2019-04-27 - Street Corner Hustle


While busking to raise some donations, Gar gets harassed by some local street thugs only to be 'rescued' by Helena and Rose.

Log Info:

Storyteller: None
Date: Sat Apr 27 15:06:02 2019
Location: Mott Street Market

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Theme Song



The market is currently in full-swing with mid-morning crowds shuffling admist the hustle and bustle of street vendors calling out their wares and entertainers working their area for coin. It's a nice and actually Spring-like day, the type that drives all those broody types indoors, pulling their curtains closed and all that stuff.

For Gar Logan, it's a perfect day. He's out on one of the corners… and well. Right now there's a boom box that's playing a custom mix tape while the greenest spider monkey ever is currently breakdancing on a large piece of cardboard. It's drawn a small crowd of on-lookers as the monkey spins and bounces to the beat, doing a dance, while a jar nearby reads: All Tips Donated to the Mutant Town Foundation. There's a few bills and change in there currently as the monkey breaks into a moonwalk.

Helena Wayne is going to have to go home eventually. But maybe not…right now just yet. She left enough of a sign to make sure the people who might worry otherwise know she's alive, but she's not going home right now. Which means she's wandering. The market is always a good place to get lost for a little bit. And besides, there's a stall that sells fresh fried apple donuts with cinnamon icing on the weekends.

Helena is just stepping away from that stall, little paper basket of donuts in hand, as the music catches her attention. Shoving a whole mini donut into her mouth on the way, she moves toward the small crowd to get a better look.

It's not that Rose Wilson cared about the market. Or, even, had any business there. It's just that she's bored. And she needed a fix, from that boredom. Whether it was beating someone up, finding someone to take back to her hotel, or finding a new watering hole to try and get drunk at it really didn't matter.

Her platinum hair, and her eyepatch certainly make her stand out from the rest of the crowd. As does her somewhat surly attitude and the slash of her lips and set jawline as she surveys the various faces, and people, and all the good moods. "Out of my way, loser," she mutters, pushing past a girl going on about fabrics and summer dresses at a stall she sees.

With the beat of the song dying down, the dancing monkey slides back to the boom box and stops the music. After it's stopped, the monkey grows and changes, going from an innocous green monkey to an equally innocous - and green young man. "Thank you, thank you! Next show's in thirty minutes!" In the meantime, he's picking up the jar to pass it around, looking for those generous souls that are looking to make donations.

"Donations for mutants? Don't mind if I do." says a young man, as he snags the jar from Gar. Tossing it back to his large friend, he smirks. "See, he's got a mutation. He eats too much!" the greasy kid says with a laugh. "And what's in that jar will just about cover his lunch."

"Hey!" Gar protests, all five feet of him puffing up. "That's not for you!" comes the complaint as he stands up to the young man, that's easily got a foot on him in height. His reward is to be shoved back back the kid. "Why don't you go find a tree to go swing from!" the ganger responds, drawing a laugh from the larger boy and a couple of his friends. "This is our corner. Be glad we're just letting you go without your money." His hand comes from his pocket, opening up a menancing looking switchblade.

"Do you have to try to be that big of a dick to compensate, or does it just come naturally?" Helena hasn't even finished chewing her donut when she walks up toward the pair of bullies. In fact, she doesn't put down the paper basket either. Or the second mini donut she's got in her other hand. Street donuts are a rare treat, after all.

"Come on, man. Put down the knife, give the guy back his money, and go pick on someone your own IQ. Like…a stump." Teenage mean girl really is a martial art of its own.

As Rose nears the crowd, and the present gang-banger happening, she slows. This catches her attention, but not for the spectacle itself. She, honestly, could care less if the green monkey gets his money back. Or if mutants get any funding.

Instead, Rose simply bullies her way to the front of the scene without so much as an excuse me, and then looks to watch the scene unfold for now. She mutters to herself, though those near can hear her, "What's he going to do with that knife? Clean his toenails?"

With Helena's approach, the greaser glances over to her, and snorts. "If you want, sweetheart, we can go around the corner and show you compensation." he says with a look over the atheltic young woman. "Go back home and blog about how you were a wanna be social justice warrior today." comes the response with a snort at her, clearly deeming Helena 'not a threat'.

One of the other gangbangers glances towards Rose, and arches a brow. "Want to see a real knife?" he asks, as he pulls up his shirt to show the handle for what is probably one of those hunting knives that you can buy at the market.

Gar's frowning now as he sees the weapons. "We don't need to go to violence, guys. Look, give back the money, and I'll buy your pet hippopatmus lunch, okay?" The large guy pushes forward, and shoves Gar. "What did you just call me?!" he yells at him.

"A hippo— oh, you've probably never seen one!" Gar realizes. "Here." And with that, the young man shifts, grows, and suddenly there's a full sized Hippo sitting in front of the large man, who's starting to pale. Peering at the man, the hippo smiles, showing off those large flat teeth. And then belches in the large man's face.

"Oh baby, oh baby, oh," Helena deadpans at the offer to go around the corner, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Sighing, she puts the next mini donut in her mouth, freeing up a hand to pull out her cell phone and snap a picture of the thugs.

"Not actually for the purpose of swiping left," she notes around the donut in her mouth. "But, you know. It'll be super useful for the cops when they get here. You guys don't have rap sheets yet, right? First offense?"

When Gar turns into a hippo, though, she breaks into a sudden laugh, covering her mouth with the back of one hand. "Fun fact," she shares. "Hippos - deadliest animals in Africa by the numbers."

Someone lacks a sense of humor, it would appear. It is not Gar, nor is it Helena. But, rather, as the hunting knife is shown to Rose and waggled at her in what the boy thinks is a threatening fashion, Rose moves, fluidly. Quicker than the eye, she.

And in that instant, there's a rather - uncomfortable - snapping sound as the wrist holding the knife is bent and twisted in a mannr the human body was not meant to either bend, or twist. Her free hand extracts the knife from his hand even as she does this and leverage is used to simply make the boy kneel in front of her.

Then, still holding pressure to the broken bone, Rose says, calmly, twisting the knife one way, and then the other, "It has no balance. Not even all that sharp. If you paid five dollars for it, you paid too much. Not even worth the steel it's made out of," she tells him, absently.

Then Rose looks at him, "But you really shouldn't play with any knives, unless you know how to use them. You could piss off the wrong people. Then, you'd end up looking like a complete ass, in front of your friends."

"Oh my god, thank you!" Gar responds to Helena. "Everyone is like the most dangerous animal in Africa is the lion or a snake or even a tiger. Tigers don't even live in Africa! All people remember about the hippopatumus is hungry hungry hippo or you know, Gayla Peevey wanted one for Christmas in 1953." he mutters.

Things were just about to escalate more, when Rose steps in. Snapping the boy's wrist, he yelps, dropping the knife and nearly dropping to his knees in the process. "Owwww!" he's nearly crying as Rose manhandles him easily.

"Freaking mutie-lovers." the orginial greaser says, waving the knife at Helena, and then in the true colors they are, he's turning and trying to run - taking the jar with him in the process. The large guy turns to run as well.

However, Gar reaches out and /bites/ the back of the man's shirt, ripping it before he manages to pull it away. Gar shakes the shirt like a prize for a couple of seconds before he's turning back into his human form, and tossing the shirt to the side.

"Are you- is that?" Helena just gives the boy a pitying look when he waves the knife at her, catching Rose's display out of the corner of her eye. "Wow. You make bad decisions." Tucking her phone away, she points a thumb at his friend just in time for him to run off with the jar. Huh.

She could just let him get away. Not like she can't make up the money herself. But he's also definitely not a 'good' person. But Helena Wayne is not a well-trained fighter, just an ordinary SJW…right?

"Jerk!" she shouts after him, reaching for a broken piece of pallet leaning against the nearest stall and winging it after him. It'd just be dumb luck if it brained him, right?

Rose swings her foot up, and into the boy's sternum. Hard. Enough to lift him up, briefly, before she lets him go entirely. The calculated blow will leave him breathless, the wind knocked out of him in that painful 'I'm going to die' way as the body cannot seem to get air for a few precious seconds.

Then, she tosses the knife back to the boy. "Next time you try to draw a knife and point at it me? Make sure you know how to use it. Asshole."

And, as if nothing happened, Rose reaches into her hip-hugging jeans and draws out a pack of cigarettes and a zippo lighter, lighting up withotu looking, or even caring, how the rest of the little spectacle is going. Or that she's smoking in a crowded area when smoking is 'no longer cool'.

The knife clatters to thr ground in front of the boy, as he gasps and struggles for air. As soon as he's able, he manages to scrabble to his feet, glaring daggers at Rose before he runs away, scrabbling to his feet to join the others..

That is until the subtle skill of Helena throwing a makeshift batarang shows - even if it is just a lucky throw - as it strikes the greaser in the back of the head. He falls foward, dropping the jar as it shatters and spills it's contents, before he's getting back up to run away with the other street boys - none of them wanting to admit they just got their asses handed to them by a pair of young women.. and a hippo.

Back in his human form, Gar frowns. "Oh no!" he exclaims, as he moves over to the jar to try to collect the funds together. "Thank you thank you…" he offers to the pair as he's cleaning up the loose change. "I mean.. I could have handled it, but I didn't want to get all.. freaky on them!" There's a little laugh at that, as Gar looks between the two. "Uhm. Can I buy you lunch? I mean.. least it seems I can do for the two women that saved me."

Helena snags a paper bag from one of the vendors, heading over to help Gar pull the money out of the glass. "Careful, don't cut yourself," she cautions, palming a hundred dollar bill into the bag in the process. "It's all good," she grins at the offer of lunch, holding up her undisturbed paper basket of donuts. "I got what I came for. That's a pretty cool trick, the shapeshifting."

She looks over her shoulder toward Rose, equally curious. "He's, uh. Probably gonna remember that." It's hard to tell if that's a compliment or a criticism. Or just an attempt to not say something not-nice.

Rose's monocular vision turns to focus on Helena, and she says blandly, "Of course he will. He will bring friends to try and get what he feels is justice. Likely four, or five others. Not more," she says, mildly, "Because that would invalidate him. Just enough to make it seem personal for him, and that his 'friends' are helping." It's like Rose is giving instructions for making cookies, rather than talking about a vindictive hit upon her person.

"And, likely he'll bring a gun. And not tell them about it. It'll be his little surprise for me."

Rose stoops, picking up the knife, "Shit they pass for a knife, these days," she mutters, wryly, and disappointed. She then tosses the knife into the nearest wastebarrel, where it appears she thinks at very least it belongs before looking at Gar.

"Saved you? From what? Those two? The hell? I've seen more dangerous twelve year olds." Which - is true. At twelve, she could've just as easily taken each of them, thanks to her mother's training.

"Thanks. Maybe I was born with it, maybe it was my dad's serum." Gar quips with a chuckle. "The green.. well.." he pirouettes. "That came later." There's a smile before he dips down into a bow, accepting the bag to tuck the money into. "Gar Logan, star of screen big and small, and of stage large or tall - even if that stage is a cardboard box." It's okay if neither woman recognizes him. He's only used to save on special effects, after all.

And it's not the first time he's been turned down either, which he handles with a warm chuckle. "I'm glad you didn't lose your donuts!" he responds, as he glances over to Rose as she starts to speak. "Well, if they come back, I'll just have to be ready for them. Or you know.. you can be ready for them. Because clearly she was the threat, right?" He most likely could have handled them easily. Time on other teams and all that. But he's not exactly embracing that life at the moment.

"Well, uhm. Thank you anyway?"

Helena has seen some more dangerous twelve year olds herself, but she's not allowed to talk about it. Because RULES. "I mean…as long as you're cool with it," she replies to Rose with another sidelong glance. Gar, on the other hand, earns a wry smile. "Nice to meet you, Gar," she replies, offering out a hand. "I'm Helena."

She may have turned down the offer of lunch, but she doesn't seem in a hurry to run off anywhere either. "And I've been told the only way to deal with bullies is to stand up to them, so. Can't let a few stupid jerks get in the way of a worthwhile cause. Do you live in Mutant Town?"

Taking a long drag off her cigarette, Rose blows out a plume of smoke, "They've been warned," Rose says, matter-of-factly to Gar. "What happens next is on them." Her words are almost distant, and Gar might have enough experience on former teams to realize the full implication of what Rose meant. And, Helena might have enough training with her parents to recognize that as well. Next time - a broken wrist will be the least of the boys worries, as far as Rose is concerned.

She doesn't hand her name out, but she's watching the other two now, with a lazy sort of interest from her good eye.

"In Mutant Town? No." Gar admits, and gives a shrug. "My parents had a townhouse over in Chelsea. It's where I live now." Apparently, he has some money, if he can afford that. Though he also used his parents in the past tense. "I just do this because it's better than just.. writing a check, or something. I feel like it's doing something real to help, instead of just throwing money at it. It brings attention."

He lets out a breath. "Also brings out.. well, that." he shrugs. "But there's enough of the good in the world that it doesn't bother me all that much!" Ever the optimist. He raises both of his brows to Rose, and tilts his head, considering her. "For their sake, I hope they don't come back." he finally decides, before shooting a smile to Helena. "That was an awesome throw with the wood, by the way!"

Helena Wayne looks between Gar and Rose, brow quirking briefly at the other girl. "Yeah," she says slowly with Gar. "I'm with you on that one." Her smile flickers at the mention of the throw and she distracts herself with another mouthful of donut. "Lucky throw, I guess," she says with a chipmunk-cheeked smile. "It's a good thought, the dancing. And you're right. It's not about the money, it's about what you do with it. And the awareness."

A small sort of what is likely derusion from Rose at the optimism shared by the other two. "You two should either open a comedy act, or interrupt a nature special on PBS and try to get donations by selling $300 tote bags," she says, wryly.

"But," Rose admits, "It was a nice throw." Too nice. But, curiousity prevents Rose from bluntly calling out Helena, just yet.

Accepting the hand after Helena offers it, Gar gives it a good shake, and then snickers when she goes all chipmunk on him, "It was an /awesome/ throw." He doesn't care if it was luck or skill, he was just impressed with it. Then Rose speaks up.

And Gar turns to her, and sticks out his tongue. "Nyeh." is his succient reaction to her teasing barb. "Anyway.." he presses his fingers together. "I should get ready for my next go at this, and all." He grins towards the pair, "Maybe we'll run into each other again." comes the hopeful response, before he's going. "I need to find a new jar before the next show!"

"I take offense to that," Helena smirks over at Rose. "You don't end up on PBS fundraisers until you're at least thirty years past your famous prime. I've got years of network TV specials and ASPCA commercials to go before I hit PBS." Finishing the last of the donuts, she tosses the basket in the nearest trash can and wanders over toward the barrel where Rose dumped the knife, peeking in on it. "Probably shouldn't leave that just…around."

Rose makes a motion with her hand that suggests she wants nothing to do with it. "Then, you take it, and bury it somewhere," she counters back, either oblivious, or uncaring that someone else might pick it up and use it for a crime, or murder weapon, or to stab their younger sisters dolls apart vindictively beause said younger sister told on them and they got grounded.

Of course, if Helena does pick up the knife, she'll have the experience to know exactly what Rose was talking about. It's a half-assed made knife, and it's quite improperly imbalanced. Clearly made in mass quantity without much quality control. A cheap knife for suckers, little more.

"Of course," Rose suddenly begins, "They might come after you, first. With that lucky throw, and all. Think you're an easier target. Practice, since they know I can - well, defend myself to some degree," she hazards. Now? Now Rose is smiling. A slight lopsided curve to her lips. But it's not necessaily one of humor. Amusement? Perhaps.

"Damn. Guess I better take this, then." Helena pulls the knife out of the barrel, shaking it off a bit before tucking it away. "Maybe I can wiggle it at them threateningly like I've got a clue how to use it." She smiles back guilelessly, tucking her hands into her pockets in her best clueless socialite pose.

"I'm not too worried. I'm not really from this neighborhood, so they'll be waiting for a while if they want to hunt me down. I don't think they're quite that ambitious."

A puff of hair escapes out of Rose's nose in a chuff of bare appreciation for Helena's evasion. "Lucky you," she states back, dryly. She lifts a hand, then, even as the cigarette butt is tossed onto the ground to be left smoking. She does not squish it with the toe of her boot. "Guess that means we can't get together and go pick up some boys for a little fun, sometime soon."

There's definitely a glimmer of humor in Helena's eyes now, smile tugging at one corner of her lips. "I feel like your idea of picking up boys for fun is probably a little bit different from mine. Like, mine probably involves dinner, a movie, maybe a little light ice skating or competition on the scale of a board game or a sports game, and yours may involve blood, alcohol, and hard drugs." There's no judgment in the words - if anything, it sounds like the idea is a fun one whether or not she'd follow through on it.

Hardly offended, Rose states, "I actually like to have fun, true. Movies are lame. Ice skating is stupid. But, no. Not really into hard drugs. Maybe a couple roaches, though. And, I leave blood where it belongs. On the ground, after a fight. Not in the bedroom. Pain in the ass to get out of the sheets," she states, conversationally.

Helena's lips twitch again, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "Well hey, some boundaries are nice." She steps closer, offering out a hand. "I didn't catch your name earlier. I feel like if we're going to make plans, names might be helpful." No shame, no fear. If nothing else, this strange, one-eyed girl looks like she's interesting.

It's a few moments of consideration as Rose debates if the girl is 'worth' sharing her name over. Most people, after all, are just losers she'd rather not bother with. But, she eventually puts out her hand, shakes Helena's own, briefly. "Rose," she says. "I'm sure you'll find me, if you're interested. Let's consider it an open offer."

"Nice to meet you, Rose." Helena's grip is firm enough to mean it, but not so firm as to be trying to make a point. "I'm Helena." In case she missed it earlier. Though she still leaves off the last name. The last name is definitely only for making a point. "I'll keep that in mind the next time I need to blow off some steam."

Rose gives a brief laugh. "Yeah. You come find me. We'll have some real fun," she agrees, her own grip firm enough, but Rose also isn't trying to make a point. Helena's got her curious, that's for sure. And who knows? The girl could be a good companion to pick up a few dangerous boys to knock boots with, or - whatever fate might bring. "See you around, maybe." She nods, and begins to head down the same direction she was walking, somewhat in better spirits. She got to snap someone's wrist, and meet Helena. That strange green fellow was an oddity, too. Oh well.

"Don't be a loser," Rose calls without looking back.

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