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Summary: Ali chats with her new neighbor - who is secretly EVIL!
Date: April 7, 2009
Log Title Neighboring the Enemy
Rating: PG
NYC - Greenwich Village Apartments (Stairwell)
The stair well is dimly lit with one or two lights flickering that the landlord is too lazy to change. The stairs and banister are all wooden and painted green and the white walls look a bit yellow due to the lights. When you walk up the stairs some make creaking noises. The hallway isn't dirty, just narrow, dim, and creaky.
A nice enough day so far - Alison's morning meeting at Osgood Records went well, she had a great workout at the gym and… Junk mail. Whee. She ditches it in the basket near the mailboxes left for that purpose, then starts on the quick trek up the stairwell. Well, quick for -her- anyway, usually, unless she's trying to navigate with groceries.
There is a small crashing sound, not violent, but a great number of things being shoved up against the glass against the window long enough for a key to unlock the door. Then a struggle and a topple. "Damnit…" comes the baritone voice of one Tanner O'Kane. Small, skinny, and carrying 3 bags of groceries, the 4th on the floor, a trio of milk jugs scatter about. "Just wha I need…" He grumbles in his Irish Brogue.
Well, the sudden mess at the bottom of the stairs pretty much totally impedes Ali's quick dash — she's just not the sort of leapfrog over someone having trouble and go on her merry way. "Hey, lemme help you with that," she offers, and starts scooping up fallen groceries and such and putting them in the dropped bag without even waiting for a 'Yes, please, thank-you' — "I can carry another if you like?"
"Er…no, I got it fine." He says with a grunt. "It's just a few fl…" he pauses in his tracks. Blue eyes sparkling with shock and intelligence for a few moments. He obviously recognizes you from somewhere, and it strikes him as a little speechless. The young man recovers quickly and offers, "Your that Alison Blair." He says with a soft smile. "Saw you on TV the other night…was it Leno?"
Alison wrinkles her nose a little, though she still smiles. "Craig Ferguson, actually. I'm not 'big' enough for Leno yet. And Craig's an old fan - in the ironic sense, but still a fan, and hey. I take 'em where I can get 'em." She rests the grocery bag in the crook of her arm, carrying it easily. "And it's all right - I'll carry this one, at least. I'll be right behind you."
Tanner goes up the stairs with a new found speed. He's not daunted by the stairs at all, well no more than a normal human. He makes it up the stairs without much of a problem and turns quietly to head up another. "I'm on Three…" He pauses and looks back at you. "I'm Tanner, by the way. 305." He notes, crooking a finger in the direction of his apartment just so you know. Obviously, he's a little awkward at conversation.
"Nice t'meet you, Tanner…" though Alison tilts her head a bit. He's familiar, aside from seeing him once or twice in the building. "I'm up on 5," she adds, though she doesn't just spit out the apartment number just yet. "Hey, weren't you in the alley uptown the other day? Did that guy hurt you - you looked a little banged up…"
Tanner gives a nod and pauses only to bow his head a little. "Yeah…was hoping you wouldn't remember." He says in a sort of sort pained voice before he continues up the steps, keeping up a normal pace as to keep the conversation joking. "Isn't my proudest moment, screaming for help and getting roughed up by some crazy fooker, only to be saved, and no offense by this, but by a lass." He snorts a bit. "But nothin' that a couple of bandaids and some neosporin wouldn't fix.
"Glad to hear it," Alison grins. "And no offense taken. I get that… kind of a lot, actually. Mostly from the bad guys I've whipped." Plural, yeah, she's managed more than one. "You didn't happen to get a good look at that guy, did you? Letting him get away has been really bugging me."
Tanner shakes his head. "Just his face…." He offers quietly as he rounds the corner and makes his way to the door, crashing against the wall with bags in order to open it and let you in after him. "Had all those bumps all over him….looked like one of those vampires from Buffy, ya know?" He says as he idly fusses with his keys and starts to open the door to his apartment. "Other than that…taller than me…which isn't hard to do…" He thinks for a few moments, looking down and to the right as he waits. "No…that's it. It happened kind of quick. I was taking a short cut from my doctors office over on Donaldson, and met him comin' around the corner. He made some comment about stupid kids playing heroes, picked me up square off my feet and threw me…" He shrugs a bit and offers quietly. "You wanna come in? It's kind of a mess, but I can make some coffee if you want…"
Alison considers this for a moment, mentally filing away important information, then shrugs. "Sure, I could go for some coffee, thank you." Hey - if she's gonna live in the building, getting to know the neighbors is a good idea!
NYC - Greenwich Village Apartments (Tanner's Apartment)
A small functional studio apartment. There is a small sectioned corner where there is a shower, a sink, a fridge and a toilet that might suggest a kitchen and bathroom combo as are typical in most old cheap buildings from the 40's. The floors are hard wood, but covered in a number of rugs that are mismatched and half torn up. The walls are painted neutral colors, but are covered in posters of various punk bands. There is a couch that faces a small TV, a computer shoved in a corner some where and a small bed set on the floor. The most notable thing one might see are the 10 book cases lining the walls which are over flowing with books of all kinds.
Tanner makes his way into his apartment, which as one might be able to tell is one of the studio models. He makes his way over to the kitchen area and sets his bags down for a few moments before dumping a cup full of brown powder into a machine which he fills with water. While that is working, he idly puts away the 10 or so milk cartons that are currently lining his counter in order to stuff the groceries, which if the perceptive person might note, are all Meat and Dairy. Protein and calcium and that's it. He pulls out a half empty gallon of milk and starts to drink from it, but before long it turns into a chug….a length thirsty one that ends when the milk is completely gone. He takes a relieved sigh and then pauses and looks to you. "Sorry…the meds the doc has me on, make me a little….one sided in my diet."
Alison can't QUITE disguise the mild look of horror on her face at the lineup of groceries, even as she sets the bag she carried in down so he can put it away. "I… yeah, wow. Isn't that really bad for your heart, though? And are you at least taking a fiber supplement, because…" Okay, TMI. But she finishes the statement, gesturing with one hand at the food. "That CAN'T be fun in the bathroom."
Tanner blinks for a moment and there is a moment of realization triggered by something you just said. "Yeah…" he offers, instantly going back into his cherry and flustered mood. "Well, it's like the Atkins. I can't say it's been all roses, but my body craves the stuff, ya know?" He chuckles and moves to take the bag from you, pushing more bottles of milk into the fridge and then closing it to look over at you. "Have a seat." he offers, indicating the worn old couch. "Not often I get to have a celebrity over…"
Alison's expression of mild horror turns into one of worry. The explanation sounds about as thin as Tanner is - and that's pretty damned thin. "Sure," she says, sitting down on the edge of the couch. "What doctor are you seeing, if you don't mind my asking? Have you checked their credentials? That's… a really unconventional dietary regimen to recommend to someone with health problems…"
Tanner laughs a little. "That's a -wee- bit personal." He offers quietly as he takes down some mugs and pulls out an untouched carton of cream and a jar of sugar. He shakes his head. "I'm guessin' the lady Gladys on 4 has been gabbin' yer ear off." He sighs a little as he starts to pour the coffee. "Well….I was born way premature." He states plainly. "Been through more doctors than Killarney has clovers and managed to live this far. Then I start seein' a new one, she gives me a new treatment, and I get to live a normal life." He says looking around. "I've spent 21 years of my life too weak to do -anything- that resembled a normal life. And now I've got one…if that means suckin' lard through a straw three times a day and shovin' a little girl down some stairs just for ritual, I'd do it…but I got it easy. I take supplements, a drink milk and I eat protein….done." He pauses and looks down and then back up at you. "Cream or sugar?"
"Neither, please." Alison likes her coffee black - but she also holds her hands up, "Okay, sorry. It just seems pretty unconventional, is all." And, well, with the life she's had, she knows Unconventional when she sees it. "Sorry to pry. I'm not ALWAYS this nosy."
Tanner pours your cup full of coffee and his about a quarter way before filling the rest with cream and a little sugar. He takes both over to the couch and he sits down. "I'm not offended, most people are askin' me about the change. And I have to say, I've -never- felt this good in my life." He stretches a little and then relaxes into the couch, taking his own coffee to his lips. "So…your a mutant…that's gotta be rough." he offers.
Alison takes the coffee, but doesn't relax from her edge of the couch position. "It's not as bad as it was when I first told the world. There's not equality or anything yet, but there are a lot more mutants than there were then and more of them are less than willing to hide, so. It's rough, but it's been worse."
Tanner gives a nod. "Personally, it doesn't matter to me. I mean. You look at Captain America and the avengers…they are lauded and celebrated for having powers and using them to save the world, but still humanity fails to embrace the genetic difference that it's own brothers and sisters are making. A natural evolutionary step and they look at it like we are still in the dark ages. Hell, mutants helped save the world in this last invasion, and still…they treat you like shite….it's like the Spanish Inquisition never stopped, ya know? Still witch hunts and hate mongering…" He shakes his head a bit.
Alison just lets her coffee cup warm in her hands, but she does nod. "I don't like to make comparisons like that, I prefer to meet fear and distrust with positive examples and responsible living. We're not all Magnetos, but we're not all Avengers either. There are plenty of mutants who just want to live their lives like anyone else, and they should be able to."
Tanner shrugs a little bit. "Not a mutant, so I guess I have the privilege of assumption." he offers as he downs his coffee and goes about standing back up to fill a large glass with the cream and a little coffee and also pulling out a few steaks and starts to go about making himself a sandwich. "Well…anyway." He offers going quiet and awkward as he is up to do in social situations.
"Sorry, I should probably get going. I don't want to interrupt your lunch or anything." Alison stands up finally drinking some of her coffee - about half the cup in one go, from the looks of the swig. "Thanks for the coffee - it was nice to meet you properly, Tanner."
Tanner gives a nod of his head, throwing you an strange smile and a regretful expression glinting in his eyes. "Sorry. Yeah. See you around, Miss Blaire." he offers in a chivalric tone of voice as he steps away from the food to open the door. "Thanks for the help today."
She smiles, then hands him the half-empty cup. "Don't mention it. See you around!" Alison gives him a little wave, then heads on out and up the next couple flights of stairs.
Tanner takes the cup and thinks for a few moments and then waits to know that Alison is gone before trucking down stairs to pull out a little of the junk mail she dumped in the stairwell.
Nothing exciting in Ali's junk - the same old coupon books, takeout fliers, and Pennysaver-type stuff that everyone else gets. But her apartment number is there - 501.
Tanner lets a slow grin spread on his lips as he taps the letter against his hand, tossing the mail back into the bin and then climbing the stairs.
