Summary:After a certain Goth called for aid while drenched in monster-gore, Scandal and Eve wind up sharing a few more details than before about their unconventional abilities. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
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So, eventually, Scandal and Eve wind up back at Eve's place, where she can shower. She does. It takes her a while. That's a lot of gore to get out off her. Truth is, of course, she's just digesting it in there and she doesn't really need Scandal to see that. Absorbing monster viscera is a bit of a process and it's not a pleasent one.
Once it's all broken down, she does actually shower, and emerges from the bathroom in an adorable black robe covered in tiny pink skulls and crossbones because of course she is.
Scandal is well aware of the difficulties of getting other people's innards off one's own outer parts… and thus - thankfully - entertains no suspicions at all as to quite what Eve might *really* be doing with the gore in which she was drenched.
When Eve emerges, she finds that her guest has made herself at home so far as to get herself a glass of water and put the kettle on to boil, but hasn't gone so far as to actually steal any of her hostess's supplies. Upon seeing the Gothic robe, the former mercenary snorts softly and raises her drink in wry toast. "You look somewhat happier."
"I will need to thoroughly scrub my bathrub later," says Eve. She won't, actually. Biological matter is nummy!
She drops bonelessly on to the sofa and proceeds to put her hands together behind her head. "So, anyway! Thanks for that. I was kinda in a jam," and not covered by jam. Defijnitely blood.
Chuckling softly, Scandal shakes her head. "I'm glad that none of it seemed to be yours," she says dryly. "Though I can't help but wonder if you're in the habit of winding up in that kind of situation. I knew that you had… *talents* of some sort, but… not that you ever wound up drenched in gore in a dark tunnel."
"I mean, it's been known to happen. Sometimes, I hunt monsters. It's a side gig," says Eve, casually, putting her hands on her knees and leaning forward.
Scandal arches a brow, then grins. "Most New Yorkers have side-gigs delivering pizza or tending bar or something of the sort. Yours sounds even worse-paid, but rather more interesting."
"…well, I mean, it does pay the bills except for the part where I don't really get paid much," says Eve with amusmenet, "Hey, hunting monsters isn't what it used to be with all the supers around, right?" She wiggles her fingers, teasing.
Laughing, Scandal shakes her head. "You used to get paid for it? And you… remember a time before there were many supers around?", she asks, somewhat cautiously.
"No, I was making a joke. I'm not THAT old, Scandal," she says with a snort. "I mean, goths tend to keep the young look, but…"
Scandal shrugs gently, chuckling softly. "I'm a little older than I look, myself," she says quietly. "So I wouldn't put it beyond the bounds of credibility."
"No, I get that. It wasn't really a comment about my age is all. I'm definitely a little older than you'd think, but what can I say? I have good genetics." Elder space monster genetics. She puts her hands together behind her head. "But more seriously, I know you wanna know what I'm really up to most of the time." She looks amused, allowing a flower to seemingly sprout, wioth a trickle of blood, from the palm of her hand. "She plucks it and proceeds to hold the lovely orchid out to her.
Scandal's brows arch, and she peers quizzically at the flower for a few moments before leaning forward to delicately accept it. "That… is rather impressive," she murmurs, cocking her head a little to one side as she tries to determine whether it's a naturally-occurring species or something *else*. Not that botany is one of her core capabilities, but the decades have exposed her to an assortment of interesting flora.
It's certainly one that LOOKS natural.
"Hey, I'm an award winning gardener. I cheat. Shamelessly." Eve holds her fingers up to her lips.
Scandal - a little cautiously - brings it close to her nose, to take a tentative sample of its aroma. "You are? Heh. I can imagine," she murmurs. "And… I am afraid that none of my own talents lend themselves to anything quite so lovely. I fear that the most *creative* I might get is in cracking code. Certainly nothing of… tangible beauty, like this."
"Yeah, well. Sometimes it gets a little thorny too," Eve remarks, dryly. "I'm not smart enough to crack codes. You *definitely* have the edge here," she adds.
"Live long enough, and you're likely to find that you pick up skills you couldn't even have *imagined* early in your life," Scandal says dryly - lifting her gaze from the flower to Eve. "And… thorns, huh? Is that how you fight?"
No. "Yes," she answers. "Sometimes, I guess. I'm pretty strong so it's not really needed and thorns poking through my skin DOES hurt." It does help, but it's not really how she does it… but Scandal doesn't need to know that just yet.
Scandal nods pensively… not volunteering details on any of her own combative abilities, as yet. "I'd imagine that it would be rather decidedly uncomfortable, yes. But… how did a horticulturist - even one who cheats! - get into monster-hunting at all?"
"… I'm good at it? Comes with the territory, really, I guess. And besides, someone has to do it. It's not fun, and I'm durable." She gives her shoulders a shrug.
Laughing quietly, Scandal inclines her head again. "Ah, *durability*. Yes, people can come to rely on that a great deal." Her lips quirk into a wryly rueful smile. "And are you good at, ahh, putting yourself back together again after trouble? Or is that not required?"
"Yeaaaah, I guess," says Eve, shrugging, "I mean, I can make plants grow out of me so I can patch myself okay if I have to." She doesn't look like she has anything wrong with her at all. Not a thing, really.
Scandal winces, face crumpling for a moment, before she cocks her head. "And… you can… stitch yourself together with those plants? Fascinating. And rather uncomfortable to even think about!"
"…yeah, something like that," muses Eve, shaking her head. "It's a bit uncomfortable. I mean, it's not THAT bad." She can just turn off her nerves after all if she has to. "Don't ask me to demonstrate."
Scandal quickly shakes her head. "I won't. I don't promise to wholly restrain my curiosity should I ever *see* you injured… but I certainly won't ask for a redundant demonstration. Injury, for most of us, is far from pleasant."
"Yeah, well, I appreciate that," says Eve, laughing. "Would you like some tea? Or coffee? Or anything else?" she asks, curiously.
"Coffee would be welcome," Scandal says warmly - then half-raises her glass of water. "I didn't want to presume…"
"Coffee it is, then," and then Eve goes to get just that. Coffee. She has an expensive coffee maker.