11081/This is my house!

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This is my house!
Date of Scene: 09 May 2022
Location: 3B - Alexander's Greenwich Loft
Synopsis: Quiet leaves more of her junk at Alex's house and then abuses his hospitality!
Cast of Characters: Quiet, Alexander Aaron




Quiet has posed:
A grenade falls on the floor of the hallway outside Alexander's apartment door.

Thud.

Shuffling feet noises.

Quiet's boots come in to frame. She stands beside the grenade, and reaches down to snatch it up off the ground. The pin is still in the handle.

She holds the grenade up to her chin-level, and just exhales. Turning, the young woman marches back to the red wagon she has parked outside the door. The handle is picked up again, and Quiet knocks on his door.

Rap rap rap rap. Tap tap.

She then just reaches down to test the knob and see if the door opens.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    In New York City in this day and age for a person to have an unlocked front door? It would be madness. Certifiable and insane to leave oneself open to the predations of the world beyond. Assuredly no one would be so reckless as to take that risk.
    But the knob clicked as she opened the door and appeared before the entrance to the apartment of someone who has apparently not one fuck left to give in the matter of personal security. Which might be surprising considering the rather high caliber sniper rifle that sits on the dining room table still in its state of semi-assemblage. Though, to be fair, when he leaves the house he locks up.
    It's just that right now he's in?
    For she'll see across the way the upside down silhouette of the Olympian youth hanging by his legs from the pull-up bar that spreads across he hallway. Like some dangling bat with his t-shirt hanging down around one shoulder and his head, with his hands behind his ears he seems in mid sit up as he freezes and looks across the way...
    "Was... was that a grenade?"

Quiet has posed:
Quiet would've just reached through the door and unlocked it even if it had been locked. It's generally how she lets herself in when he's not here.

She sees him upside down that like, and just wheels the wagon in filled with grenades, and small arms like pistols, and pistol ammo boxes.

She nods her head at his question as she wheels toward the kitchen table.

Her black leather combat boots shuffle back to the door to close it, then she walks back to the wagon.

Rummaging around, she lifts up a box, then carries it over to where he's hanging, and bends down to set it on the floor so it's 'above' his head.

It's a big box of Krispy Creme donuts. Still warm even.

Shuffle shuffle shuffle. The woman in the black fishnets, short army green denim shorts, and black airy tanktop goes to sit down at the kitchen table then.

Thud. A clump of four grenades is set down on the table.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Oh that's evil," He says at the revelation of the donuts, his eyes lifting 'upwards' to them even as he's partly risen. But he does complete the movement, twisting smoothly. His grey sweat shorts whispering slightly as his legs shift while he grabs the bar with both hands to unhook his feet and /flip/ to the floor with a light thap-thap of bare feet.
    Then he's rising, black t-shirt falling back into place as he walks across the distance, but not before snagging the donuts in one hand and picking one out, but then closing the box after that one. "You know you don't always gotta bring food."
    Yet the big bite he takes out of the donut reveals that his heart isn't entirely into those words. Yet he shadows after her in her wake, pausing to consider the gear she has deposited.
    "Surplus?"

Quiet has posed:
Quiet's eyes are down on the grenades. Her pink lips moving around a little, right, then left, as she fiddles with the caps, then tears off some of the warning labels. At his getting near then, she looks over at him. A stare for a second or two, then she leans down to get the Speak and Spell out of her wagon.

The old toy from the 80s that she's converted to having a female voice. She taps in to it before setting it down.

Robot voice. "It is only polite."

Her hand goes over then to the box of donuts, phases through the side, then phases back out with a donut. She takes it and puts it up to her nose to smell it. "Mmmf." She mutters before setting it down on a napkin on the table.

She very rarely ever eats anything, because her body can't digest food very well anymore, but it doesn't mean she doesn't WANT to.

She then reaches for one of the pistols, and a box of ammo out of the wagon.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    It's true, it is polite.
    He drops into one of the seats near and takes another bite of the donut, chewing for a time as he considers. When she goes for one of the pistols and the ammo his eyes follow with, noting the caliber and the pistols she chooses, then his gaze flits to some of the empty clips. He'll hold one up toward her with an eyebrow quirked with a silent question asked. And if she does not seem adverse he'll start loading rounds into the clips, assuming that will be of help.
    "I had been meaning to talk to you." The bullets click into place, thumbed into the clip and depressing the spring slowly. "About magic." He says at first as he pushes another bullet home. "And curses."
    A few more in steady succession then he adds, "If you're concerned about those things might want to steer clear for a bit."

Quiet has posed:
Quiet goes about the same, filling up the magazine for the Desert EAgle she's holding in her hands. When she has it loaded, the mag is slipped in to the gun, safety on, and she sets it back in the wagon. Her brown eyed stare goes up to him as he talks, and the bit about magic has her lingering her gaze on him for a moment.

"Nagi." Quiet says, in Navajo. Meaning 'No.' She's not scared of magic.

She sighs then and reaches for the Speak and Spell again.

"Magic. Is. Weird. But. So. Am. I." The machine says for her as she sets it back down and reaches for that donut again. She tips it up, then leans down to smell it again. "Mmf." She utters there-after before sighing sharply and putting the gun back in its holster in the wagon.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "Well yes," Alexander says in reply.
    He makes sure the safety is on and then adds the pistol he loaded into the wagon. The process is a peaceful one to him, reminding him of ages ago sitting at the kitchen table... breaking down and cleaning various firearms while his father held a stopwatch. A very homey activity.
    "But a series of holidays are coming up, and usually... one or another member of my family usually takes this time to make a nuisance of themselves while my grandfather looks the other way."
    He draws another pistol to himself, ejects the clip, checks the chamber then starts to load. But there, warning is given. Then he tilts his head to the side and asks, "How are things going with you?" A beat then he adds, "And SHIELD?"

Quiet has posed:
Quiet lifts up a .357 Magnum revolver then, and starts to slip some rounds in to its cylinder as she listens to him with her eyes down. She shakes her head side to side at his summation of his family up to no good. When she looks up again she's chewing on her bottom lip as she seems a bit lost in a thought.

Her head shakes and she seems like she wants to say something, but instead she just cracks a quick smile, then shrugs her bare shoulders and looks down again.

Once the revolver is loaded, its put back away, and she reaches for the Speak and Spell.

It sounds out. "I. can. move. all. the. guns. until. it. is. clear again."

Plastic clatters as she sets the machine down, then lifts up a giant machete that she pulls out of a sheath to inspect the blade of.

When she sets it down on the table she just sighs.

"SHIELD. is. always. up. to. something. Their. people... are weirder. than. I. am."

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    A nod is given as Alexander murmurs, "I've worked with some of them." He says quietly, looking around at the gear that's stowed in the apartment. Then his attention slips back toward her. "They seem to be of a diverse approach when it comes to spycraft."
    A hand pushes through his hair as he looks back to the near silent young woman. "Some are very professional, focused. Others..." A beat is taken as he considers how to phrase it, then presses on. "Are less so."
    Then his smile twists a little as he cants his head back her way, "You ever think about going straight and getting a normal job?" He reaches for another clip, this one just a 9mm.
    "You'd make a good librarian. Or sous chef?" As he says that his lips twitch as he begins to load the pistol.

Quiet has posed:
The revolver is slipped back in to a black leather holster, with the strap that keeps it securely in place snapped via a metal button. Quiet then looks back up at him, and just sits there with her hands in her lap. A quick smile shows across her lips at his summation of shield, and she almost laughs at his suggestion for her profession.

But she shakes her head at the question. She sits up then on her left side, fishing her smart phone out of her pocket. A few moments are spent swiping and tapping before she sets it down on the table and spins it portrait mode style so she can point at the pic n the screen.

It's a light house like you might see on the coastline of some picturesque travel guide.

"Dream. Home." The Speak and Spell says for her after a few taps upon it. "Ghost. with. the. most."
And she flashes a smile then before going back to her work.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    His mood is buoyed up by her smile as his humor finds some small purchase, so he slides the pistol he just loaded to her so she can put it wherever is suitable. But then that allows him to lean over the smart phone and peer, turning the small device a little so he can get a better angle on it.
    "Oh that's kind of nice." His finger lightly moves the picture along to he next and a different angle of the image. "I wonder if there are special things you have to do to take care of a lighthouse. Like... maintenance." But then he eases back into his seat and considers her.
    "Have you saved up for it?"

Quiet has posed:
Quiet's hands are down on the gun that he sends her way now. She's messing with the side of it where it is scuffed a bit, and at his question she just shakes her head from side to side. She then raises her left hand up to prop her chin up on it, elbow on the table. Her fingertips rap against the side of her cheekbone. She frowns.

Clearly she has not the money for such a thing. Her right hand even points down at the gun then, straight down. She taps it like that twice.

That's where all her money goes. In to the guns she uses, and likely the rest of the gear too.

What ARe her motivations then?

She reaches for the red and orange speaker machine.

"Ghosts. Can't. Own. Things." The machine says for her then.

Alexander Aaron has posed:
    "There are ways around that," Alexander says as his brow furrows. Though he doesn't give voice to them, though perhaps loathe to mention his father in front of her for some reason. "I can do some research and see."
    For a time he looks past her, eyes unfocusing until he shakes his head. Then he's rolling on up out of his seat, Alexander nudges her shoulder with a hand as he murmurs, "C'mon, you wanna train a little before you head back?" He gets to his feet fully and pulls up the belly of his-shirt to wipe at his brow before he drops it and shoots another glance her way.
    "Figure you'll need it to work off that donut, you're gettin' slow." Though as he says that his lip curves wryly, knowing that she's... not really getting /that/ slow. Still.
    

Quiet has posed:
Quiet just stares all forelornly then for a moment before she watches him stand up. She does that thing with her expressionate face where she kind of purses her lips, and moves them a little like she wants to speak, but doesn't. At his offer she drops her hands back to her lap, then sits up straight. His jabbing at her speed has her raising her eyebrows at him, then she reaches in to the wagon and pulls out an Asp Baton that she telescopes out with a series of clicks before she swings at his legs, purposefully not hitting him that hard though, just enough to give him a playful scare!

The asp is tossed back in to the wagon then as she goes to his training room to prepare the fight fight!