5829/Flat Broke In Flatbush

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Flat Broke In Flatbush
Date of Scene: 02 April 2021
Location: Brooklyn
Synopsis: A punk and a goth walk into a barbell piercing. LMAO but seriously. That is exactly what happens, except by 'walk' we mean 'commit a felony'. Is it MURDER, TREASON, BURGLARY, or VANDALISM? Read on to find out. page Roxy or Ellie if you want to send us congratulations on being awesome.
Cast of Characters: Roxanne Spaulding, Negasonic




Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
BROOKLYN - FLATBUSH AVENUE, FIB TATTOO BAR
15:52
OVERCAST

It's a tattoo parlor AND a bar, AND it's right next to a burger shop. And you're like, 'shyeah, but Roxy, you can't really DO burgers right now' and Roxy'd normally agree with you - she's been eating like crap lately - but it's been a tough day! A tough week. Gawd. It's been a tough few months, lately. Leave her alone, let her be miserable for a minute. It's more fun to think about tattoos.

THE OUTFIT: Black beret, aviator sunglasses, black choker collar. Spunky leather half-jacket, grunge-chic ratty white tanktop underneath. Distressed, skintight blue jeans and calf-high stompers, black. Also a milkshake from said burger shop.

THE SCENE: Yeah okay she's mostly sitting on top of a newspaper box slurping that milkshake, one-handed 'cuz her other hand is occupado with a TracFone.

She is looking up 'dope tattoos what to get'.

Negasonic has posed:
Brooklyn really isn't Negasonic's scene, but buses don't run into Bushwick, so she she's got to take the ass and elbow express from the metro just down the street. She has her black hood up, beneath her black leather coat, over her black shirt and pants, and black boots... She has a lot of black. Including makeup. No hair though. Hair, like mercy, is for the weak.

Nor is she sporting a TracFone.

Hardware is important to a Twitter gunfighter. A person is measured by their data, upload speed, and general accessibility, which is why Ellie is sporting a brand new, Jail Broke, Galaxy S21+. The glow of the screen lighting her face as she peers down upon it on her journey through Brooklyn to Bushwick.

Which just so happens to take her past Roxanne, at a burger joint, next door to a tattoo bar.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
There's a sort of magic in the way people respond to ill omens; it tells you a lot about their general excitability or gullibility or something. The point is that Ellie's a little like a black cat in her demeanor, appearance, irritability, aura, and gen- maybe Ellie is a LOT like a black cat, actually. You can't really blame Roxanne for looking up when this jacked-in gothling crosses her path, can you?

Can you blame her for jumping up like she does? Knees come to chest before she's practically springing to her feet on top of the newspaper stand and dragging those shades *low* to give Ellie a full-on peep from those pretty purples.

"Holy -crap-, uh. You came outta nowhere! I'd normally see, like, the -Elvira Jr.- thing a mile away." She didn't, though.

Roxanne just sucks at paying attention.

Negasonic has posed:
Even in the face of surprise, Ellie is unphased. She barely even glances up from her phone at the sound of Roxanne clattering atop her newspaper recepticle... Barely, but she does glance. Raising a brow at the punky dressed lady with her red hair and purple eyes. Stopped in her progression, she just kind of stares for a few seconds. Not out of surprise, she's not surprised, this is New York, but...

Who even knows.

"Elvira Jr. That's clever. Did you come up with that all by yourself?" Phone still hovering, at least she's paying some attention to the other teen. Lowering the device to her side with an expression on her face that screams that she's got a million other things she could, and would rather, be doing right now.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Oho, Elvira Jr.'s one of those cool collected types. A dark eyebrow spikes into that fluorescent hairline - Roxanne's lips purse into an inquisitive little "o" around the straw of her milkshake. She takes a hot second to slurp at the thing like an absolute neanderthal. It takes -a few seconds-.

Finally...

"...No? I mean, it's not even that good? Elvira's got, uh." Roxanne attempts to pantomime something that nobody needs to discuss, but it's a half-hearted attempt. "Never mind. I'm way distracted anyway. You look like you got tattoos, though. Any tips?" Roxy's back on her ass in a moment, legs crossed, a hand behind her ass to support her backwards lean.

Slurp.

"'Cuz I'm getting a tattoo. Something badass."

Negasonic has posed:
A line appears along the bottom of Ellie's mouth when she pushes her tongue against the back of her teeth, puffing her cheeks just so, at Roxanne's oddities. Which aren't really that odd by most standards, if she's completely honest. The second base of weird. Rounding third, maybe. It's hard to make a sports reference play.

The phone comes back up slowly the longer Roxy takes to respond, pausing when the words finally break the silence. "Old? Busty? Kind of lame?" Elvira. Her mouth quirks, brow raised, and watching the woman canter on about tattoos.

"I don't have any tattoos. Piercing, but no tattoos. I can give you advice though." The phone once more goes back to her side with her hood shifting side to side to look over her shoulders conspiratorially,

"Get a Chuthulu tramp stamp."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Takes her a second to remember who the hell Cthulhu is, but she does, and recognition dawns on that animated lil' face. This timing allows Ellie to fire off whatever balderdash tweets she needs to - it's tough being the queen of the Internet, Roxy can imagine. In any case, when we're back to the present, we're back to Roxanne and her newfound half-interest.

"-Bleugh-. Tentacle face is so, like, doomy-hipster-chic. I don't even read those books! I couldn't cash the checks my ass would be writing. What if I met a boy who wanted to, like, -get gnarly- and -talk about the apocalypse-? Barf." She crosses her legs, indicates Negasonic with a nod.

"Could totes work for -you-, though. Me, I'm thinking like... maybe a heart? That'd be cute. Like with a little bandaid on it." It's not cute, Roxy. You're being way lame.

Negasonic has posed:
First thing's first, Ellie doesn't grin. It's difficult for her not to in this particular situation, but she doesn't. She gets that strained expression one gets when they're not smiling even though they kind of want to smile, but she succeeds and that's important. Nor would the expression of been with good natured intent, it would have been purely at Roxy's expense, so...

Take it as you will.

The phone comes up while Roxy is busy thinking, shooting off something scathing and dream destroying, only to release the device back down to her side like a gunslinger ready for the quick draw.

"Nobody has read those books... They're fucking stupid... and not even remotely scary. What does a hundred year old white guy know about fear in a modern world full of super powered dumb asses?" One brow, way up, gently curved, "Spoiler: No a mother fucking thing."

As for hearts with bandaids, "You could get it wrapped in barbed wire." She does not mean that. At all. Sarcasm level is very high.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Roxanne has expended her knowledge on authors and books, and it shows. She's generally treading water when it comes to academic culture - she knows exactly enough to rattle off one-liners. Past that it's all anime and the Billboard Top 100 from 1990-2005. So when Ellie expounds on the philosophy of one creepy white dude's vision of insanity versus the superpowered modern day, she gets:

"Ha-ha-- wait. He's a -hundred-? That's so old, oh em gee." Two brows way up. Less curved. "A hundred year old dude probably knows -something- about the apocalypse, though. Maybe he's right??" She lets the thought trail off when Ellie mentions barbed wire AND a bandage AND a heart. Gets the TracFone out and types this straight into Google, tongue poking from between her lips, phone poised atop one upraised knee.

"Maybe I should just get a bellybutton ring instead? It's sorta smaller and doesn't make so many statments about, like, my thoughts on insanity and all-black outfits." Roxy puts her phone down again, seems to realize exactly now who she's talking to.

"I mean. You know. They work for you! Just not -me-." I've got good taste, she seems to say.

Negasonic has posed:
"Older." Ellie nods a few times, still watching Roxy while squinting periodically as if she's unsure this girl isn't out of her whole ass mind. Jury is honestly out. Her expression remains pretty neutral though! She's good for that, if nothing else. With the corner of her mouth tucking between the front of her teeth, she lazily looks down at her phone screen angled up at her, then back to Roxanne.

"Captain America is old as fuck too. I don't know how much he knows about the apocalypse... Fucking Socrates has a whole study plan on how there's certain types of people who are predisposed to being slaves based on their personalities, or some shit... I generally believe that the older a white dude gets, the more self entitled nonsense is bound to come out of their mouth."

Except Cap. "Cap is cool though."

That's rare.

Just not for -me-. Negasonic inclines her head, "Yeah, I'm sure you'll turn the whole image around. Get some dangly jewelry in your belly button, it absolutely will not scream I fuck on the first date."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"Socrates...?" God. Roxy's out of her depth already. She's been to exactly zero history classes - all she's got is that Washington threw a cherry tree over the Virgina river. If that's even its name. She forgets. In any case, phone time is over; Roxanne makes this clear by tucking hers into a jacket pocket and bringing those knees up to her chest, wrapping arms around.

"Captain America isn't old! He's like... young? Dreamy. Beefy. Beefdream. You could build a -church- on those shoulders." Slow nods means she's 100% correct, see. Roxanne hops off of her newspaper kiosk-thing seat and walks up to the tattoo parlor's window. It's closed, but it's got a pricing list at the window.

"See? Tattoos are crazy expensive, but a piercing's cheap A.F." Fuck on the first date? It draws Roxanne's attention back over her shoulder - she winks to Ellie, flashy, practiced, blustery. Hey girl. She's got this.

"That's what boys like though, right? I mean I'm not GONNA. Probably. Maybe." She won't. Her writers have made very sure of that. It's a whole -thing-.

Negasonic has posed:
"Yeah, Greek philosopher." Ellie explains in a bored tone, akin to a nerd explaining inter Federation relations to an uninformed jock. She does not pocket her phone, but it is remanded to hanging down from her hand rather than right up in her face. Her other hand is in the pocket of her jacket, hood cutting side to side curiously.

"You realize he was f- nevermind.' brow wrinkles, furrow, super not worth explaining. "Yeah. If you're into that sort of thing-" Dreamy, beefy, beefdream. Etc. So on. So forth. She too glances in the window.

"Get something you can hide when it doesn't suit you. Like most people do their children. Or herpes."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
There goes her upper lip. Greek philosopher? -Gag-. What's substantially more interesting is Ellie's allusion to not being 200% about Captain America's absolutely insane bod. 'If you're into that sort of thing' prompts the punkette to glance Ellie's direction with a raised eyebrow - first in the reflection of the window she's peering through, and then over her shoulder.

Hey. Wait a minute.

"Oh, uh. Uhm. -I- get you." Ellie, clever as hell, is moving forward before Roxy can even finish her thought. This is good; she's about to say some wildly stupid shit. She's got one of those smiles that practically promises incoming disaster - this fizzles into a more startled concern when Ellie's MOVING, but then she's like, coming to sit next to Roxy and-- oh.

Yeah.

"You gonna get something, too? I mean, I don't even know you, but like it totally fits your vibe. Do the Coolio tramp stamp. I'll get a bellybutton ring. It'll be so -fly- it's -sick-." A beat.

"Roxy, by the way."

Negasonic has posed:
Ellie isn't sure what revelation has this way come for Roxy, at least not at first. She feels pretty sure she wears her lesbianism pretty obviously on her sleeve. Suffice that she doesn't actually have it written anywhere and rainbow apparrel doesn't really mesh with her vibe. So when Roxy explains that she gets it, Ellie just inclines her head with a plastic good for you, kid smile and settles onto the bench beside the weird self reflective one.

"No tattooes, I'm good. Maybe another piercing." Shoulders bounce, dismissive, totally uninterested, shrug. The hood she's wearing is brushed off her shaved head, palm running across the stubble of dark hair with quiet scraping against her fingerless glove.

"Negasonic Teenage Warhead." By way of introduction.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Roxy's standing up! She's looking in the shop now, through the window. Ellie's spot on the bench allows for yet more window-reflection eye-contact, and that might just be enough to let the girl spy Roxanne's immediate reaction to -the name-. It's complicated. There's a twist of those juicy little lips and a swift stormcloud of a pout that darkens her ebullience. It's a note that doesn't quite hit right, clearly.

"...Right. So I'm gonna call you Sinead, yeah?" Her eyebrows spike in that window's reflection, a clear 'heh, yeah? yeah??' antagonism - she's aiming for a rise.

"Anyway, I'm super-duper broke so we're gonna have to get in here somehow. Guessing your name means you're like... some kind of super, right? I'm no lockpicker but if there's an open window I can probably get into it. They gotta have a piercing gun in there, and we can just grab a ring and get out. It'll be -metal-."

Negasonic has posed:
That's basically the only reason to name yourself after a band that almost nobody has even heard of. Ellie nods, lips pulled tight by dent of her puffing her cheeks, right up until Roxy says she's going to be calling her Sinead and has the audacity to think she's being original! Her nose wrinkles, her eyes narrow. Her head shakes. "Please. No. Not. That..." Inflection upon each word so that the sarcasm couldn't be missed, even when viewed from a window and spoken to the back of Roxy's head.

She takes a deep breath and pushes off the bench. Reaching up, she pulls her hood up over her bald head and stares in through the window with both hands cupping the side of her face. "Sure." Breaking in. Totally in her wheelhouse.

"Alternatively you could just throw a rock through the window?"

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"Rocks are pretty Bruce Willis? I'm going for more of a Pierce Brosnan. Not so much Daniel Craig, though." Roxanne's talking while Negasonic peeps the joint, but that's not what's important. What IS important is the way the store's windows all buck *UPWARDS* as though given a really good push. Most don't move, but a window in the manager's office opens with a *CRACK*. It's about ten feet away.

"So Sinead's dumb; totally agree. Megadeth Atomic Warheads just sounds like you're a sellout, though? Besides, what if we're going all incogento? This is your last chance, chica!" Roxy's grinning while she makes her way over to that newly opened window.

"I'm going for the bellybutton. What piercing are you gonna get? Is it a weird one? 'Cuz I'm the one putting a hole in you."

Negasonic has posed:
"I have to know, you're aware that you're lame right?" Ellie asks with a side glance at Roxy, "Everything you just said... super lame. Like a lot. It's mind blowing, honestly." Hands out, shaking her head, but then a window is open.

And Roxy is still sorting out the whole name thing. "No, Negasonic is fine... Nega.. but do not call me Megadeth. I have standards and that's crossing a line." She /does/ know who they are though, which is a step in the right direction. That direction, in this case, being towards the alley where Roxy had gone to engage with the window she'd opened.

Surprisingly cool with a little casual b&e and whatever tf she did to get the window open, she only glances over her shoulder once. "Everything weird is already pierced." She's got a lot of piercings. "I'm pretty sure the only thing that ISN'T, is my belly button.."

Ten feet up. "I hope you can jump."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"Wait. You can't, like, fly?" Roxanne is standing beneath the window by now, casual glances towards the sidewalk indicating that she is well aware of the illegality of what she's up to. But it's fine, because the fact that people even have to PAY for piercings is super stupid in the first place. She could do it with a safety pin! So dumb.

Anyway, she sounds bummed about Negasonic's statement.

"I thought you were a superhero villain? You've got a wild name. Teenage warheads should be able to fly." She points to the window above, looks to Negasonic as the bald kid rounds the corner. There is a brief, searching stare when the other girl mentions her bevy of piercings.

"Even, like--" She doesn't bother finishing the sentence. Eyes widen.

"Alright, so can you fly or not?"

Negasonic has posed:
"Can -you- fly?" Ellie asks matter of factly, frowning as if she's supremely aghast at the notion she's being down dressed for inability to fly, "I can blow shit up.." She can also jump really high. It just takes her a second to make that happen, smoke rising off her shoulders as she begins to channel heat all across her body like some kind of super conductor.

Then she leaps, grabs the window, and levers herself inside like a parkor boss.

Dropping on the otherside with booted feet clap. "Yes, even like --" She doesnt' bother finishing it either. All the things. They're pierced.

As a pro at larceny, she's looking for cameras, little blinky red lights that indicate that they'll soon be fucked.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Roxy doesn't answer Ellie's question - she's pretty caught up in smiling at passerby as they... pass by. Bright eyes and a little grin do quite a bit to assuade bystanders of her relative Teenaged Innocence, and then Negasonic's making like a furious jumping bean. Roxy's attention follows the goth, her lips part into a wondering lil "o", and then -- and then Negasonic's -inside-.

~~ INSIDE ~~

Dude. It's a tattoo parlor manager's office. There aren't any cameras, these places run on such thin margins. Who'd ever break in? So dumb. The manager's office is like, a table and a chair and a laptop that isn't even there right now. It's so crazy insecure.

~~ OUTSIDE ~~

Oh shit Roxy's gone.

~~ INSIDE ~~

Roxy climbs through the window.

"OK. So we gotta like check out the main studio. That's where the gun's gonna be. And then we can do each other up. It'll be badass."

Negasonic has posed:
"You mentioned. Metal." Ellie says in her usual dismissive tone. Even breaking and entering can't excite her, truly she is a child who has no inflection or personality. Buried beneath black makeup and clothing. A cautionary tale.

With her hood up, she's headed for the parlor, peeking in and around before heading directly for the piercing station as if she's been around them enough to know exactly where to go about looking for a gun. How differently can these places be, honestly? If you've seen one tattoo parlor, you've seen them all.

"So were you just waiting around outside for an accomplice to show up in your burglary of a piercing gun?" She stands up straight and looks across the side of her hood at Roxy, "You're a cop aren't you? I should have known it, you totally look like a cop."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Roxanne's removed her shades by now; she glances upwards, a lil' 'oh shit yeah I DID say that' in her face. A shrug of slender shoulders indicates where she's gone to, caring-wise - she's following Negasonic out of the manager's office and looking around the studio itself. Unlike her colleague, she's pretty jazzed on everything. She doesn't spend MUCH time in these places.

She's broke, see?

"Oh shit! I found a bunch of cool piercings. And like, those black exam gloves they use? So we can be all legit about it." Roxanne has in fact found a box of black exam gloves tucked away in one of the 'booths' these tattoo artists use. She's busy putting them on while Negasonic continues looking for that piercing gun.

"I was looking up jobs TBH." Ugh, who says TBH? "And that got me thinking about tattoos, 'cuz they're cool, but you totally made me think a piercing would WAY up my bikini game. And you looked like you were down with whatever? So here we are. Total serendipity thing. Are YOU a cop? Oh my god, you're Captain America's sister, that's how you know so much about him. Are the cops coming RIGHT NOW?" Roxanne looks up from her hands, where she is finishing applying those gloves.

*SNAP* goes the nitrile non-latex fabric.

Negasonic has posed:
Ellie is shaking her head before Roxy has even really gotten into the meat of her explanation, "I really wish I hadn't asked. That I hadn't asked or that you realized I didn't really want to know..." Kneeling down digging in one of the cabinets, she comes up with a piercing gun held up over her head. "Bingo." Who says bingo? The difference being, Ellie doesn't sound like she cares that she sounds lame saying it.

Which means it's not lame.

Confidence is everything.

Tucking it away beneath her coat she stops at a display of piercings and quirks her lips to the side. Emptying the whole thing into a bag which she tucks into the back pocket of her black jeans, "You'd look fine in a bikini." She says this off handedly.

A compliment of a sort.

Which somehow still comes out as an insult. Like she's saying, you're stupid for thinking otherwise.

"A cop. That's funny. You done playing with the gloves?"

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Roxanne is immediately intensely agreeing with Ellie's assessment of her bikini situation. It's good, because it distracts her from her concern over the other teen's appropriation of an entire rack of piercings - god damn, Ellie! Satisfaction filters into a more flat-faced concern when everything catches up to Roxy, and she fixes wide-eyes on the gothling.

"Oh -shit-, you're so klepto right now. C'mere and sit in this chair or whatever, we're gonna make this happen. We aren't stealing the gun! That's nuts. We'll just use it and put it back or whatever." Roxanne, gloved up, slaps the chair in front of her.

"Sit! Tummy out! It'll probably suck and be kinda bloody but we'll use napkins and stuff. I watched like three YouTubes on this, it's super easy."

Negasonic has posed:
"You're telling me we broke in here just to use their gun and walk away with nothing to show for it but a piercing?" Of which she already has more than she has fingers and toes? Ellie sighs and shrugs, then makes her way over to lounge out on the chair. Pushing her shirt up with the curve of her forearm to show off her flat stomach and tiny little belly button.

Genoshians have notoriously small belly buttons.

That's not true.

"I'm not a kelpto, what the fuck. Stop being weird, you're acting like a narc." Big frown. Cardinal rule: never insult the person who's about to give you a piercing. They, like nurses, can make your life painful.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"You just cat burgled an entire piercing display! That's totally klepto!" Roxy's grabbing at the gun Ellie 'appropriated', plugs it in, and fiddles with it for a while. She has... no idea how this thing works. She looks up the procedure and -- wide-eyes. A laugh, and she's tossing the gun over a shoulder. Totally garbage! She looks around for a minute - toddles off to the back really - and comes back with a pair of packages labeled "BB PIERCING KITS".

"Haha, so, like, apparently you're not supposed to use the gun? It's all delicate down there. Big stupid needles are the way to go. Anyway." She withdraws a needle at random. Moseys back over to the seat and eyes Negasonic's belly, then Negasonic's face, then Negasonic's belly again.

Brandishes that needle.

"Do you ~trust~ me? I'm pretty sure this is gonna be easy, and if you can jump real high you probably have a good, like, immune system? Or at least a healthcare plan?"

Negasonic has posed:
"If it helps you sleep better, you can say I borrowed them." Ellie's voice has resumed being kind of, and by kind of that's absolute, disdainful. She's even got her eyes narrowed at Roxy, "I'm going to need you to get it together." She's unafraid of the process, regardless.

Totally confident.

Right up until Roxy asks if she trusts her, "Sure. I ignored sixteen years worth of people telling me not to trust strangers. Gave up all pretense of stranger danger at the meer mention of getting a piercing from a weird lady sitting outside a tattoo parlor on a news paper stand. This is the foundations of trust."

Squinting at her. "Just do it."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Oh, she'll do it. Roxanne reaches into the kit she opened and withdraws a disinfecting wipe.

"Okay, find the wet nap that smells like chemicals, wipe down the bellybutton..." She DOES this. It probably feels cold and weird, but that's how these things go. You can tell Roxanne's focusing because of how knitted her eyebrows are, and the way she's scrunched up her mouth. She's either focused or confused.

"Wait for it to like, dry..." She leans forward, careful to keep pink bangs from the Genoshan's tummy. To help the process along, Roxanne blows on the newly-disinfected tum. Lavender eyes flit from button to Negasonic's face, anxiously -- no, shut up, YOU'RE anxious, Roxanne's confident! She's got this.

"'Kay." Needle goes down approximately a half-inch above Ellie's bellybutton, Roxy lifts what skin she can with a finger, and -- OW, FUCK is probably how this part feels.

Negasonic has posed:
The longer Roxy takes, the more bored Ellie appears. It's arguable that some of the girls many piercings were done with a safety pin, all of the ones in her ears for sure. Probably not the others for which they do not speak, but certainly anything that would be logical and safe. So she's not scared of a needle at all.

Even a needl in the hands of a novice.

Who appears way too focused to be comfortable.

She purses her lips when Roxy blows on her stomach, perking a dark brow at her, "Did you disinfect your mouth?" Pause, "Just kidding, do it." Then the needle passes through the skin and while she does grimace, it isn't nearly as deeply as one might imagine.

Pain is relative.

"Hold on." She hikes her hip and slips her phone out of her pocket to snap a selfie of Roxy's hands, some of her pink hair, both black gloved hands, her own belly button, and the piercing. "Alright, I'm good now."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Roxanne instinctively flashes a V-sign for the selfie, a bigass smile that isn't in the picture, and also blood is sort of casually dribbling out of the hole she made in Negasonic. Gross. It's a metal picture, all told. Roxanne's quick to pass the needle through the hole she'd made, and checks her phone IMMEDIATELY.

"Okay, uh. We gotta watch to see if it bleeds a bunch." She reaches down to dab at the site with the same disinfectant wipe she'd used earlier. Immediately apologizes because it probably hurts like an ABSOLUTE BITCH. Swaps to a paper towel. Once the bleeding's more or less manageable...

"Aaaand--" She tucks hair behind her ears in a flagrant violation of sterile procedure rules, and gingerly threads a bent barbell piercing through the hole she'd just made. Fingers pull at bellybutton and navigate the chilly metal through the fistula until she's able to cap the thing and secure it.

"Ta-da~"

Negasonic has posed:
Ellie weathers the storm that is all of Roxy's precision, but she looks like she could fall asleep for what little concern she's got for bleeding, pain, and the application of aspetic technique. Once her picture is taken, her fingers lace back behind her head and one ankle crosses the other. Scratching at the stuble on the nape of her neck with blue eyes watching Roxy with an up-down motion.

With the ta-da, things are complete and Nega is covering her tummy, sitting up with one foot going off either side of the chair. "Alright. Your turn. Keeping in mind I'm posting the whole adventure on twitter, so chose wisely." Twitter has some pretty lax rules on what can be posted, so it's honestly the perfect platform for such acitivities so long as it doesn't outright suggest anything illegal!

Implication is one thing.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
What a badass. Roxanne is convinced that Ellie's seriously putting some kind of a show on, and her half-lidded, dubious-AF expression is indicator enough of this. The teen sort of rocks back in her seat and beams at Nega while she finds her feet, and is swift in replacing the other girl in that exam chair.

"Yeah? Fiii-ine. But you gotta do it right! I'm not a superhero or whatever. I could -like die-. -Totally-." Roxanne sits up to pull her jacket off, leaving her in that ratty lil' undershirt. She's a dinky thing - chronically dieting for reasons entirely unrelated to her supermodel sister and teammate - and leans back to pull her undershirt up over her own slightly concave tummy. She's got abs, but they're like, thin abs. You know. Sexy.

She has a normal bellybutton - lil' slit perched between the slight textures of her tum.

"Puh-LEASE. We're puttin' it on my account, too. Just make sure none of the, like, studio branding's in the shot or else we're gonna get in trouble."

Negasonic has posed:
Ellie pushes out of the seat and walks over to wash her hands after tugging off her fingerless gloves. Those are tucketed into her pocket, then her hands washed, and dried. Glancing back over her shoulder at Roxy getting settled into the chair with a shrug. "Hopefully you're not that fragile." Coming back with the paper towel rubbing into her palms, between her fingers, and then leaping from her curled fingers towards a trashcan. She doesn't even look to see if it goes in!

It doesn't, but that's besides the point.

She, like Roxy, tugs on a pair of black examination gloves.

Flexing her fingers into them to get out the air pockets around her knuckles so she's got a good range of motion and all that shit. Then she's reaching for an alcohol swab, cleaning the site thoroughly in outward circles from the center so she doesn't contaminate the incersion site!

"Before." Snapping a picture with her phone. Held up high so her hands, jacket with spikes, and the chair (with no logos visible) are in the shot.

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
She's not nervous. Shut up! She's got ADHD or something, that's why she's twitching like there's a current running from her ass to her scalp, sure. Fingers tappity-tap-tap on the armrests of the chair, and her hips shift with nervous - anxious? - energy while Negasonic dramatically flexes fingers and flubs a three-pointer into the trashcan.

"So, uhm... like." Roxanne takes a deep breath and pulls pink bangs over an ear, flashes a glance down at her unscathed stomach.

"You did all your own piercings, right? You're a super seasoned pro. The best. Super skilled. A regular Baldwin when it comes to this sorta thing." Roxanne manages a searching gaze up towards Ellie, disarming grin aimed up at that flashing camera (again, your face isn't in the shot, Roxy!) and flashing another instinctive v-sign (which IS in the shot.)

"Super-duper skilled. Think about the boys at the pool, Rox. Think about how -boinkable- you're gonna be. Think about..."

Negasonic has posed:
"Depends on the Baldwin." Ellie says in a voice that's more concentration than intent, pinching skin at the apex of Roxy's belly button, "It's not too late to pussy out." She's got a bit of meat between her fingers, blue eyes cutting up to stare at Rox, allowing her an oppertunity to change her mind should she dem it necessary in the face of such overwhelming anxiety.

"I also feel obliged to tell you that making a Baldwin reference is probably the oldest shit you've said all night and you literally mentioned Bruce Willis earlier." There's really not any chance Ellie is going to let Roxy change her mind. It's pretty much a given that this is happening.

What with her passing the needle through the bit of flesh peeking out between her thumb and index finger with a wrinkle creasing her nose when pressure is applied. "Also, I'm more a WILLIAM than an Alec... and I'm talking Virus, not Sliver."

Dabbing at the wound with a cotton ball even though Roxy alcohol swabbed her. Revenge isn't that high a priority right now. "Definitely going to be boinkable. Which is even more lame than a Baldwin reference. You just set back feminism thirty years... Good on ya mate."

"Also, did you know Stephen Baldwin endorsed Lex Luthor for president in 2016? That guy is a posture child for being the biggest bag of dicks on a planet full of bag of dicks."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"What! No WAY. They're all dreamboats. Every. Single. One! And Alec's in EVERYTHING and he's VERY FUNNY and wowyou'regonnadoitholyshitaaaaaAAAAA" Roxanne is not Genoshan, or a trained X-Person, or a trained anything. What she IS is slamming her fist into the armrest over and over again, teeth sunk into the cherry-pink of her lower lip with enough force to leave a mark. FUCK. OW.

She's at least got the presence of mind to limit her flailing to her upper body. It leaves her tum pretty stationary for all of the stabbin' going on. Bleeding? There's a little bit - she's got veins - but Negasonic's dabbing is enough to clear things up. Roxanne grumps at the sensation, blissfully unaware of the extreme pain alcohol would have inflicted.

"Boinkable's a good word!! What would you call it? And William's a pretty good Baldwin, dude. I mean. If a girl was gonna be a Baldwin. I never really thought about it before? I always sort of put myself up as a Winona Ryder. You know, like, sexy, but offbeat and a lil' crazy." She's completely forgot about the hole in her stomach.

She's very big on pop culture.

Negasonic has posed:
"I'd say I'm a Helena Bonham Carter, if I was going to compare myself to anyone. Quirky, dark, kind of weird. Probably psychologically damaged." Ellie pauses while Roxy squirms, lets the whole process sink in, then passes the stainless still barbell through and twists the ball on one end.

Finally, she flicks the wound.

Because she may not have rubbed alcohol on it, but she was definitely lying about not getting vengence.

It's at this point she takes a picture of the newly pierced bellybutton. Complete with whatever reaction follows her flick.

"Winona Ryder always looks like someone stole something from her. Did you see her at the Oscars or Grammies or what the fuckevers, when they went on a political rant at their acceptance? She looked like someone slipped their finger in her ass."

.... "I only know about this because of the memes on twitter."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
"HBC?!" Roxy's laughing while Negasonic continues, but she's listening - little nods here and there assert that she's paying attention. She might even agree. "I dunno. She sorta looks like she's on drugs? A lot? Like she's totally -zonked-. It's like somebody combined goth and horse tranqulizers." She watches Ellie thread the piercing through the hole.

"OWFUCK!" She screams like a bitchy gremlin baby when it's FLICKED. Writhes around on the chair and slappity-slaps at the mutant's hands. It's a pretty shitty show, all told.

Roxanne DOES recover with a little more dignity, tugs her shirt down and sits up to rearrange her jacket. From there it's an issue of tucking hair behind an ear, pocketing her glasses, and frowning *big* at Ellie.

"Twitter's got buttstuff memes? What kind of Twitter are you on?" Rox hops off of the chair, looks around the studio.

"We should probably take those kits with us? Thinking total SVU here. They ALWAYS look for that stuff."

Negasonic has posed:
Ellie furrows her brow, "Don't you talk ill of HBC." She doesn't actually care, "Not when you chastise me for boosting some earrings in one breath, then compare yourself to Queen of the Shoplift with the other." Pushing back away from the chair and stepping back, she turns on her heels to start putting things back the way they were before they broke in.

Everything except the display of earrings. She's keeping those.

Treasure from the hunt.

TROPHIES.

Also options.

"No, not butt stuff memes.. but they're on there. You're grossly underestimating the depravity of regular old twitter. Most indi porn groups advertise on twitter. There's zero rules for what you can post." It's true. "I meant the means about Ryder looking surprised as fuck."

Gloves balled up and put in her pocket. "You ready to go or do you want a jailhouse tattoo while we're here?"

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Roxy's laughing at Ellie's consternation over HBC, all giggles while she tosses kits out the window, to be collected once the pair are on the ground outside. Yes, this is wildly stupid. But also this entire scenario is stupid. It's *fine*. Roxanne pops her head out of the office - where they'd entered - to peer at Ellie while the other girl explains Twitter.

Disgusting. Roxanne is -disgusted-.

"They -advertise-? Like, what are their names? How could they get away with that? Where would you even find that stuff?!?" Roxanne is asking out of scholarly concern. It doesn't matter. What does matter is that she's peering out of the window and nobody's in the alley and the coast is more or less clear.

"We can do jailhouse tattoos next time. We got piercings, right? That's plenty for a hangout. You said your name's Nega? 'Cuz I have no idea how we're getting down. Does your weird angry girl jump thing work both ways?" Roxy pulls out her phone. Maybe there's an eHow on leaping ten feet downwards. Maybe she's being a little bitch about a not-very-big jump. She's got delicate ankles.

Negasonic has posed:
"Seriously?" Ellie stares at Roxy like she's got a leg growing out of her neck, "You just... look it up. Don't pretend like you're new to porn. You're a teenager, you've seen it." She's almost offended, it's offensive, offense is absolutely taken. Snort walking into the office with another glance back over her shoulder into the parlor.

"Just jump. Stop being a bitch." Waiting for Rox to peer out, Ellie jumps up and pushes the other girl through the window. Following after her without much concern for her own ankles. She's 16, they grow back.

"Negasonic Teenage Warhead, yes." ... eyes narrowed. "Or Ellie. I guess you can call me Ellie."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Roxanne manages a brief, bit-off scream before tumbling out the window gracelessly. She falls feet-first and lands with a lowercase thud, improbably unharmed despite her -incredible- lack of acrobatic grace. In fact, she's righting herself by the time Negasonic follows, glancing towards the windows and --

** SHLUMP **

Window closes with enough noise to prompt Roxanne to start high-tailing it out of the alleyway.

"Just 'cuz I didn't wanna harakiri myself out of a window doesn't make me a -bitch-, Ellie!" Roxy's quickstepping it along for a minute, eager to get away from the scene of the... crime? Dumbassed dalliance? There's a word for this and it's somewhere between the two.

"So look. I gotta go home and get food but we should probably hang out? Or at least keep in touch in case -the feds- get called. Drop me your digits."

Negasonic has posed:
Ellie is old hat at criminal activities and she takes off running just as Roxy does. Loud noises being what they are at the scene of a crime! She doesn't stop until they're well away and have several turns behind them, with her cellphone already fished out of her back pocket to check twitter... it's been like ten or twenty minutes!

A billion things have happened since then.

The internet doesn't stop just because she's vibing.

"No, being a sissified tweety bird makes you a bitch." As good natured as her scowling expressionc an muster. Blue eyes cut up to stare at Roxy. She wants to hang out? "Huh... alright. at atomic pin cushion. That's my twitter. My number is-" Rattling of numbers.

"If the feds show up, you better not tell them shit... snitches wind up ditches."

Roxanne Spaulding has posed:
Easy. Peasy. Lemon. Squeezy. Roxanne plops all of that into her phone - she's very good at cheap phones - and rattles off a text while she's catching her breath. To any bystanders watching, it mostly just looks like a club idiot and a satanist went for a nightly jog in all of their clothes, but it -is- New York. Shit happens.

"Yeah? You're the one giving out your Twitter before your phone number. Maybe it makes you a twitty bird?" Roxy scowls right back at Ellie when she's called a -sissified tweety bird-. She can't keep the smile off of her face - it was pretty good. "My at is Gravity Bites." She gestures to the window and its Precipitous Ten Foot Fall like she's making some kind of point.

"Anyway, I'm out. You're pretty fun. Don't worry about the feds, even if the saying's totally like, snitches get bitches? It's not a BAD thing." Roxy straightens, and glances towards the train station.

"Those pictures you snagged better be, like, -good-. I'm puttin' them up as soon as you post them, and I KNOW half the internet wants pictures of this belly."

Negasonic has posed:
"You're so fucking lame." Ellie says this, again, to Roxy, but she does so with that same almost, but not quite grin. She rolls her eyes and shoves her hands into the pockets of her coat once her hood is put back up over her head. "Don't ever question my selfie game." Glancing up, up at ten foot high, then to Rox.

Gravity bites.

She inclines her head, "Clever." She's been around mutants her whole life and shit. Catch pirate nicknames i sher game.

"Snitches. get. bitches." Tongue runs along the inside of her bottom lip. She blinks once, then turns and walks away, "I'm definitely going to pretend like I don't know you right now." Glancing back over her shoulder after taking a dozen or so steps. Phone out to take a look at the picture of Roxy's belly. Lips quirk to the side and she starts walking with the phone up in her face texting. People better move, cus Ellie isn't.