11561/=Buster and Hex meet for the third time.

=Buster and Hex meet for the third time.
Date of Scene:	11 June 2022
Location:	The Centinel Hotel - Mutant Town
Synopsis:	Hex teaches Buster to be less swirly whirly.
Cast of Characters:	Cheyenne Brawley, Valerie Killmore

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Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     Room 22, on the 2nd floor. Buster's lucky number. The apartment has been recently cleaned, and a few minor repairs made, furniture brought in. The decor is a mix of 1970s and contemporary souless corporate shiek. The sole occupant of the room paces, or limps, rather, back and forth across the living room as his television blasts the news. The door stands wide open, letting in AC from the hallway.

Valerie Killmore has posed:
It's been a couple days, but Hex made an impression since the person down in the lobby who manages the place recognized and remembered her. At least, after she started shouting, and waving a gun around, and pointing it in his direction. She's lucky she's in Mutant Town and calling the 'cops' might get them both arrested, or worse, disappeared, and since no one got hurt they just let Hex go. With information, on where she could meet the Texan, Buster, Cheyenne something.

Room 22, convenient that the door is open, at least, for the door. She brought a door busting clatter bomb with her, attached to her hip by a balled up hot pink yarn that seems to 'adhere' the clatter bomb to her pants. The news, the tv, it's on, and Buster is limping, but she's wrinkling her nose at the tv. "This is GARBAGE." She states, as she's immediately investigating the tv, finding a way to get it to a music channel ASAP, and something hard, lots of beats and metal guitars.

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     "Hi Hexie-Blue," Buster mutters with a grunt. Picking up on her vibes, and the subtext of her pronouncement, he snags the gadget on the way by, off the coffee table, and flips the television to a heavy metal station. "War Eternal" by Cirith Ungol plays. A cursory glance would show scabs all over his hands, forearms and face, which are scabbed over. "How's my favorite bluenette today?"

Valerie Killmore has posed:
"Doin' fine." Hex says as she stands up and turns around, looking over Buster she just hops up on the tv stand. "I was coming over to say Hi, and figure out where you live, in case I ever needed to stalk you." She comments nonchalantly, but also in a serious voice, her eyes looking around the place and she sniffs the air a bit, wriggling her nose some, "Clean. It's too clean. You know, I know I know, you've only been here a day or so, but you couldn't of broken a window on the floor or shattered some bottles about? I should've brought some paint." She thinks, the injuries and scabs all over don't seem to hit her radar. At least, not enough for her to ask about them. It's how clean the place is, that's a problem.

Valerie Killmore has posed:
Valerie Killmore adds, she's also starting to bob her head to the music, and grinning lightly as she rocks her head about side to side, tilting left to right, making her hair bounce about to the tunes.

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     "Maybe you can swing by and help me make a mess sometime," he responds from the kitchen. He returns with a bottle of Shiner Bock and tosses it suddenly in her general direction, assuming she would enjoy watching it shatter as much as drinking it. "You know how hard it is to find a decent brew in this city?"
     "I'm Your Man", by Motorhead plays next, and he bobs his head here and there along with the beat.

Valerie Killmore has posed:
It's difficult. To say the least. Something tossed in her direction gets both the instinct to catch it and the lack of concern of getting hit. Since it doesn't look like it'll hit her, her arm decides it's time to catch it, no choice, just, quick sudden motion, blurringly fast. When she has it she looks at it and squints a bit, "What's this? Is this alcohol?" She is opening it, however that happens, and sniffing at it, and then recapping it.

"Is it good? I dunno about alcohols, the last time I drank anything I was 4... and whooooa, the neighborhood dogs ... they should've stayed inside." She chuckles and sways on the tv stand, full body chuckle, as she listens, "You are ... wait, you are controlling the TV! You know how to use a gadget!!! That's exciting, is that what those scabs are? Tech chips installed into your skin to impart knowledge of modern technology?! So exciting!" Her eyes light up at the prospects of artificial skills.

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     Naive as ever, Buster grins. "Who gives booze to a four-year-old?" Pointing at the beer, he adds, "Try it. If you don't like it, I'll drink the rest." Then he limps to the couch and slumps down, looking at his hands as if he had half forgotten what he looked like. "Oh, some gal was in a horn-tossin' mood at the bank. She tried to rob the joint, and I stopped her. Nearly killed me, to boot." His tone is quiet and cold, a shadow of his usual friendly demeanor. He looks Hex square in the pinks of her eyes and scowls, absent-mindely rubbing his face in a fit of angry thoughts; he almost lets it pass, but says: "Wanna kill her for me?" The Texan's face is as solemn as a heart attack, but he forces a grin, an obvious afterthough, a huffs a chuckle.

Valerie Killmore has posed:
Grabbing the brew, Hex looks at it, and then tilts it back. She's drinking. It isn't usually her thing, but whatever, it's here, and she's been suggested to 'try it'. So, gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp, and she tilts it back with very little left as she hears the story.

Her eyes perk up and she zips over, she's right next to Buster, with the beer, smiling big, nodding her head, "Yes. Who was it?" She questions, looking at Buster straight in his eyes with her pink ones, staring, like she could read the name there past the gloss. "I could tie her up, put some bombs on her, or launch her into outerspace! With bombs attached to her, shoot her with my pew pews and then bomchakalaka the corpse!" She chuckles, which turns into a bit of a laugh, then a slightly haunted stuttered snicker as her eyes lose a little focus, imagining all the ways she could blow someone up.

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     "That'd be a fitting end for that filly; she nearly killed me with a bomb. Or two or three, actually. I guess that's her thing - she just kept pulling them out of thin air, like." Buster makes a gesture of pulling something the size of a basketball from behind his back. "She tossed a little'un at me, and I blocked it with a shield. But the second was big enough to demo a tank. I jumped behind the teller's desk, and next thing I knew I was waking up in a pile of smithereens. I got her though. Could'a killed her, but I didn't." He strokes the point of his beard. "Only, after some time to think on it, I realized I left an enemy alive." He dismisses his thoughts with the wave of a hand. "Anyway, the whole time, I was thinkin': I know a gal with bombs a hunerd times better." He winks at Hex. "As for who she was, well, I don't rightly know her name. She had a black swoop-a-doop of a hairdo," he gestures a one-sided bob, "and kind of a European accent. Dressed like a middle manager at Dillards. Ring any bells?"

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     "Melissa" by Mercyful Fate plays on the television.

Valerie Killmore has posed:
"Filly... filly... She's a horse woman?" Hex seems confused, and then she is nodding, "Oooooh, she uses bombs. That's always a great thing. I love bombs!" Excited, even when there's something dangerous being presented to her. And she hmmms, she nods nods, "Straight form the sky? Like, launched from satellites? Or you mean from 'nowhere'. Like magic? Or advanced physics, maybe she has little tiny mice bring them to her very quickly?"

Waiting, the story dragging on about people getting injured, and then its back to bombs! She is grinning, and nodding, "Yeah you do. Well, maybe not a hundred times better, but I do HAVE bombs, black swoop a doop of a hairdo. Huh. I can't say I know her, not that I would very easily recognize anyone, but..." She pulls her clatter bomb straight from her waist and holds it up, tapping on its head. This thing looks like you took a steampunk version of clattering teeth from a dentist office and stuck a grenade inside the hollow bits, so it 'chews' around it, and then attached some hot pink yarn to it, "Meet Fredericka..." A pause, "Oh, the second. Right." She holds it up to her own cheek, and squeezes it there like one might a kitten, "She's wonderful, and I'm sure she'll work. 85 percent confidence."

And then she pats the head of Fredericka II and then re-sticks it to her waist, hip side, with nothing more than the balled up yarn being 'squished' a little like you might another kind of adhesive.

"I won't rest until I find her. I probably wouldn't of rested anyhow, I tend to want to sleep, but then don't, there's ... there's always something, going on. That needs to be built." She says, one of her hands idly grabbing at some of her hair, and pulling on it, just off to the side, gripping it, like an odd tic, entwining the longer strands, and getting them all tangled up with her fingers.

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     "I've barely scratched the surface when it comes to strange things in this city, but it certainly looked like magic to me. Like she could pull a bomb from another dimension and drop it in your hip pocket, like Bugs Bunny or somethin'." Buster remembers he has a beer of his own on the coffee table, takes a swallow, and sets it back down. "Call it trade? Take out this bomber-woman for me, and I'll owe you one. You know, an act of service, like you said."

Valerie Killmore has posed:
"Oooh ooooOOoOoHhoooOoohoo." Hex says in response to the whole, pluck a bomb out of no where and putting it in a pocket. Her eyes get wider and she grins big, placing her hands on her knees and bending forward as she tilts her head, in interest, and then there's an odd look, a moment of confusion, "That's not how relationships work. I do things for you. You don't have to do anything for me." She furrows her brow, "I just. I do this for you, I enjoy it, you enjoy it, I did it for you, and me, and that's enough. I'm not sure what I'd ever ask for anyhow. But no, that doesn't work like that, you are amazing. I'm just me. So, I'm doing what I can to keep up. You know? It's like, evening the tides." A few nods of her head, and she just waves it off like you just don't know about relationships.

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     "Who told you that, gal?" Buster attempts to snake an arm around Hex's shoulders. "What if I told you that I would enjoy doing something for you, too?" He deflates slightly. "If only I could figure out what in tarnation that would be. I'm sure you'll think of somethin'." He perks up slightly, "Oh, you know what else I say the other day? A feller that could throw webs out out of hands like a spider, except he also had teeth as long as your hand, and a tongue as long as your leg." The Texan is lost in thought for a moment, as if realizing something for the first time. "I think he might'a eaten a few... people."

Valerie Killmore has posed:
"Told me?!" Scoffs Hex and she shakes head, "No one TOLD me that. I'm my OWN person!" Hex screams a little, and glares, right at Buster. Then she lightens, and shakes her head, "I pretty much don't 'need' anything. I'm already me, broken, crazy, weird, skinny, dangerous, but ... I'm not sure what you can do for me." She thinks, and thinks, and thinks, and her eyelids tremble some, and then she ohs! Exclaiming loudly, "I know that guy. I ran into him once, and I hate him. Wait wait wait, he has teeth? I didn't see teeth, if I had teeth ..." She tips over and stretches her hands from thigh to foot, "This long, I'd eat someone too!"

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     "Oh, you know what else? I went down to a bookstore in Manhattan and met the real life actualy Wonder Man. He even gave me these," Buster produces a pair of aviator sunglasses with a small brand logo on the earpiece hinges. He slips them on his scratched and scabbed face. "What do you think?"

Valerie Killmore has posed:
Tilting her head to the left, she keeps tipping, and tipping and tipping. Hex then is basically sideways, looking over at you, and then offers, "I think that I certainly need to figure out how to pull bombs from no where. That'd be super useful, could you imagine, butterflies everywhere, instantly!" She offers, "I am also thinking that I'm missing something. There's something going on, and I'm not sure what it is, you are asking me questions or saying things. Am I supposed to be upset? Am, I supposed to give feedback on something, I'm not sure, it's really coming into my head and then just FWOOOOOSH!" Pause, pause, pause, "What do you think?"

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     "I think," Buster drags the shades onto his nose and peers at Hex over the rim, "that you're the perties gal I ever did see." He pops the shades off, folds them and slides them onto the coffee table, retrieving his bottle in the same motion to take another swig. "But alas, I don't know my ass from my elbow when it comes to bombs." He scowls. "If I did, maybe that other bomber wouldna whooped me to Marfa and back by Sundee." He grins. "Maybe we can spar sometime, so I can pick up some new tricks. You can try to blow me up." He winks.

Valerie Killmore has posed:
"No, I'm not... no wait ... I am." Hex takes in a deep breath, and smiles, and then offers, "You do so much for me already! See. The beer.. even though it wasn't good, and the gem, even though it's too perfect, there was the lens, it only needed a little doctoring. That's ..." She counts, on her fingers, "Far too many gifts, already. And I've done... what, nothing? For you. That seems... one sided. Already. And even if I do this ooooonne thing for you, I'm still in debt." A pause, "Spar? Like, fight, without trying to kill one another?"

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     Buster nods. "Or at least, maybe you can show me some tricks, so next time I'm pitted against somebody that wants to me go kablooey, I'll know what to do." He chuckles. "Hexie-Kablue-ee."

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     He adds, "And by the way, I'm not keepin' score. I just might find a reason to give you another gift, if you don't watch it."

Valerie Killmore has posed:
"Um, okay, but if we do that, you won't make it to the next time to apply said information." Hex offers in a very analytical sort of tone, but then shrugs, "Your life. Your hands, do you want to do so now? I have a clatter bomb, pretty easy to trigger. Just BOOM, and fire everywhere." She's already grabbing at it at her hip, and then she pauses, "You ... aren't ... keeping score? Oh, then, I guess, I'll do that for the both of us." She smiles, and reaches up to tap her temple a few times, "I am good with numbers, and remember almost everything."

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     Buster does some impromptu tai chi and the diamonds on his belt buckle, which is slung on a peg near the door, animate and take on a life of their own, wriggling out of their bezels like shaken jello. They leap into the air and fracture into a fine, glittering dust, which swirls through the air like smoke from a genie's lamp. In hardly any time at all, they begin to form a spherical orb around Fredericka II which, if allowed to complete, would prevent Hex from laying hold of her ordinance.

Valerie Killmore has posed:
The impromptu tai chi is quick enough because Hex wasn't really using her excessive speed, and she goes to grab Fredericka II and nothing. No purchase, no grip, nada on getting ahold of it. She looks down and goes, "Huh." And then quirks her mouth back and forth, "Nice, trick. If we were in a fight, though... your setup really is pretty ... telegraphy. And I wouldn't have only one bomb on me." She chuckles a bit, and reaches out to pat Buster on the shoulder, "Mister, what I'm tryin' to say, Buster Buster, you gotta be quick, and less... swirly whirly."

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     "Less swirly whirly, huh? OK..." While Hex pats him on the shoulder, he endeavors to smooch the back of her hand, then sets about quickly dissolving the orb and returing his carbon back to its status quo. "OK. 1, 2, 3..." He repeats the same maneuver as before, this time leaning casually to one side, elbow propped on the arm of the sofa, though his eyes are darting about rapidly. He manages to recreate the orb, but it takes him about 50% longer.

Valerie Killmore has posed:
"Whoa whoa whoa." Hex says as she watches Buster do his thing the second time. And she grimaces, shaking her head, "No. Stop. You got these crazy eyes..." And she darts hers back and forth, all crazy like, and then adds, "Plus you counted. Why would you count? I mean, sometimes I do it, but I've got fuses, yarn, and other things to keep track of." She paces, shaking her head, then offers with a snap of her fingers and pointing, "Do it without counting, without swirly mcdirlies, AND no eye whack a mole. Then, mayyyyyyyybe, if your lucky, you could survive a single bomb. Maybe."

Cheyenne Brawley has posed:
     Buster sighs. He definitely has some work to do.