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| Drive Ins, Diners, and Dives | |
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| Participants | Lorna Rogue |
| Synopsis | What happens when two mutants meet in an unfriendly part of town? Nothing. |
| Location | Mike's Diner - SoHo |
| Time | January 13, 2016 |
| Posted By | Lorna |
It's early evening and early evening in New York city means it's DARK. So dark in fact, that the only thing visible through the dirty window are the buildings across the street. SoHo, while great during the day, isn't that great a place to hang out at night. With this in mind, Lorna ducks into the grungy place and takes a seat in one of the booths as she tries to change the sim cards between her old broken phone and her new one.
Rogue, oddly, is not that worried, wandering the neighbourhood of the working poor after dark. But she's not looking to get herself into stupid trouble either, having her hands full with actual, worthwhile trouble. So her pace is unhurried, but she doesn't dally, bringing her into the diner not long after Lorna has settled herself in the booth. The southerner grabs herself a stool at the counter, plucking up one of the laminated menus as she rotates slowly on the stool, giving the place a once over. Seems unlikely anyone will recognize her here, provided she keeps her head down, but a gal can never be too careful. Lorna's vibrant hair certainly catches the younger woman's attention, earning her a longer study.
Lorna's lime green hair catches the attention of everyone in the diner. So much like the vibrant green hair on the billboards on the top of one of the buildings across the street. The large poster has long since been vandalized and the face colored with a black beard, mustache, and blackened teeth. Not like the woman sitting in the booth. One of the waitresses flits to the table and glances between the giant billboard and the customer, so often in fact, that Lorna too looks across the street. "Oh…" Her face flushes with a little embarrassment. "Can I get a milk?" She doesn't say a word about her likeness, and after writing own the order, the waitress trundles off.
The waitress's attention causes Rogue to notice the poster across the way, though she has to lean forward slightly in her seat to see it properly. Straightening back up, she catches the waitress on the way past, putting in an order for a coffee with a side of fries. Not the most conventional order, but it's what she's feeling like. That done, she lets her attention drift back to Lorna. "You look different in person," she drawls in that slow southern style, nodding with a not-unfriendly smirk towards the vandalized poster. "Might be for the best though." The beard, mustache and black teeth really do nothing for her.
The red tinge to her cheeks goes a little bit deeper and Lorna's eyes drift down toward the table. "Uh.. yeah, I'm not really a fifty foot bearded woman in real life." She looks up at Rogue with a small smile, appreciating her own joke a little more than the rest of the company in the diner, maybe. It's not a secret that the green haired woman is a mutant. This earns her a few glares from less tolerant customers in the place, glares that she's ignoring. She adjusts herself primly in her seat and pulls off her puffy pink parka, placing it on the seat next to her.
When the waitress comes by with her milk, she gives the woman a smile and pulls a straw from the dispenser on the table. Thankfully they're all wrapped in paper, because the layer of grime around the small eatery is enough to put most people off.
Perhaps it's because of that layer of grime that Rogue has yet to remove her gloves. She leans back against the counter, still turned the wrong way about on her stool. While Lorna ignores the glares, she glances briefly, subtly around, getting a measure of the room. "Yeah, a beard that big'd probably make ya stand out," she agrees with mock sagacity, after thinking it over. When her coffee is placed on the counter behind her, she turns partway around so that she can dump several water-stained teaspoons of sugar into it before giving it a quick stir.
A large smile is given to the woman, then it wanes just a little bit not fading completely. The sparkle that was in her eyes disappears completely as Lorna tries to keep up the charade of being cheerful and personable. It's should be clear to the other woman that she just might have been recognized outside of her comfort zone. "Uhm.. Yeah, the beard." She bends over just slightly to take a sip from the straw before looking back up to Rogue. "I'm Lorna, by the way. Lorna Dane."
Rogue certainly recognizes the change in mood, and can draw a fairly swift conclusion from it, if only because she's been on her guard since coming in here. There's another quick flicker of her gaze around at those people who expressed some anti-mutant sympathies before, but as they still seem to be more annoyed with the green hair than the terrorist in their midst, Rogue stays cool for now. She drops her voice a notch before replying, just the same. "Nice to meetcha. They call me Rogue." Now Lorna is being watched carefully to see just what she's going to do with this epiphany of hers.
A quick glance is given to the seat across from the young woman and then her right hand is upturned and pointed toward it, in invitation. "Want to sit with me? It's kind of clean." Not that it matters, of course, the whole place is pretty dirty. She doesn't seem to host an aire of malice, quite the opposite in fact, more of uncertainty or curiosity. "I mean, company in rougher parts of town is much better than sitting alone." Then she gives a wary look around them, "Especially here." She's sort of regretting her choice of diners, just because of the glares from a few of the other patrons.
Rogue only needs to consider the offer for a brief moment before nodding in agreement. "Yeah, all right." In a smooth move, she rises from her stool, grabbing the cup of joe and bringing it with her. She settles into the empty seat, sitting sideways with a leg hitched up on the bench and her back against the window. It looks casual, but really, it's more so that she can keep an eye on the establishment. It seems safer keeping her back to the street than the inside. Lorna gets a discerning look as Rogue tries to figure out her angle - friend to the Cause, or just curious? Either way, it's in turn piqued Rogue's curiosity. "Yeah, friendly little bastards, ain't they," she muses, giving the other customers another quick glance.
"Yeah, about as friendly as a cow with a thistle stuck in its hoof." It's a reference that Rogue is likely not going to get, but it's coming from the girl from Iowa. She leans forward in her seat a little to take another sip from her straw. Milk through a straw is always that much better, just because you don't get the milk mustache. "I kind of wanted to ask you some questions…" she starts quietly, her voice lowered so that only the woman across from her can hear. Something she didn't expect though, is for the conversation to take an angry turn when one of the other customers takes offense to 'mutie whisperins.'
"Takin' it that ain't real friendly," Rogue surmises with an amused smirk, glancing over at the Iowa girl. But hey, the Mississippi native will cast no stones on home states. She lifts a brow at the mention of questions, nodding as if she both expected and invites them. She's not even that surprised when one of the bigots in the joint starts getting his panties in a twist, making their bigotry known. "You really don't wanna go bitin' off more'n you can chew," she warns him as she brings her gaze slowly back from Lorna to level on the customer in question. She doesn't even seem that angry about it, but there's a steeliness that suggests she does have the courage of her convictions.
This is really not the position Lorna wants to be in, but she turns to face the gentlemen with a smile and takes a deep breath. "I just wanted to ask my friend where I could.. uhm.. buy some things around here. Personal things." The green haired woman says agreeably, peaceably even. It's probably what the Professor would want her to do. "I didn't think you'd want to hear about it, but if you'd like to join us, you're more than welcome." This earns quite a bit of disdain from the roughnecks and they simply grumble and turn back to grumble amongst themselves.
When they take their attention from Lorna and Rogue, Lorna licks her lips nervously and says in a normal voice, "Uhm… maybe we could take somewhere else? Do you have a cell phone number or something?"
Rogue just continues staring flatly at the man, wholly unimpressed with the size of his cojones. But she doesn't run in to undo Lorna's lies, even if she thinks they're a waste of time. At least they work, and the diner remains in one piece for the time being. "Yeah, might be there's better places for this talk," she agrees, slow to take her attention from the man and return it to Lorna, though she does so eventually. "Ah'll give ya a number where Ah can be reached. You got a pen or somethin'?" She's already reaching to grab a grubby napkin from the dispenser with a gloved hand. Spotting the waitress emerging with her fries, she waves her away. "Be takin' those to go, Ah think."
Lifting her phone, Lorna smiles. "I have one better, actually. Here, just put it into the phone." She passes the little device over to the other woman. It's switched on, brand new, and therefore completely blank. The men have started grumbling just a little louder, too loud for Lorna's comfort and she glances back nervously at them. "Uhm.. I'm sorry, I'm just trying to ask directions now…" As though explaining their actions might appease the strangers. As long as they get out in one piece, that's all Lorna really cares about at this juncture. Not that there's a fear of her breaking in two… but she's not sure the men with the little cojones would survive.
Rogue catches the phone readily, glancing down at it. "Popular, aincha," she teases lightly, as she starts punching in her name and number, surprisingly dexterous in gloves. She glances up every few digits to look at the grumbling men from under her brow. As Lorna apologizes for their existence, she just looks back down at the phone, finishing off the entry. "There ya go," she notes, sliding the phone back over before withdrawing her hand. "You shouldn't have to apologize for what you are," she adds in a lowered voice that's still not a whisper. "You get tired of that, you should come visit." One thing she definitely doesn't have to put up with on Rykers.
