Summary:The Store is visited by Spider-Man, Cindy Moon works her shift at The Store, and a certain Blue Fuzzy Doctor shows up. Breakfast for dinner is had, and lovely conversation. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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He usually visits when out of "uniform," but the faded noise of sirens reveals he's been a mite busy. Carjacking and a high-speed chase. So much going on.
So, when he arrives at the store, he lands on the roof of the store, then unlocks the roof access (something he felt was a good security measure to secure) and strolled inside. He made his way down to the third floor, looking around as he calls, "Yoo hoo, Deeg? Just your Friendly Neighborhood Webhead here…"
Cindy comes out of the backroom, carrying a load of recently donated clothes and some electronics she's sorted out, upon hearing the voice. She blinks a few times when she sees who it is. "Spider-Man!?" Blinks again. "Wow. Uh. Hi? Can I help you?"
She seems more earnestly surprised, than star-struck, but she's at least wearing some actual new clothes instead of the very, very well-worn things Spider-Man had seen Cindy in before when they first met.
"Oh! Hey there, Webhead! You hungry?" Dead GIrl calls up- she's in the kitchen, trying to decide just what she wants to cook. "You got any requests?! I haven't decided what to make for dinner, yet." she admits, as she goes a touch translucent and floats up through the floor- right to the Third Floor before becoming solid again. She walks over and offers the costumed Spider-Man a hug. "OOH! Always good to see you." she assures the young man, "Come on. Let's figure out something to eat. It sounds like you've been busy."
She doesn't just float through the floor this time- it's easy enough to walk with a friend, "I think Cindy is around here somewhere… She might be trying on clothes…" Dead Girl grins! "Did you find anything there you like?" she wonders of Cindy, "You know you can take whatever clothes you want." she assures Cindy. "I'm about to start dinner, why not join us, sweetheart?" she says over to Cindy as she begins towards the stairs once more.
Hank had a hankerin' to see the old neighborhood, he used to live in Greenwich Village until his mutations got fuzzy - then the neighbors got a lot more unpleasant and he didn't want to draw the attention (and possible firepower!) of mutant haters or hunters down upon the innocent. So, after attending a lecture at the university, he took the subway to the village and stopped for a moment to check out The Store. Seems it has been here forever and a day, and he's never actually set foot inside prior. Entering, the big fuzzy blue guy in a suit peers about with avid interest, sapphire blue eyes bright as he takes in…he's not sure what. Softly. "Oh my stars and garters…" It is telling that Spiderman doesn't immediately grab Hank's attention - and then, a pause, and he shifts his gaze back to the wallcrawler. Yeah, this is…this is definitely an interesting place! The two ladies are offered polite smiles, though he's clearly trying to decide if she should be concerned about Spidey as a threat. J.J. Jameson having done a fine job of blitzing the media, and they've not met—Hank & Spidey, though…JJJ is a bit of a jerk…
Spidey smiles slightly under the mask. "That reminds me. Parker asked me to give you this. It's a recipe for vegetarian meatloaf. He says his aunt swears by it."
He takes out a 3x5 index card with delicate black writing, handing it to Deeg.
He looks up and smiles to Cindy, waving to her. "Hello, Miss Moon."
Then he spots the big hairy guy and pauses slightly. He's seen too much to judge on appearances alone. And been taught too well. So he raises a hand in greeting. "Hey there."
Dead Girl certainly doesn't seem worried. Then again, if the stories are true, very few things can worry Dead Girl. But, one thing everyone in Greenwich knows is that *everyone* is welcome in The Store. Dead Girl has never turned anyone away- she's tossed a few people out on their butts, sure, but it doesn't matter what one looks like or what their genetics are or what they believe or who they love. They are welcome here.
"Oh, hey! We've got a visitor!" Dead Girl chirps, "Heya, Stranger!" the tone is friendly, welcoming, warm- despite the fact that there is absolutely a corpse speaking those words. "Welcome to The Store! Wander around, take a look at all the things. Maybe we can make a trade- and, of course, I'm about to start dinner, so please feel free to join us! Food is always free at the Store!"
"Ooh! We're trading recipes! That's the next step in old-lady friendship, you know. I'm going to send her my goulash recipe. A wandering Hungarian spirit taught it to me. Very old school. Very good."
"Oh, no, I was just going to put these out," Cindy tells Dead Girl, earnestly with a smile. "I've got plenty now. I still can't thank you enough." She's seen more than a few unusual people come into The Store, and beyond and Hank doesn't phase her too much, but she does look at him curiously - bright blue fur will make people do that. She tells Spiderman, and Hank both, "Cindy is just fine. Thank you."
There's a grin then, as Dead Girl and Peter seem to be willing to trade some reciepes, "Now you'll never get her to stop," she teases Spider-Man. "I think the only thing she loves more than cooking is feeding people."
Cindy then moves over and starts setting out the electronics and clothes into their proper spaces and places, but it doesn't take her too long.
She asks Hank, "First time here? It's a pretty neat place," she confides, as if it were a secret. "Lots of cool stuff to swap for, and there's a dinner held every Sunday. A potluck thing. You should come sometime."
Hank McCoy is a little nonplussed at how calm everyone is, and then he smiles broadly, brightly and warmly. "Hello, Spiderman…" He hops to land within the reach of very long arms and offers a hand. "Hank McCoy, some might know me as the Beast." That dinner-plate spanning hand is offered, and if Spidey should take it he'd find the grip firm, but definitely under complete control.
What triggered that warm smile? Dead Girl's completely and irrefutably genuine smile of welcome. That smile couldn't have been forced, not in Hank's book, if he's wrong? Well…then he's wrong. The toothy and befanged grin turns wry. "Oh, indeed, stranger than most, dear lady. And I think you very kindly for the welcome and…" He pats his stomach. "..I suspect I can manage to tuck away some provender should it be provided. And as to trade…I see several original art works of interest, what sort of goods does one offer? I'm curious, this is unlike any playce I've been to."
To Cindy he offers a bow, hand to chest, other arm extended to the side. "A pleasure, Cindy." He nods then. "First time, yes. I'm a Store-gin?" A sad nod. "Quite a different thing than a sturgeon, I assure you."
Spider-Man blinks. It can be seen as the lenses close and open again. "Hey…I know you. I've read your work. Uhm…RNA Imbalances and Their Use in Genetic Markers? That's you, right?"
"Everyone is welcome in The Store." Dead Girl assures Hank. "No matter who they are." Really, in a place lived in and run by a walking corpse a tall, blue, furry guy isn't all that odd. "Most of the art is not for trade. They were gifts. Especially the crayon ones. One of my nephews did those for me and they're very special to me." Dead Girl, apparently, is the type of person who will hang a child's masterpiece next to the like of great modern artists. "However, for the right Trade, I could *possibly* give one up. Just not the ones my nephew did. Those ones are too special."
Into the Kitchen, Dead Girl goes. "Looks like it'll be dinner for three! Any requests?" Dead Girl wonders, looking back. "Oh! And I have drinks, if someone wants something. Beer and mead. I should have some wine in the basement, if that's more your style. And, of course, water, and home made lemonaide and sweet tea. Coffee, and hot tea also, of course." Dead Girl says, rattling off what is on the menu for today- and waiting to hear what the living wish to eat.
"Anyways, yes! As Cindy says, we can Trade. But, Trades here are important. You need to give up something that's holding you back, and try to find something that might help you move forward. All trades are final- so don't give away something you can't part with. Only the things you haven't been able to." Dead Girl notes, "Hrm. Maybe something quick. Breakfast for dinner, maybe? Pancakes, waffles, eggs, bacon, that sort of stuff?"
"I'll get the lemonade. I don't think Spider-Man wants to go drunk web-slinging," Cindy says, with an amused sort of smile. She looks to Hank, curiously, "What would you like to drink?"
And, of course, to Dead Girl she chimes, "Waffles, eggs, and bacon sounds pretty fantastic. At least to me. I can help, if you need." She is after all, getting paid. Not much, but it's something.
She turns to Spider-Man and Hank, telling them, "Dead Girl gave me a job until I can get on my feet. Income really helps. As do the meals." She pats her stomach. "You two can talk science-stuff while we get the eats."
And that blink from Spiderman and the referencing of his work, draws an answering blink from Hank and a delighted smile. "Well, yes, that was something I published, that was just over two years ago, if you'd like I can see you get a copy of later work I did with nucleotides…it is actually theoretically feasible to alter those markers to 'track' aberrant traits, even better with the right delivery system these could be used to repair damage to cells and both RNA, to help with memory, or DNA to correct any number of genetic ailments." Hank's grin fades. "Of course—the delivery system is the tricky part, and tinkering with genetics on living subjects can get rather…" He motions to himself. "…hairy." Hey! Nobody said he can't have a sense of humor, right?
Hank turns towards Dead Girl, and shakes his head in wonder. "Everyone welcome, now that's a credo I can get behind. Sign me up for your newsletter, mm? Or if you lack one, how about if I design a website for you?" He chuckles, deep basso rumbles, and then nods. "I wasn't expecting to trade for the rare items, but knowing that you tend to ask for…cathartic offerings, that is interesting indeed." A pause. "Forgive me if it is impertinent, but how shall I call you? And yes - breakfast, especially waffles, is always a welcome feast. And coffee. And orange juice…and perhaps a bit of bacon." Hey! He needs a LOT of calories to keep his massive furnace stoked — especially considering his workout regimen.
"Coffee and OJ, please, Cindy. Black, please but sweet." Ah ha! "So…the proprietress is the Dead Girl? Vunderbar!"
Spider-Man nodded. "Listen, it may be a late breakfast, but I was wondering if I could pick your brain. A few questions you would be qualified to answer, or at least know what the heck I'm talking out. If I'm presuming too much, I apologize." He doesn't want to bother the guy when he's trying to relax, unwind, and get his breakfast on. "It's…well, questions of a personal nature."
Cindy moves to get OJ, coffee, and lemonade for everyone with a measure of familiarity to The Store, and The Store's kitchen. She hums happily to herself as she does so, making two trips and coming out on the first trip with a pot of cofeee, a pitcher of OJ, and on the next trip, a pitcher of water, and one with lemonade.
She looks curiously between Spider-Man and Hank, but, admits, "I'm more of a sports girl, myself. I play hockey. Or did, all the time." A rueful grin. "Never really studied science much. But it seems all the rage these days. Maybe I should. SOrry. DIdn't mean to interrupt." She looks sheepish a moment, then allows the two boys to go back to their intellectual discussion, still in a good mood.
"I've got a web guy." Dead Girl says, tossing a thumb towards Spider-Man with a wide grin. "I'm really proud of that one." she confesses to the room, still grinning quite wide. She nods towards Cindy. "Sounds good! Start on the drinks, and I'll get the food starting." Dead Girl collects her various cooking implements and ingredients. "And yeah, that's me! Dead Girl. New York's Finest Corpse since Nineteen Sixty!"
"The Trade is important. The living hold onto a lot of things- sometimes those things give strength, and sometimes they're a chain. Freedom of spirit is as important as freedom of the body." she remarks, "And so, knowing what I know, I like to help untether the living from those things that hold them back. Humanity- all of humanity- is beautiful and amazing." She speaks with a very real wonder. "And most beautiful of all is the ability to grow. To evolve and change and become more than once was. That is one of the most beautiful things about life, and if I can- in any small way- assist that growth, I'll be overjoyed."
Dead Girl begins to mix ingredients- she's done this thousands of times, obviously, it's all rote action at this point.
"So long as you don't use either a mining or ice-pick, you're welcome to ask me anything, Spiderman." Hank nods, serious then. "Of course depending on what, I reserve the right not to answer. Fair enough?" He waves off the apology. "Pish-Tosh, ask what you wish." Science is HOW he relaxes a lot of the time!
To Cindy, "So Miss Cindy, are you a metahuman of some sort as well? I mean…I'm a mutated mutant, the Spiderman is clearly a mutant or mutate of some sort — and Dead Girl is…I'm not sure what, but she's definitely dead and still ambulatory, which is quite extraordinary." His smile is kind. "And if you're offended or my question is too direct, my most sincere and abject apologies." One fuzzy brow arches. "And why, pray tell, would you apologize for not being a scientist, that would be like me apologizing for not being a soprano instead of a bass - one is what one is. Now, if you're -interested- in science, well, that's another matter and I can suggest all manner of books to get you going." A grin. "And perhaps we can trade science for hockey lessons?"
Hank accepts the coffee and will pour for any who want some, and will also pour himself a tall orange juice, and drain it before he continues. "I'm fairly certain the web guy isn't for trade, however." Wry? Why yes, yes it was! Fascinated by Dead Girl's incredible joie d'vivre, Hank just shakes his head. "I'll have to think long and hard about what to trade. For now, let us enjoy each other's company." This to everyone. "I must say, I'm very glad I came by tonight."
Spider-Man nods and sits down. He tried to collect his thoughts.
"Dr. McCoy…sorry, no jokes intended…almost two years ago, I was bitten by a genetically altered spider. Normally that wouldn't be too much of an issue, but it had recently come into contact with a particle beam of very low frequency, which irradiated it and caused it to expel its DNA into whomever it bit. One hour before that, I was a completely normal, extremely-forgettable person. I don't know exactly what was being done to it, but I was able to pin down a few breeds its DNA had been part of."
He took a long, slow breath. "The thing is…it seems that the changes are still going on. My spatial awareness has grown intensely…buit after the burst, I thought it had gone as far as it could go…but it's still expanding."
Cindy blinks at Hank seems to — inquire? Or call her out? Does he know something? Or is he just being nice? She almost seems to hesitate just a half-second too long, before answering Hank, "I'm just a normal girl, I'm afraid. Nothing too special about me except I can check better than most boys my age." She half-grins at this, but goes quiet after Spider-Man's inquiry gets voiced so seriously.
Suddenly, her casual banter dies out, giving Spider-Man's question it's due respect. That has to be what she's doing, right?
Dead Girl nods, "I don't really know what I am either. But that's okay, that's like most of the population." She assures Hank, apparently quite unbothered by the mystery of her existence.
"How does everyone want their eggs?" Dead Girl wonders next as she heats up the skillet. The waffle batter is almost ready- she shifts between locations with all the skill of a long-time cook. "Cindy, hun, could you get the bacon out of the fridge. The butcher was kind enough to cut it English Style for me!" she notes as she continues to cook. Gas stove is lit and things are starting to be made. "Or, if you'd rather, you can join the conversation. No bother to me, dear!" she assures the young woman with all the love in her voice one might expect from a family member. "And you're beautiful and plenty special." she notes, "You gotta remember what my good friend Fred Rogers used to say, you're beautiful just the way you are and loved for who you are!" AT least around here.
t The smell of breakfast starts to grow in the kitchen. The table there is comfortable, the chairs mismatched but all well loved and cared for. Every one of them is the sort one could just sink into for hours. COmfort, it seems, is important to Dead Girl's concept in The Store. It's the sort of place someone could disappear into for hours if they wanted- and just be.
"No, being a mutate is never a funny thing, Spiderman." Hank's gaze is quite level at this, after all, he's a mutant AND a mutate. He's got a fairly direct frame of reference! "So…if I am understanding your explanation, the spider was itself a hybridized specimen, you're not sure of how man or which breeds, and on top of that it has a progressively invasive DNA matrix that is bonding to and altering your DNA and has been doing so for two years." He raises a hand, with the index finger and thumb forming a sort of lazily leaning L. "AND…the changes are still ongoing? Well." He sips his coffee a moment, pondering. "The good news is that the process is unlikely to be deadly, after years of mutagenesis if you've only been growing stronger, it seems likely that it will continue in a beneficial vein." He looks to Spidey. "Or have you been experiencing negative changes as well? In truth I would very much like to study your DNA and the process, if you're so minded to permit it, but that's extremely invasive stuff, hardly something one asks on first meeting." His gaze sharpens. "Unless that was your goal in asking?"
Hank has a terrible poker face, it is very likely that Cindy might well notice his noting the slightly too long hesitation, but he's not one to press. He smiles. "Of course, apologies then, Miss Cindy if I have given any offense. He's also to much a gentleman to notice the lapse of banter as anything other than polite.
Dead Girl's off hand comment earns her a grateful grin. "Well, Dead Girl, perhaps we should study -your- genetics as well and get you some answers, if you want them? I'd be fascinated to see how your tissues are animate, yet dead, but do not decay." Yes, that's puzzling him. A lot. As to the eggs. "Scrambled well, hint of cheese if you please." Wait, when did he settle on eggs too? Ah well, food! "Fred…you mean Mister Rogers? Goodness. It definitely sounds like the sort of thing he'd have said." Wow. Mister Rogers! Curiouser and curiouser! DG might have acquired a Blue Fuzzy to go with the Web Guy!
Spider-Man sighs. "I suppose I could trust you with it. But if I do, you have to promise that you will handle it yourself. I've got Osborn and OsCorp crawling up my spinnerets for my DNA. Even put a bounty in my head, before the Daily Bugle blew the story. I think Osborn's going to get ousted from his own company."
Spider-Man continues, "So far, it has been. But that is only what I can see and since it's happening to me, I'm not sure I can be objective." He pauses for a moment, then looks to DG. "Nothing ever just turns out all right if you just ignore it and want it to go away."
Cindy frowns, deeply, as Spider-Man bares his secrets out in front of her and the others. Why? Well, she doesn't exactly say, and it could be she just empathisizes with his plight, but she also seems to look rather thoughtful.
It doesn't help that Hank seems to have recognized something from her reaction. But, if she has any sort of secret she doesn't share it. Instead, she quickly grabs a glass of the OJ and starts to drink. Can't talk, if you're drinking, right? Girl seems to have a pretty healthy appetite, too.
"IF you want. I mean, I can give you a tupperware piece of ice and a kidney or something." Dead Girl offers back to Hank. "It'll just grow back, so, it's not like I'm losing out." she remarks. "And, truthfully, I'm not actually using any of that tissue. I mean, dang, you could do an autopsy if you want. Might be a little weird for you, though." Suggesting that Dead Girl is totally down with the idea and wouldn't think it was odd at all. "I don't know much about genetics or science, more of a theater geek." she admits. "Before I was murdered I was an up and comer Off-Broadway!" And still she doesn't seem bothered at all by the fact she was murdered. She's an odd duck.
"Very true, Spider-Man!" Dead Girl agrees as she makes the waffles up, makes a mess of scrambled eggs- Easy and quick. Hank was also the only one who said anything about the eggs.
Somehow, Dead Girl is able to get everything to finish cooking at the exact same time. It's all served together, waffles, eggs, bacon. More than enough for everyone to take as much as they desire. All served 'Family Style'.
Dead Girl then goes to make herself some tea- she opens a cabinet and pulls out what looks like a tied flower. Hot water is poured in a clear mug and the flower-tea is placed in the hot water. She then comes to sit, but not before grabbing something else out of the fridge- a restaurant style caddy for condiments. Syrup is taken from a shelf and it's all on the table now. "Eat up!"
Hank shakes his head. "Of COURSE I would not share your DNA with anyone else, not without your prior and explicit consent, I assure you, sir, I am an ethical scientist not a ne'er-do-well like Mister Osborn." Hank's clearly upset at the suggestion…but then he closes his eyes a moment, and counts backwards or something, offering a somewhat sheepish look. "Forgive me, Spiderman. You don't know me, your concern is not only understandable, it is right. You SHOULD be wary." He ponders. "I confess, it is a conundrum - how can I prove my trustworthiness and how can you dare to trust?"
Hank is pretty on the ball most of the time, he doesn't miss a whole lot, but he's also not one to be a chatterbox. Lack of poker face or not, he -does- know how to keep something in confidence. Definitely hard for a non-ventriloquist to talk while drinking though!
Okay…the utter lack of concern about an autopsy, or the donation of an organ in a tupperware container, yeah, that's a bit odd for Hank. "Well…perhaps you can swing by my lab for some in depth analysis, Dead Girl. Sometime, not after dinner of course." Because that's not a creepy offer at all! He doesn't need to be asked twice, digging into the artfully timed and crafted breakfast for dinner she provides. A brief nod of thanks over the plate, and then Hank digs in with gusto that is unabashedly honest and delighted. A pause after the first bite of waffle. "Oh my, I need the recipe for this, I'll trade five to one!"
Spider-Man nods. "I've read your work. I can smell a snake-oil salesman like a f…uhm, a mile away. I also know that you will do what you say. We can wait until after the meal, though." He lifts up his mask, but only uncovering his lower face to just above the nose. Male, Caucasian, good teeth, but no unusual marks. He takes a bite of the scrambled eggs and nods. "Yes, this is delicious, Deeg."
"Oh recipes are for free, sweety." Dead Girl assures Hank. "Food is always free at The Store. I've also got beds up on the third floor if you need a place to sleep and you can't get back to wherever." Dead Girl says, still smiling as she sits and just watches her tea 'bloom' in the mug. She seems content to watch it. To smell it. To just experience it. Those eyes- Red and Glowing. Ominous and somehow distant in how they sit in her skull- as if Dead Girl herself was very far away and just inhabiting the body of a long dead young woman.
"For what it's worth, Spider-Man, Doctor McCoy isn't being haunted by any vengeful spirits. Usually a good sign." she remarks, her eyes glowing a touch brighter for only a moment. As if those balefires of the underworld came all the closer for just that scant second.
Praise of her cooking always has Dead Girl beaming, "Thank you, though! Don't make me flex my great-aunt cred and pile more food on your plates- go ahead and eat as much as you want! Anything else you want, just let me know." Whatever kind of 'Entity' Dead Girl is, she is apparently warm, loving, and welcoming at least. "Go on, eat up!"