2012-01-21: A Chance Encounter In Mutant Town


Dashenka_icon.jpg Taylor_icon.jpg

Summary: Dashenka meets Taylor in Mutantown for the second time.

Date: January 1, 2012

Log Title: A Chance Encounter In Mutanttown

Rating: PG


Mutant Town, also known as District X, has become a haven for mutants. This section of town doesn't care what you look like, accepting all mutants no matter what their appearance. Most of the businesses in this section of town are mutant run ranging from small convenience stores to clothing shops to restaurants to night clubs. The buildings here aren't the high rise buildings you might find in mid-town but most are about 5-6 stories high. Mutant Town might not be the most luxurious section of town, in fact it's fairly run down, but this section of where mutants are safe and welcomed regardless of race, religion and culture.

Taylor has a few shopping bags in arm this Saturday afternoon, having come down to the city to pick up even more outfits. Soon, a full wardrobe will be assembled. The felinoid teen seems to be presently wearing a gothy looking dress, with metal chains coming out of it, cut rather short, which is perhaps an unusual choice for the outdoors at this time of year. But then, fur tends to help a little bit.

There's something of a loud rumble coming from down the street as a vintage 1970 GTO rounds the corner. While about half of the car is what's left of it's original cherry red color, the other panels seem to have been salvaged from other cars of it's ilk, giving it a very frankenstien kind of look. This, clearly, has been somebody's project car, and even though it looks a mess, the engine sounds to be running smoothly. It does, however, have an obvious flaw. When it pulls up to the auto shop, and the driver turns off the car, the engine sputters along for a good minute before finally dying. Dashenka gets out of the car, scowling at it. "Nado budet ispravit' pozzhe." she says under her breath.

Taylor watches as the vehicle approaches, eyes slightly wide at the strange mismatched look. The teen seems just about to continue going until there is a look of recognition. The felinoid approaches Dashenka and says, "What's wrong with it? And, uh, hello again. Da- uh, Dasheka was it?"

"Is tuning," explains the large girl. "Perhaps fuel injection." She shrugs, and turns to the young mutant and smiles when she realizes it's somebody she recognizes. "Ah! Privyet, Taylor! What brings you out in this cold?" Dashenka, herself, isn't dressed much more warmly than the teen she's talking to. A simple pair of overalls over a t-shirt all underneath her old army coat.

Taylor nods at Dashenka with a bit of a blank expression, the look of understanding absent from the teen's eyes when she explains. "Well, I'm out here shopping today," says Tay, answering the question, "My fur's actually pretty warm out here, so it can actually get too hot if I wear a jacket, but I've got one in the bags. Are you getting repairs or something here?"

Dashenka nods. "Da. Still have much work to do, but most of hard work done." She pats the hood of the car affectionately, "She runs. Still rough, though." At the mention of fur the large mutant nods. "Da. Even though not bear now, bear things carry over. Comfortable when cold. Desire to eat seal. Da?" Judging by a brilliant grin she can only be joking about that last one.

Taylor laughs at the joke and says, "I'd probably be down for some seal, though I've never had it before." The felinoid headtilts and then peers at the vehicle, "I'm guessing you did a lot of work on that yourself? That seems like a pretty big project!"

"I have not had seal either," admits Dashenka. "Probably tastes like pork." She shakes her head and then all but glows in pride. "Da! Could not recognize as car when I first bought it. Have been working on it for over year, now. Have little money, so repairs are slow."

Taylor nods at Dashenka and smiles, "Well, looks like you've done a lot of work on it. I know nothing about cars. I'm more into, I dunno, sewing I guess? Usually for dolls. Which isn't real practical. But I'm impressed that you have something like that running."

Dashenka pats the hood of the car again, "Spasibo. I have done sewing before," she admits. "Am no good at it. Fingers too big. Can patch holes or fix tears, but nothing more." She shakes her head. "Do not discount such skill. Dolls do not dress themselves, and Americans will pay for anything."

Taylor chuckles and says, "I have to get used to my fingers being different, but I still can do the same stuff as before, just a little slower. But you're right, we'll pay for pretty well anything…"

Dashenka laughs heartily. "When I am bear, I cannot button buttons. Is good I can switch between them, da?" She shakes her head. "Anyway. Must go get parts."

Taylor laughs and says, "Aw, I would hate not to be able to button buttons! It's a little harder now, my fingers are all weird!" The felinoid headtilts when Dashenka says she's going to get parts and then nods, "Oh, yeah, don't let me keep you."

"Indeed!" says the Russian. "I will be seeing you around." And with that Dashenka disappears into the auto shop.

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