Summary:The homeless and their allies in Mutant Town stage a fundraiser, using donated supplies to make freshly baked Russian pastries and other treats and sell them out of the food kitchen with all proceeds going to support the local medical clinic. A few of the area's Russian expatriates make appearances to support the good cause. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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Word has spread far wider than it should, really. It seems that one of the food kitchens in Mutant Town has turned over their kitchen facilities for the afternoon to a 'consortium of interested locals' - seriously, that's how it's been worded, and that's not suspicious at all - who are producing an array of supposedly genuine traditional Russian pastries. Rumor has it that this is a fundraising effort for the local medical clinic. Somehow a flier for this even ended up on one of the bulletin boards around the Institute, though no one is quite sure who put it up there.
What a few potential customers initially found a bit off-putting is catching sight of the workers involved: it seems a collection of the local homeless have been cleaned up thoroughly - can't let the Health Inspectors shut them down! - and are now working hard in the kitchen, while others are meeting and greeting customers, getting them seats, etc.
There are even some who are out on the streets, or the rooftops, keeping an eye on things. Because where it's the homeless in Mutant Town, it's the Pride. And the Pride protects Mutant Town.
There are very few Russian shops that cater to the native population, to be honest. And it has not been that long since Piotr arrived in America - though the side trip to Limbo stretched that out. The well over seven foot tall and muscular man with the Slavic looks and dark hair is hard to miss as he ducks slightly as he enters the food kitchen. Not to look for free food. But he is carrying a large metal pan of stroganoff to add to the meal. Restaurant sized pans, at that, he carries four. Two on each arm with relative ease.
"I was told there was help needed here. I have brought food for kitchen. And am willing to help with cleaning or painting. I am an artist." A known fact, he's the art teacher at Xavier's, and works mainly in stone and metal, though he paints as well.
As this is a place that she hangs out in a fair amount of the time, Laynia, also being Russian, is in on the bakery sale for the clinic. Her contribution is a half dozen Vatrsushka! This is a traditional Russian (and a few other places) dessert pie made with tyvorog (farmer's) cheese and sour cream, and sweetened to taste. Vanilla too. Hers also have craisins, because why not? She likes craisins, and as she has been baking at home for the last two days she's going to add some tart to the sweet.
She pulls up in black and yellow Cooper Mini from a while back, and is dressed for the chill outside in a heavy white sweater, and snug white pants tucked into kneeboots which are also white.
Cinnamon eyes are warm as she sees that people at work, and then circles around the car to open the hatchback and take out the string bound boxes, two bundles of three, and heads for the event with a lively bounce to her steps. As she turns away, hands full, eyes darken to black as she creates a Darkforce tendril and uses it to close the hatch behind her.
When the massive Russian man enters, a couple of the larger homeless men move forward, happy to take the full and heavy pans off his hands … or out of his arms. "Welcome, stranger." they offer, though sadly they do so in english with no sign amongst them of a Russian accent.
More is the pity.
The pans are taken into the kitchen, and arrangements are made to keep them and their contents warm, while bowls that were not going to be used are fetched from storage for serving, as a lavender-skinned young woman comes out from the back and works to change the chalkboard signage to include the stroganoff.
When Laynia arrives at the back door to the kitchen a few of the others step forward to help her with her burdens, all welcoming her as Darkstar. She is quickly ushered inside, and the coat-rack indicated. The kitchen is quite warm, not at all chilled, and likely to make one uncomfortable dressed in all that.
Familiar with those who work the kitchens normally for the Pride, Laynia will see many she recognizes, but also a few she does not. Two of these turn out to be a pair of 'sisters' (not really) who actually run a bakery nearby. One of them turns out to be a displaced native of Russia, previously a resident in Brighton Beach and now living with her fellow baker in Mutant Town. They seem to have been the organizers of today's event.
"Please, Sir. Make yourself comfortable. Have a look over our selection, and let us know if we can get you anything." One of the better-spoken homeless gentlemen offers to Piotr. This older man is a bit stooped and well-worn, an African-American man who moves stiffly but with an air of trusted calm and authority amongst the others. "You can call me Weather, Sir."
"I'm not wanting to sit.. I just want to assist." Piotr is quick to say. "I am here to help." he offers, with a small chuckle. The Russian accent is thick with him. And he was about to say more, when someone mentions the name 'Darkstar'. Imediately the Russian's head snaps up and he's looking over the crowd to find the Russian blonde. "Pardon me." he offers, before stepping away to make his way to her.
"You are Darkstar." he offers in way of introduction. Such as it is. "I was told by my partner that you could help me locate my sister. She is missing." Okay, so he's a little too much to the point, however, after a moment, he remembers to back up. "I am Piotr Rasputin. My partner is Keiko Kurita." As if that will help explain things. "My sister is Illyana Rasputin."
Other things are forgotten for the moment, because Piotr's a bit single-minded on finding his once again lost sister. "You could travel to Limbo."
Laynia is only too happy to remove the heavy woolen sweater, and under it she is wearing a simple Amber t-shirt. A moment to survey the psuedo-organized chaos and then she procures an apron. Of course before she can don it, she is being borne down upon by a massive and very muscular fellow with a metal arm.
Darkstar blinks up at the man mountain. "I am Darkstar." She agrees, her own accent Muskovite, and not 'thick' exactly, but definitely noticeable. She listens with a furrowed brow until he mentions his partner's name. "Ah! Okay then, I know Keiko from work."
At the additional namings, she laughs. "And I have met your older brother, I think, Piotr Rasputin."
The last bit, however, that is something that has her puzzled a moment. "Well, I can travel to the Darkforce dimension…is there a connection to this 'Limbo' there?"
She looks to Weather, nodding to the man with deep respect, and offering a smile to let him and the rest of the Pride folks here that she is not in danger.
She thinks.
The staffers are still a bit wary of the unknown Piotr, but Laynia's nodded reassurance sets them more at ease than they were. A tiny red dot winks out of existence.
Weather smiles gently towards Laynia and returns her nod of acknowledgement.
Around the two and their strange discussions of other dimensions, the active, barely-constrained chaos of the very active kitchen continues as the event pushes on. Folks come in to visit, make their orders, and are swiftly served freshly-baked Russian pastries of multiple varieties. Some even ask for some of the strogonoff, which is served in the recently retrieved bowls. All of the monies given are gathered into the cash box for their eventual donation to the medical clinic.
The metal arm is almost medevial in the organic steel it's wrapped in. The demonic warping of the metal shows in the decoration, while the other arm is covered in a large tattoo of a Russian wolfhound that winds up his arm. There is a glance over to make sure all is going well with the donations and food service, before Piotr's attention returns to the youngish looking blonde.
"I am not sure. But Keiko was convinced that you could have a connection. Or to seek out what has been warping the paths between dimensions. I am not very smart on this stuff." he admits with a small frown and shake of his head. "She and Koa.." trailing off, Piotr tries to shake off that feeling that he has on that. "…they are better at knowing this stuff. More closely attached to my sister. I do not have the same bond."
Darkstar looks concerned. "I do not like the idea of this warping you speak of, and I did recently meet someone very unpleasant in the Darkforce dimension whilst in the company of Koa and Keiko." Laynia sighs very softly. "So…I will need to go there, and see what I can can sense, if anything."
Considering her chronological age of some seventy-two years, the woman looks very spry indeed, no more than her late twenties to early thirties. "So…how long has Illyana been missing? Do you have reason to suspect foul play?"
She moves them off to one side so they don't interfere with the bake sale, and the winking out of that red dot was very reassuring to her. Hunter is VERY good at what she does, it is a mystery to Laynia when the woman rests, because the time of day or night doesn't seem to matter…her vigilance is never ending.
To Weather and the others it is plain that the discussion is not a good one, not by the level of seriousness to their expressions.
When Laynia makes the move to tuck herself and the large metal-armed Russian man in an out of the way corner, the staff working in the kitchen very carefully rearrange themselves so that none of them are entering that area. Darkstar doesn't even have to ask, her body language is enough for them to know what she needs and do it without question.
The service continues as well, doing a reasonably brisk business. That everything is being served fresh and hot seems to be a big draw, both to those of Mutant Town and to some who do not seem outwardly to be from the community.
Even so, after ten minutes or so a disruption comes amongst those outside the kitchen, as a lull seems to come over the service. Laynia would almost assuredly spot a handsign from one of those in the kitchen after glancing out into the serving space, whether or not she spots the well-worn and threadbare figure of an outwardly unassuming woman in military surplus attire coming inside. Something about her seems to precede her arrival, and others seem to naturally flow away from her, like water being repelled.
"Over a month." Piotr responds. "And while time moves different in Limbo…" he considers, and then adds. "Koa and Keiko have seen her. Recently. Fighting whatever.. machine.. is affecting Limbo." he growls a little at that. "I have no influence in this. But I want to assist if I can." the large man glances at his arm. "If something were to happen to my sister, Limbo falls to me." he explains.
That's when they get winked and moved. And while it is chilly, the large Russian seems to be used to the cold. He grew up in it. Was molded by it.. etc etc. However. As the pair of them are talking, and the silence starts in the building, Piotr slows in his conversation and turns, swivelling away from Laynia to find the source of it.
The cold doesn't Laynia too much either, but she's directly tied to a dimension of chill and madness, so that might have some bearing here. Even before the fatigues clad woman arrives, Darkstar is looking towards that disruption. The predatory air that precedes her is one that the Darkstar has felt before.
"Over a month? Bozhe moi, that is not very good. Especially with how dimensions can do weird time things."
Again she frowns. "A machine. So, that gives me something to look for." Laynia definitely notices when the others give her and Piotr a little privacy pocket even in the bustling kitchen. That Hunter has put in an appearance however, that is concerning. When Piotr turns, she grips his tattooed arm a moment. "Carefully, Piotr Rasputin."
It seems none of the volunteers are willing to approach this fatigues-clad woman, and most seem naturally compelled to move away from her presence. None openly flee, and none who actually notice her actually ever look away. They just naturally recede before her. Eventually, however, the older African American gentleman from earlier moves forward, visibly squaring his shoulders as he does so, offering a gentle nod when he is close. He also speaks exceptionally softly; it would be incredibly difficult if not impossible for another to overhear whatever he says to her.
The warmth of the kitchen has not abated, but it is true that without the press of bodies in their corner, it may be less noticeable than it was earlier for Piotr and Laynia.
After a few long moments of conversation from Weather, the fatigues-clad woman glances up, her eyes in shadow beneath the bill of her cap, a curious little flash of amber-backed green hue from there as her head turns towards the doorway into the kitchen.
"I have something to fear?" comes Piotr's response, a raise of his brow at Laynia. "I had no issue with her. I assume that she is here to assist." he turns his blue eyes back to the keeper of the Darkforce. "As I planned to do since we are done for the moment." There's a resoluteness to him, firm and strong. He has no want to be an issue. Just to quietly work and help. Or leave if it would be better.
His discussion seems to be done for the moment now that he has given Laynia what information he could on his missing sister and who to contact next. "If you plan to travel to Limbo. I will come with you. Help protect you if I must."
"Da, gozpodhin, she is here to help. She is the protector of the homeless here in Mutant Town, I do no think she is here to cook or serve, however." Laynia does not have have the senses to make out any of what is being said, and then whispers very softly indeed. ~He is a friend, brother to Mikhail, whom you have met.~
You know, in case Okhotnik - 'Hunter' - is concerned about her safety. She smiles up the hulking fellow, and nods. "I will go to the Darkforce first, then track down the warped path to the Limbo, when I go there of course I will take you with, Piotr Rasputin." She takes a small notebook out of her back packet, and jots down her name and contact information for Piotr, tearing the page out and offering it to him. She waits, pen poised and brow quirked expectantly for him to do the same.
She waits to see what Hunter does before she takes any further action.
Those softly glowing eyes flick slightly to the side, carefully considering the metal-armed man beside Laynia. The Hunter heard the name, of course. But she can smell the unnatural, and anything that smells of a Hell-dimension earns her immediate attention. The Creature smelled like that, and it nearly consumed the child. She will never be so cavalier about a threat like that again.
With Laynia's reassurances Hunter rolls a shoulder, easing the tension there, and turns slightly back towards Weather, offering a few words. She then sweeps her gaze over the serving space, walks to the counter, and pulls a wad of something out of the pocket of her voluminous jacket. This she deposits in a basket on the counter, then turns and walks back out into the streets.
Only once she is gone do most of the people inside take their first real breath in a while.
Weather too gives everyone in the serving area a moment of eye contact, and then he heads for the kitchens. "I beg your pardon, Miss Darkstar. I trust all is well? Do either of you need anything?" he asks politely. Around the kitchen, everyone slowly seems to shake off the panicked frozen state and resume their work, almost as if nothing had happened.
But it did. Didn't it?
Realizing that he may be causig some discomfort here, Piotr raises his brow in thought. Then he draws in a breath, letting his shoulders droop slightly. "Thank you." he finally offers to Laynia. And then he moves to walk out from the center, his lips pulled into a thin line of thought and he gives one last look to the center, and the blonde woman. A firm nod is offered to her commitment before he turns to leave finally.
A smile as Hunter relaxes a bit, and then departs once more. ~Thank you.~ That same very soft whisper, she's absolutely certain that the departing woman - also a blonde as it happens, will hear.
"Da, Weather, all is well, in truth I think what we need is good honest work, to benefit good honest people." She will incline her head to Piotr a she starts to depart, but will once again grip his flesh & blood arm. "You are most welcome, and I promise, we will find your sister." And then she smiles up to the man. "But…do not go, there is work to be done. And we Russians are used to work, yes? Come, I will introduce you to the kitchen staff and we will see what we can do, mm?" If he agrees, Laynia will make good on her word, and do just as she promised.
Though inside her there is a darkness, a cold anger about someone -daring- to muck about with the Darkforce. Again. Oh yes, there will be a reckoning. Without a doubt, there will.