table.

"Did I not just ask that we not talk about her anymore? You're the one who's continuing to talk about her," Melissa says, shaking her head and rising to her feet. Money is dug out for her drink, plus some, and dropped on the table, then she starts putting back on her coat and such. "I gotta get going. See ya 'round, Ash."

Ash leans back in his chair, his eyes focusing on Melissa. He reaches into his own pocket, pulling out some bills and he puts them on the table before he rises to his feet. He cringes in expectation as he lifts up his coat and shrugs it onto his upper body. He doesn't say another word to her, just turns, and begins to walk for the exit. At the doors the man almost stumbles, not quite, but almost, lifting a hand to half cover his eyes as he pushes the door open and makes his way out of the bar.


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