17555/The Roof of Destiny

The Roof of Destiny
Date of Scene:	01 April 2024
Location:	Roof Tower
Synopsis:	The chicks all bailed, leaving Doug and Julio to was philosophical about plant sex.
Cast of Characters:	Julio Richter, Monet St. Croix, Negasonic, Douglas Ramsey, Talia Wagner

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Julio Richter has posed:
A beat up, studded, leather jacket is hunched over near the edge of a roof, collar pulled up high, wrapped around some Mexican with a beer in one hand and a joint in the other. His phone is at his feet, softly playing Tiempos De Miseria. Trading hands, he's doing his best to get high and gaze out across the world he doesn't own. "Liberta!" he croaks softly as if he where in the crowd with Los Crudos, screaming it, like the world owed him something as he sat in safety atop a mansion.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix is otherwise flying a patrol, when she hears the yell. She goes to head over in that direction, moving to spin around to head towards it. Ah, it's just one of the others at the Mansion that's.. At the very least they could be getting enthusiastic over Football.

Negasonic has posed:
"I don't know if it's trying to be hot, or cold, or whatever," complains Negasonic. She was laying flat on the rooftop, easily the youngest of the crowd up here, but her black-painted, short nails were tapping across the screen.

"But the universe needs to make its mind up."

"Because this shit is getting old," she says. She was laying flat on the rooftop, the material of her jacket billowed about her like the wings of a dark angel.

But she used a pillow, a backpack, because the back of her shorn head against the roof would be kinda uncomfortable. But with her denim-covered legs, she lingers there, texting away.

Douglas Ramsey has posed:
Apparently there's multiple people with the same ideas, because Doug climbs up to the roof, a jacket pulled tight around him, a six-pack of bottles of Labatt Blue Light dangling from one hand. "Aha." He says, "I thought I heard Los Crudos. Be careful about not playing that too loud, you're right over Storm's rooms." Otherwise - he shrugs his shoulders, and finds a place to park it, sitting on his butt before he pulls a swiss army knife out of his pocket, and pops open a beer to take a long draught off it.

He looks up at the sky, and then says to himself, "What the fuck happened, man. You've been to Asgard. Now you're a systems analyst."

Talia Wagner has posed:
Sitting next to Negasonic, but not on her coat, is Talia. She's dressed in red leather pants and a zipped up black hoodie to ward off the chill. She is, of course, not wearing shoes. She has a backpack sitting next to her, and when she shifts a little, glass clinks in it.

Is somebody a bad influence?

"I could do with some warmer weather, yeah," she replies to her (usually) surly pal. "Just ten more degrees and it'd be fine."

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio tapped his phone a couple times, he knew better than to piss off Storm. He was a punk on the outside, a rabbit on the inside. Go to ground rabbit. Tap tap tap. He pitched his joint off the roof with an elegant flick. He slipped his beer between his thighs and leaned back, glancing around as people spoke. "Dont want no trouble, maing." he parodied an obtuse version of his own accent, diminutizing himself before anyone else could, controlling the narrative. "Don't you speak Spanish?" he asked Cypher.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would cross her arms and hover, "I see no particular issues with the weather." Said the woman with invulnerability and thus resistance to non extreme climate conditions. "You should, what is the proper term.. Man up on it?" Glancing at Julio. "And what's his particular paranoia this eve?"

Negasonic has posed:
"Doesn't it like... mess up your makeup or something?" calls Negasonic to Monet, her eyes cutting across towards the other woman. Her lips purse, a bit tightly.

"Probably doesn't even wear makeup," she says to herself, more of a murmur.

And then she rolls her head, lolling her eyes up towards Talia. "Do you wear anything? Like paint on your nails, anything like that?" she asks.

She had *questions* that she wanted answers to. "... huh," she says. "... you guys hear about that space duck or whatever that was around here, too?"

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio Richter wastes his entire pose just to pantomime Monet's elegant diction, turning to Doug and splaying his fingers out to frame his head, "What is his particular paranoia this eve?"

Douglas Ramsey has posed:
Doug takes a pull off his beer again, and then says "Si, Julio. Hablo un poco de espanol. Ya sabes, lo suficiente para sobrevivir." He leans back onto one hand, before he smirks. "That all my life's adventures may have been lived before I even turned 20." He says.

"You know. Blond-haired, blue-eyed white guy problems." He flattens his mouth into a line. "Just sitting at the mansion that's really more of a castle that I can live at for free whenever I want, wondering about my future." He sticks out his tongue.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would just look at Ellie, "I can get by with it. And this weather is rather mild. And if a makeup company cannot make something which can take even the most minimal of exposure, then they do not deserve thier clientelle. That's crass chemical composition incompetence." Giving a glare over to Julio.

Talia Wagner has posed:
"Makeup is hard with my complexion," Talia says with a shrug, blinking her glowing eyes. "I'd have to go really light for contrast and I don't think it'd look good." She holds out one of her three fingered hands. "I only have two fingers and a thumb, don't you think it'd look weird if I painted them?" They are, at least, neatly trimmed and not long at all."

She turns to root around in her bag, pulling a bottle free. Apparently Talia has a taste for mead. Probably because it's sweet and delicious and strong. She undoes the foil at the neck, ready to unscrew the cap, only to discover it's a cork. She considers for a moment before she just lifts it to her face and jams one of her elongated canines into it, wriggling it about and working the cork free with a light pop. She twists it off of her tooth, then takes a big swig before offering it to Ellie. "I won't tell."

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio Richter sat back from his successful irking of Monet and looked to Cypher in earnest. "My sentiments exactly, Mr. Doug." he smiled at Monet, a bright and handsome smile offered by cats who have recently caught mice. "Like a bird in a gilded cage."

Negasonic has posed:
Ellie makes a small sound in the back of her throat at what Monet says, but there was a bit of a smirk at Richter's motions.

She slides up, pulling herself up to a sit as she notes what Talia was doing. That seemed to be enough to draw her attention away from her phone at least.

"I guess it might be," she says. "You look cute as hell anyways," she says, and brings her thumbnail up to rub at her own lip. "My own style isn't exactly... traditional and shit. And I dunno if it would or not. There's only like two of you in the entire universe, so you kinda have to invent your own fashion," she says.

"So if you feel it'd be weird, than it probably would be," she says.

All of this said as Talia uncorks the bottle. "Where'd you get this?" she asks.

She was being all cool, as if she had drunk stuff like this before, but she reaches her hand out to take the bottle, taking a long swig of it. Immeadiately, she gets color in her pale cheeks, and coughs a bit, voice a bit strained as she hands it back. "...that's sweet. Rum?" she asks.

Douglas Ramsey has posed:
"What would be freedom to you, Julio? What do *you* want out of life?" Doug says, arching an eyebrow. He raises his beer to his mouth again. "There's a spaceport filling up with refugees more and more every day - they crossed the literal void of space because they have *nothing* and nowhere to go and conditions..." He gestures, "Up there make this planet their *best shot* at safety. And when Earth and the human race are your best shot -" He exhales.

"Just putting my problems into perspective. And yet, I remain deeply dissatisfied."

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio Richter admits after being somewhat stymied by Doug's Plea to a Space Refugee attack on his right to be miserable. "In the words of the Virgin Mary..." he said, pausing to drink his beer in disbelief, "...come again?" his voice rising incredulously.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
Monet St. Croix would lean back, "There is a mass exodus of refugees from various parts of the galaxy that are coming to Earth out of a promise of safety. The United Nations is in turn threatening them and the facilities used to help protect them."

Douglas Ramsey has posed:
Doug clears his throat. "I'm asking, Julio - what is it you *want* out of life? And I'm asking," He looks over at the others - "Feel free to chime in if any of you have some thoughts, otherwise I'll just keep talking to myself-"

"In the hopes that getting someone else's viewpoint might help me stop being such a-" He takes another pull off his beer bottle, styming another self-deprecating comment. "What M said."

Talia Wagner has posed:
Talia seems to be tuning out the serious vibes coming from Julio, Doug and Monet. She's far more interested in drinking and being called cute. Her cheeks, already a deep blue, lighten into a shade of purple at the compliment. "Thanks," she says quietly. Yeah, she's from an alternate future where her mom is the Scarlet Witch, but she still knows she's not -conventional-. "I do try my own thing. My clothes for going out in public are very complimentary. And who doesn't like leather pants?"

Taking the bottle back, she takes another pull. She doesn't flinch. "It's mead. Honey wine," she replies. "And...I bought it? At a store? Because I can? And I'm contributing to the delinquency of," she says, giving Ellie a once over. "The slightly underaged?"

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio Richter erupts suddenly in laughter. Tears form immediately in his eyes and causing them to close, he opens them to look between Doug and Monet, perhaps to see if they are still there or actually serious. His wrist dips, spilling a dribble of beer on the roof top as his chest heaves in Spanish. "Are you fucking serious right now?" he whined, barely catching his breath. He could not be happier in this moment, despite the obviously horrible state of intergalactic migration, his friends and teammates have utterly turned his mood.

Douglas Ramsey has posed:
"Ok." Doug says, "I'll bite." Another slow draw from his beer. "What's so funny. That ET showed up and we immediately tried to deport him? Puts 'ET GO HOME' in a whole new context..." Then he snorts, and his shoulders begin to shake as he chokes back a laugh. "That's so fucked up!"

Negasonic has posed:
"Don't worry, I'm as old as the rest of you all," says Negasonic.

"I'm twenty seven," she adds, sliding up to a sit as she swoops up her backpack, and flings it onto her shoulders. "Where'd you buy shit like that?" she asks, already heading towards the stairs downwards.

She upnods the group in general.

"Goin' inside," she says. "Need to check on something," she says, heading towards the doorway again. Although she pauses there, glancing back towards Talia. "Yeah," she says, settling on the leather pants comment.

"I like 'em too. Stylish *and* functional," she says.

Negasonic has posed:
Negasonic pauses by the doorway down. "... wanna come with?" she takes a moment, eyes settling on Talia. "Storm's texting me." Another beat, and no matter what the other woman replies, she was on her way through the door and down. Into the inky dark of the ritzy, rent-free, rich manor.

Talia Wagner has posed:
Talia snorts a little at Ellie's deadpan joke. The explosive girl is pretty funny. And she complimented her leather pants. The elf-esque woman starts a little when her pal just gets up, tilting her head slightly. "Oh, that sounds interesting and probably," she pauses with a glance to the other three. "Happier."

She jams the cork back into the bottle, slipping it into her bag before she stands up, not even worried about the heights. With a flippant little wave, she follows Negasonic down inside.

Monet St. Croix has posed:
And as the group seems to split up, Monet goes to glance at Julio, "It puts things in perspective, does it not?" She would muse, an then she is likewise flying off to dart away.

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio Richter boggles, "What is with you guys tonight?" he drained the last of his beer. "Doug, seriously man. I don't need that shit on me." he explained still seeming genuinely amused. "Anyway, you listen to Los Crudos?"

Douglas Ramsey has posed:
"I listen to a lot of things." Doug admits. "It helps when you can understand the words. By the way, Sam Guthrie's little brother Jay may be the best vocalist I've ever heard. The kid could be an enormous star. I've got a project for you. Convince him to record a demo tape - then start selling it in Mutant Town."

He looks up at the sky. "You didn't answer my question, by the way."

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio Richter looked at Doug for a long moment, then dimmed his eyes in the even dimmer light. "What do I want in life?" he considered, "Go back in time, shoot Baby Hitler, steel his moustache, bring it back to the present and stick it on Belle Delphine's pussy." he grabbed the last beer from the carton and popped it open, then drank saluted Doug.

Douglas Ramsey has posed:
Doug's eyes go half-lidded at that notion. "You know I've traveled through time. I don't think Hitler had a moustache as an infant, though." But the statement makes him laugh. "I'm serious! What I want?" He takes another pull. "Love, maybe - though at my age, with the chaos I've lived through in the past? I don't want to tether anybody down. I could die, or become a cosmic being, or some absolutely bonkers bullshit. Companionship. Friendship, for certain. Life's experiences are best shared. And *Adventure*. I want *endless fucking adventure*. No dust on me..."

"I know all the words. So what the fuck is holding me back? But, no. I'm serious. It's a *serious* question." He punctuates that with a gesture of his beer bottle, for emphasis.

Julio Richter has posed:
Julio Richter explained to Doug, "Love isn't real." and swigged his beer. "Its like a misattribution of biochemistry. You just basically said you want photosynthesis to make your life complete."

Douglas Ramsey has posed:
Doug cracks up laughing at that. "That's so bleakly cynical. You know, the guy who wrote Conan the Barbarian? You wouldn't call him a poet or a philosopher, but he had a line in one of his stories-" He drains the last of his beer and clinks the bottle. "Where Conan says, to wit, that if life is an illusion, than you are no less an illusion - ergo the illusion is real enough. So I suppose, if love is an illusion-" He pops the cap on another of his beers, "...Then good enough? Though maybe the answer is that I'm just a dandelion. I kind of look like one if I don't get my hair cut."