2019.12.18: Bikes, Guns & Revelations
|18th December 2019: Bikes, Guns & Revelations|
|Her first day helping Bobbi with at Angel Restorations turns to a sleepover with secrets being revealed and guns being fired.|
|IC Date||December 18th, 2019|
|IC Time||Day & Night|
At the designated time and place, Bobbi is waiting in the lot outside Angel Restorations, standing with her cane. She smiles, "Glad you made it, I appreciate the help." Turning aroun she begins to walk towards the garage, pointing things out along the way. "That's Emerson's, that's my other bar. I go to Styx when I want to be rowdy, I got to Emerson's when I want to talk or ignore the world. Up above the garage is my loft, I live there and have my studio in there." The button is pressed and the garage door goes up, revealing a very modern bike shop. "Got a few bikes to work on, different levels of priority. I figure though with our knowledge will quickly figure out a working pattern. I figure I'll probably concentrate on the welding and you can handle the other bits. Generally before welding we got to take a bunch off the bikes, weld, then put them back together better than before. If you want me to give you any welding pointers as I go, let me know. If I micromanage you or seem concerned, just remind me that I'm talking to a woman, not a man, and I have no reason to be concerned."
She walks into the garage and begins to tie up her dreadlocks, not some messy style, very careful. The last thing you want while welding is for a bunch of dreadlocks to get in your way. Once the hair is secure she places the welding apron on, then the welding mask, though the mask is flipped up for now so she can see. She hands you a pair of work gloves and puts on a pair of her own. Pointing to a metal set of drawers, she notes, "Pretty much every tool you can imagine is in there. If you can't find something, ask me. If you can't figure out where to put something back, ask me. Any specific questions about setup, process, stuff like that?" After pausing a beat she adds, "Thank you again, by the way, you're very sweet" and so is her smile.
Like a tourist in a new city, Roxy walks along with her clear blue eyes all wide and interested in the various places pointed out. "I've been in there, too.", she mentions about Emerson's, "I met two people who didn't speak kindly of the Styx and their bikers. Misogynistic, they said, as if you'd expect anything better from that type.". A look up above the garage at the loft, then into the garage itself, nodding with appreciation at the sight, "Now this, I like.", being cheeky and moving over to peek in drawers and tool chests, look at what might be on the wall shelving. "Very nice.".
Reaching briefly into her slingbag, she pulls out a hair tie, copying you but no doubt already planned beforehand, her long black pulled back and secured into a ponytail. Her slingbag she then places nearby, somewhere safe and out of the way. "No questions from me, just point me where you need me and tell me what needs to be done.", her own smile appearing at the end comment, reaching over to give a playful push against your arm, trying to nudge you off balance, "Yeah, whatever.".
Bobbi gives a slight shrug, "Yeah, everyone wants everything to be all-inclusive, but sometimes certain groups need their own spaces. You just got to respect that and they'll respect you. It took a moment to make everyone there understand that I was neither going to take their shit nor throw a fuck their way. After that we came to an understanding, and it's been more like a sibling relationship. Works for me. I grew up with eight brothers plus, so that's a mentality I can understand." She hmmms, "I wonder who that was you met. Most of the time I'm at Emerson's it's empty except for old timers."
Bobbi picks up a clipboard and starts going through a few sheets of paper. "Alright, I got three bikes to take care of today. I guess on the first one we can work together on the disassembly, then once that's done I'll start on the welding for that while you start on the next two, and then we'll see where we are after that. Does that sound good to you?" She makes her way to one bike, takes down the kickstand, and slowly moves it to a more convenient place. Her movement seem a bit hesitant, clearly she's done this before, but it almost seems like she's a little uncomfortable with this part of the process. Once in position, the kickstand is put back down. She looks to you and smiles.
"I think most people don't have the.. uh.." Roxy starts, following you around like a puppy, as she's not sure what she should be doing right now, ".. the.. what do you call it? Like, the ability to handle their shit and give back so they know you're on the same standing.". Pushing her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket, she ponders the word for a moment, if there even is a word she's searching for, her fingers moving around inside the pockets until she realises what they're playing with. "Oh! You should have one of these too.", pulling out a small white business card, plain except for a fancy gold embossed writing that reads, 'Roxanna Keys', a cellphone number beneath. "If you ever need a doctor, no questions asked.", she nods, offering the card.
Following again, she nods at the required work, "Are we stripping them right down to their parts and rebuilding?". Noticing the discomfort, she moves in to assist with the movement of the bike. It's a natural thing, she doesn't even think about it, she obviously doesn't think you're incapable, she's just helping. "There's nothing quite like it, stripping them down, giving them a good clean and oil bath and piecing it back together again. The worlds best jigsaw puzzle.", she smiles.
"Empathy maybe?" Bobbi offers. "Confidence in their own identity? All that and more." Bobbi takes the offered business card and looks it over. She's thorough, maybe even taking the time to memorize it. Looking at the typography and layout. After a while she puts the card in her pocket. "Roxanna Keys," she says. "But you prefer Roxy, right? I've spent a lot of time around doctors the past few years due to the leg. Finding a good doctor can be tough, but important. Good to know." She then looks at you and raises an eyebrow, "So ... healing, huh?" There seems to be some implication in this.
Bobbi nods, "Yeah, I mean, not completely necessary to do a complete breakdown, but I do. I need to get at least some bits off in be able to properly weld. I feel by breaking them all the way down and building them up, I fix a bunch of a minor flaws. Little things that were off like 1/16th of an inch. Nothing you'd obviously notice, but that would still impact how the bike rides. It makes it so the bikes come back to them better than they arrived, even if the requested modification was only cosmetic. Part of what keeps them coming back, plus it's not too big a deal and it's good to have pride in your work, right? How did you learn about bikes?" Then she looks back into the garage and says, "Oh, what kind of music do you want while we work? There'sa bunch of different tapes and CDs, or there's always the radio."
"Confidence?" Roxy nods, "That's probably what I meant. But there's the empathy too. It's easy to back down from a six foot six hairy biker who you know has a weapon in his jacket and probably doesn't need it, but if you know how to deal with it.. Anyway!", waving that off. "Roxy, please. Only my mother used to call me Roxanna. Every time I hear it, it sounds like someone is about to complain about something I've done.", she chuckles. Hearing about the leg, she asks, "What happened? Bike accident, or something else? Yeah, healing. Call it a natural talent.", she smiles, sensing that tone in your voice.
Once the bike is settled into position, she grabs a toolbox and places it down near beside the bike, then sits herself down on the floor, crossing her legs in an indian style. "I've always had a wild streak..", she tells you, reaching into the box for a socket wrench, picking out the correct size so she can start taking the wheels off, ".. which my parents /hated/. They wanted their darling daughter to become a rich doctor with a wonderful reputation, while I was spending all the money I was making on bikes, beer, drugs and rock concerts.", she chuckles. "I guess I've always had a rebellious side. I did enjoy being a doctor though, it was stupid the way I lost my license.". At the mention of music, she glances up, "You choose, let me hear what you usually listen to." she smiles.
Bobbi laughs, "I know exactly what you mean." She looks around, "I don't volunteer this to anyone, so don't spread the word, but Bobbi's not my birth name. That's all I'll say there though, the rest is a secret I'm taking to the grave." She hmmms slightly, pausing in the bike work as she thinks of how to phrase something. "I feel like I'm going to tell you all my secrets and we just met. Someone ran me down with a car. I usually simplify it to car accident." She shakes the thoughts out of her head and goes back to the bike. "Yeah, natural talent," she says quietly.
"As I said before, I grew up with eight brother and a dad, so that's how I got into all this girly stuff," Bobbi says, noting the gearhead and welding, and whatever else it is she might be into. "My hippie side is more of my rebellion. Though that also just sort of came naturally from growing up on the edge of a national forest. Bikes, beer, drugs, rock concerts? Those were almost encouraged. How did you lose your license?" She looks over to you, a bit uncertain if that's an appropriate question, and quickly follows up with another. "You sure you want me to pick? If I pick it's likely going to be Psytrance or Girl Groups depending on which I find first. Not everyone's cup of tea."
"I know what you mean.." Roxy admits, ".. it's like you're the best friend I never knew I had.", she chuckles, then realises how that might sound and there's a faint flush of red on her cheeks. The back wheel is gently removed, the chain curled up perfectly so it doesn't scratch anything else or get in the way. With a little wriggle, she moves enough to start on the front wheel. "Natural talent. It feels like it, repairing bikes, fixing people, it's like it's in my blood.".
"I'm an only child, which only irritates my parents even more. They're rich, if you hadn't guessed. Well, my father is, he's a surgeon, my mother is just a leech, living off his earnings.", there doesn't seem to be any hate in her tone, but neither is there any real love for the woman. "When you start learning about medicine and doctoring, they don't tell you the hours you'll have to work. I was exhausted, every day it was painful, like, that tired where your head is spinning and you feel like you're just going to stop. So I.. borrowed a few medicinals from the hospital pharmacy on occasion and got caught. I mean, one night I had to take an extended break because I was so wasted I couldn't even find a patients vein for their injections.".
"I'm clean now though.". A look up and she smiles, "I don't mind a bit of trance, but if you go near a girl group then I'm out of here.", she grins.
Bobbi smiles at you, "Yeah, I'm really glad we met. Thanks again for your offer to help. You would have thought that Dawson would have thought to introduce us sooner, right?" She shuffles over toward a boombox, "So when did you figure out that you had ... such a natural talent?" Bobbi shuffles through some tapes until she finds whatever is she was looking for. She pops it in and presses play and outcomes the sounds of Progressive Psytrance.
"Yeah, my family was poor as shit, and my mom's long gone. Since I was real little. They're not rednecks exactly, just kind of blue collar and rural. I was the first in my family to go to college. I thought I might do something other than work on bikes my whole life, but ... hear I am. I don't mind it, I mean, I like it. It's just such a part of my life growing up that I figured I would try something new." Helping you with the bike, she looks over and studies you for a moment. "It's good you're clean. Congratulations. Drugs can be debilitating." You get the impression she knows the intimately, maybe it's even something effecting her life currently. Drug users tend to recognize drug users.
"I haven't really known him that long.." Roxy explains, ".. a few days, but we've only properly talked twice maybe..?", a tilt of her head, gazing off into space as she thinks about it, "More like once. He's nice enough, but I get the feeling there's something else to him that he keeps quiet.", her eyes refocusing, looking at the bike and continuing her work. The front wheel comes off, then she starts stripping it down one bolt at a time. "I don't know really..", she replies about the talent, ".. I remember one time, I ran over our stupid cat. I wrapped up his broken leg and padded the blood from the scratches. He was walking around like nothing happened in a day or two." she smiles.
"I think I should have been raised by a poor family, I've always felt more comfortable with bikers and street types, my parents kept trying to teach me etiquette and how to use the right forks and spoons, and I'd end up using my fingers.", she chuckles. "The drugs were a side effect of that, I suppose. You get into the wrong crowds as a teenager.. well, I mean, it was the right crowd, but I lacked the will to say no. Hallucinogens were fun, so many colours, but a bad trip can really mess up your day.", a shake of her head. "What's with the welding? Is that how you make your art as well?"
"Yeah ... there's definitely more to him than I know of, but at least I don't think it's anything terrible. At least it seems like he wasn't hiding us from each other. I suppose in his line of work, it's bad to trust anyone with all of your secrets." She shakes her head, "Where were you when I fucked up my leg?" The revelation doesn't seem to surprise her, it's like, of course something like that is possible.
"Poor, rich, I don't think any of that is as important as whether or not they are loving and caring, but still ... there is a difference. At the same time, it sounds like we went down pretty similar paths. I tend to eat with my hands as well. I think that's less from my family and more from being a hippie. It's good to have an intimate relationship with your food, though. Most people don't think about the things they put into their body."
She pauses as a few things connect, "Well, I at least think about the food I put into my body. Yeah, I started welding when I was eight years old. Under supervision of course, and just little things that weren't important, but it really stuck with me. I'll spend most of my day down her welding bikes, and then spend my night welding sculptures. I was a studio art major in college, but after that got derailed ... well, I couldn't do any welding for a bit. Now I just do it here and for myself. Pushed aside the idea of actually being an artist and just do art as a kind of therapy. Better than any actual therapy I've been in." That last sentence comes out a bit bitter, but quickly she gives an enthusiastic, "I love acid."
Hearing the comments about art has Roxy's eyes widen in surprise, glancing back at you, "That's the reason I do it too. I never studied it like you, it's always been a hobby, like, you spend hours looking at medical books and trying to memorise all the terms, you need a break sometimes and creating something that wasn't words on a page was relaxing. Looking up from the books to find a beautiful scene in front of you, it's nice to relax and try to put it to paper. I learnt from doing and some free online lessons.", she nods, reaching up briefly to curl a few long strands of hair that escaped from the ponytail back behind her ear.
Pushing to her feet, she brushes her hands over her bottom, wiping away any dirt she picked up from there, then turns to face you. "Come on, show me some sculptures, I can tell you really want to.", she grins. Once you start to move, she follows behind and immediately asks, "Would you believe me if I said I was psychic?"
"My art is highly influenced by medical practice as well. Learning from doing tends to be the best way. I read a shit load, always at the library, but those are just things in my head. All the stuff I actually put to practice I learned in a hands on manner." She nods as the first bike is finishedbeing taken apart. "Yeah ..." she starts, "... seems like a good time to take a break. We probably have some things better disussed in private," she says engimatically."
Bobbi hobbles up the stairs and opens the door, "Make yourself at home."
"It's like that for doctoring.." Roxy replies, ".. you read through all the books and do all the theory, but then they drop you into the ER and it's a whole different thing than you expected it to be. The practice dummy doesn't thrash around, scream in pain and have parents bothering you about if their son is going to live or die.", shaking her head at some distant memories. Following along, she watches you climb the stairs, giving her lip a gentle bite, "I wish I was there when you fucked up your leg.", using the same words you gave.
Walking into the room, she looks up and around, moving over to some of the sculptures to look them over, but unable to focus due to the sheet amount of crystals gathered around. "You weren't kidding about the crystals." she chuckles, "You're like a crystal squirrel, hoarding them all away for Winter.".
Another brush over her pants, ensuring their clean, before finding the couch and flopping herself down onto it. "Most people don't believe me when I say I'm psychic. I mean, why would they? It's just nonsense. But I work for the police..", a glance up, ".. not officially..", attention drifting back to the mass of sculptures and crystals, ".. when they have nowhere to turn, they have me walk around the scene or inspect a murder weapon or something.".
Bobbi laughs, "Yeah, I packed up my tent when I first moved in here and found I had one box of random things and twenty three boxes of crystals. There's a secret reason that hippies collect crystals beyond vaguely new age properties and being pretty." She does not elaborate. The sculptures are of a variety of sizes, they are made of car and bike parts and various medical items. The artistically inclined would note that they seem to represent the moment a vehichle impacts a human body, leaving an impression on both. The works are raw, emotional, and minimalist. A lot of them could probably belong in a gallery or even a museum, though a lot of people would probably dismiss them as hunks of junk. In a junkyard you probably wouldn't even notice them as being anything but junk. A very keep and in-tune observer will note that emotional, spiritual, and psychic resonances have been completely stripped from the sculptures, perhaps in some final cathartic moment.
"Near death experiences make it very clear that there's more in this world than most people realize." It sounds like the accident was that bad. Either that or there's been more than one. She hobbles over and sits on a loveseat next to you. "Have you had any help in a structured way with your psychic gifts? Is it just ... well, not just, but you know ... just healing, or is there more to it then that?" Then she looks a little uncertain, "... oh ... I didn't realize you were a cop ..."
To get more comfortable, Roxy pushes off her boots, wriggles her toes, then pulls her legs up onto the couch and crosses them in an indian style, hands clasping together to rest in her lap. "Near death experiences, or actual death, leave the heaviest imprint. If you know how to tap into that.. resonance.. then you can almost re-live it.". There's a little smile and a shake of her head, "I'm not a cop, quite the opposite, I'm a murder suspect. But they can't prove it and they can't trust me to give them honest readings, so the chief detective on the case keeps me on his payroll instead.", a gentle shrug of her shoulders. "I can sense those imprints and re-live those moments. It's fine when the emotional imprint is a happy one, but murders and deaths are so draining, you can become so lost in it that you can almost feel yourself dying. I come out of it an emotional wreck, sometimes."
"I see what you've done with the sculptures, it's subtle but clever. I like it.", she smiles, gazing at you for a moment before turning her attention to one of the larger displays, "The accident seems to have had a profound effect on you. But that's a miserable topic..", she chuckles, ".. I want to know the secret of hippies and crystals."
"Yeah ... " she says quietly, as she stares off into space. Perhaps she is reliving the near death experience, the death experience, or the infinity of deaths. Whatever it is, it seems to have her attention. Or maybe the hippie is just spacing out, as they are wont to do. She shakes the thoughts out of her head and looks at you. "Oh, that's good ..." she stops though and realizes that that might be the best way to phrase things. "I meant. Hmm. I'm not sure what I meant. I don't /hate/ cops, I just ... don't /love/ them." After a beat she adds, "I've already give you a bunch of my secrets, and besides, that one is usually reserved for hippies. Maybe later."
Looking at the sculptures she notes, "If you see one you like, you're welcome to it. It's the least I can do to thank you for your assistance. Besides, what am I going to do with all these sculptures? It's therapy, so it's more about the process of creation. If I don't give away my sculptures I'll be drowning in them like I am with the crystals." She looks to you, "So you can heal people? That it? Well, not it, but like ... can you start fires with your mind or move things, or have I just seen too many movies?"
Reaching over, Roxy grabs a cushion off the couch and throws it at you playfully, "I just told you, I can see into the past, where emotional resonance is strongest. I can watch a murder taking place and sketch a picture of the murderer. Okay..", a playful roll of her eyes, ".. it's not as cool as setting fire to people or throwing things around, but..", a shrug, reaching up to unfasten her ponytail, letting her long black hair fall loose, ".. yeah. It's boring. I can cure measles and tuberculosis, knit together broken limbs and bullet wounds, but it's not as cool as lifting your table with the power of my mind.", she chuckles. "I'm so sorry I'm not more interesting."
"He's fine.. the Detective I mean.. he helps me when I need it, I help him when he needs it..", she shrugs, "But he's not ruling me out of the murder. I want to steal his files so I can try and clear my name, but I don't know anyone who would be willing to break into a police precinct, hack computer files and steal evidence. All the criminals I know and nobody.", she grins.
Bobbi laughs, "Sorry, I wasn't saying you're not interesting. I was just curious, as it's not something I know too much about. I've had a few offers to help try and heal my leg, but those things don't work so well when you already have metal screwed into the bones. I don't really want to know what would happen if the bones started to heal with the metal attached." She looks at you and raises and eyebrow, "Did you do it? ... you don't have to answer that." She hmmms, "The files are definitely on a computer? Not hard copy?"
Uncrossing her legs, Roxy drops her feet back to the floor and leans forward, her forearms resting upon her thighs to take her forward leaning weight. "They should be. They can pull me up on their computer with a few key taps, my entire criminal record..", she ponders. "I didn't do it. I have an assault charge, but that was self defense.. self defense with a crowbar, but still self defense.", she grins.
"I'm not sure if I could fix your leg.", tilting her head as she looks at it, "I think maybe if I operated and removed the metal, then I could repair the damage, but I've never tried it before, it might not work on old wounds the same way."
Bobbi shivers a bit at the idea of more leg operations, "I appreciate the thought, but I think I'll pass for now." She hmmms, "Yeah, I don't really no how to work a computer, so I could only be of use with actual hard files." She does not elaborate on how exactly she might be able to steal hard files. "Supposedly these things can be hacked, but I have no idea. It sounds like they're doing some weird extortion thing on you. Not having you as an informant, because you're not informing on people, you're just ... using your natural talents. I've figured out a few tricks, but definitely not psychic. Just ways to ring up the old blue person and get things done."
"I suppose it's a little like that." Roxy admits, sitting back again and pulling her feet up onto the couch, thighs pressing to her chest, arms wrapping around her legs. "But it's mutual. The detectives wife was seriously ill so I offered to heal her if he would put a hold on the murder charge. With my record I'd end up in prison even if they couldn't prove it was me, I have enough of a past for them to imagine up some reason it was me. That's why I want to clear my name, he's not going to put it on hold forever. With a shrug, she rests her chin on her knees and asks, "So, what are you? Like, you've learned some tricks? Like a sorcerer or something else?"
Bobbi hmmms slightly, "What do you have to do to clear yourself? I mean, it seems like you would just need to figure out who committed the crime and then tell the cops, right? And I thought you said that's kind of the way you were helping them already?" She looks at you trying to figure out what exactly she is missing, or what you're not telling her. "Yeah, a lot of people tend to unfairly judge others by their appearance or their past. People that are part of bearaucratic systems tend to do this a lot more than others. Maybe someday that will change, but I'm not holding out hope." She looks down, "A sorcerer, hmm? No, not quite that. I don't know how to explain exactly, it's sort of like I pray to the version of me that's no me. Like she has a plan figured out for my immortal soul and the best path for it, but sometimes I remind her that as important as the soul is, I am still a human made of flesh and bone and the road can be tough and I need comfort. Usually she listens. I don't know if that is part of her plan too, or she's sympathetic, or maybe she knows there's parts of this reality that I understand and she doesn't. I try not to ask for too much. As I said, I don't know how far it takes me off the right path, and it can be better to figure out answers the normal way. Or maybe the point is that I should be asking for more, but I just haven't figured that out yet."
"That's the thing.." Roxy explains, ".. I can't use my abilities to tell them who did it, because I'm the suspect. They're not going to believe me if I say it was Joe Swinson from three blocks over.", she chuckles, "They're going to need proper evidence. Even when I give them information, they still need proper evidence or the case will get laughed out of the court. I'm just like a hint, someone who can point them in the right direction."
Listening to your words, Roxy rests her head on her upraised knees, a little smile upon her lips as she takes it all in. "It sounds like a religion, like a Goddess talking to you, or something. You could be a mage. I've only talked to a couple, but their magic is like the magic of the Gods, they can do incredible things.. like, world changing things.". Her head raises again, focusing her attention more clearly on you, "I was there when one had this crystal..", glancing at the crystals in here, ".. and he turned it into a hot mug of coffee. Then he drank it and made the mug just disappear. Poof!", her closed hand opens quickly, "Gone. It was only small magic, but it was so cool.", she chuckles.
Bobbi nods slightly, "Well, I mean, it's not a Goddess, it's just me. The other me, the blue me. She's like the director and I'm the actor, but we're one and the same. Yeah, a mage, that's what some people call it. But I don't know, so many people mean so many different things by that. So many assumptions. I mean, look at the ones I made about psychic powers." She looks to you, "Was there a reason he did that, or was he just showing off? The crystals have a magic about them as well, but it's a mundane magic. A way to create a system and fool the system. It's pretty genius actually."
Then she looks down, "I guess I could try to look into what happened with the murder for you. If you like." Then she looks back to you a little uncertain, "Was it bad? The murder that is. Was it a bad one? Not that there are good ones, but ... I dunno. Stuff like that makes me kinda queasy. I'm not the violent type, but I might have to learn to be."
"He might have been showing off.." Roxy admits with a nod, ".. there was a coffee shop upstairs and a kettle in the room, he didn't need to do it.". Uncurling herself, she starts putting her boots back on. "It could be you're the goddess. You seem pretty nice to me.", glancing up with a little grin. "Magic is made for us bikers, anyway, we're like walking engines. Fuel in, controlled explosions inside, then boom..", pushing a hand out in front of her, as if she were releasing some unseen ball of fire, ".. out with the power.".
Feet in, now to fasten the boots tightly. "I saw the pictures, it was really bad. Multiple knife wounds, he was all cut open and sliced. I've seen the inside of a body but it still made my stomach twist.", wrinkling her nose at the memory. "A witness said they saw someone with the Devil's Legion logo running from the scene, and from the back it looked like me.. with the hair and size and all.", shaking her head. "I don't know anyone else in the Legion like me, and I know I didn't do it.".
Bobbi laughs, "I don't know if I'm that nice, but thank you." Then after pausing a beat, "Oh. I'm not a biker. Not anymore at least. I just fix bikes." She looks at you with a sheepish smile, "I'm kind of scared to go riding." Looking down at her feet, she says, "Let me know if you want me to try to take a look for you. Not exactly the kind of thing I want to look at, but if it will help you, I'm willing to give it a try. I'm trying to figure out how I would communicate what this person looks like to you, but I guess the police have sketch artists." Her feet rocks back and forth and gently slap the floor. "I guess when you look at something that definitely happened, you only have to see it the one time, because it happened that way."
"You can always come riding with me, there's space for two." Roxy suggests, "If you can handle speed, the R1 is like a rocket on two wheels.", she chuckles. Hearing that you would want to look into it, she asks, "How would you do that? It would be great if you can. What would you need? Would you need anything?", there's a light sense of excitement in her voice, "This is so cool. Working together, solving crimes together, we're going to need a mystery van and a dog. I'll look into it.", she laughs.
Bobbi shakes her head a little, "No, I'm too scared to try that. I won't even get in a car these days. It just seems ... unsafe." She hmmms, "Well, I would need to know where and when the murder happened, and who it happened to. I mean, that's about all I need, but anything else connected would help." Looking to you she asks, "I'm guessing you having some of his hair or cherished posessions would be asking too much? Not necessary, but it would help. I mean, don't you have an alibi or some way that could clear you, or is this a Long Black Veil kind of thing?" Bobbi seems a bit sad at the crime fighting suggestion, "Yeah ... a van and a puppy ... that would have been nice."
The excitement drifts slowly into disappointment. "The detective wouldn't tell me any of that, except for a rough area in the harbor district.", she shrugs. "I could try asking him to see if he'll give me something, I might catch him on a good day."
Her boots on, she stands up, arches her back and stretches, "I did have an alibi, I was with the rest of the Legion, but of course they're going to cover for me so he doesn't believe that either.", she chuckles. "I'm not very lucky. We should get you trained, though!", the idea jumping back into her mind, "I've been going to Kung Fu classes. Like..". Aiming at an empty space, she leans back and kicks upwards; it's not very high, it might hit the upper chest on a short person, so she's obviously still learning. The leg comes straight back down, then she starts a spin kick, but needs more training there as she ends up just stumbling with her leg raised, "Oops.. You too can fight like me!", she laughs.
Bobbi hmmms, "Well, there's got to be records, right? People don't just get murdered in the harbor and not exist." She looks to you, "Are you sure this ever happened? I mean, if there's no one else that looks like you and you don't know where this happened or who it happened to, how do you know it happened? These things you're helping them with ... did they know you could do them before they told you about this murder? I mean, you said you were with the rest of the legion, so someone is obviously setting you up, but maybe your thinking about this has gotten all up tight? With the alibi though, I'm not saying I would give you an alibi. I'm saying maybe there's something you didn't realize, some person there, or some other thing about the time and place that would be able to prove it. Maybe a little late now. I think looking into the actual murder is probably the best bet."
Looking over she notes, "I used to want to box. All my brothers would box and it looked like so much fun. But the few times I would get in the ring with them, they'd treat their kid sister with kid gloves. I wanted them to treat me like anyone else. One time with one of my brothers I got so annoyed that he wouldn't box me that I kicked him square in the nuts. Well, he boxed me alright. Uppercut that knocked me out and off my feet. He was so sorry. Couldn't stop apologizing. I mean, my head was spinning, but I wasn't mad, I got what I had wanted even if I lost. My dad didn't see it that way. Laid down the law. After that I couldn't even fake box. If I tried to get in the ring my brothers would just get out. These days I don't know what I could do. I mean, I'm pretty good at yoga ... well, I was really good, now I can't do all the poses properly ... but in terms of a fight I feel like I would have to figure something else out. No kicking for me." She looks down as she realizes her vulnerability. "I have another stalker," she says quietly.
"They pulled us all in, the entire gang, because the witness had seen the Devil's Legion on the jacket.." Roxy explains, "They picked me out from the rest of the description. I mean, I saw the pictures, I saw the dead guy..", her comments start to drift off, thinking about the possibility of it all being a set up. What if they did know of her abilities? What if this was the plan all along? But why..? Thoughts spin around her head for a few quiet seconds. "No, that's crazy. It's too much just to use me like that.", a gentle nibble on her lip as she thinks, then suggests, "What about the news? The way the body was all cut up like that, there must have been some news reports about it? Where do we find old news reports?"
Leaving that behind for now, she listens to the story about the brothers, shaking her head slowly. "That reminds me of the Legion, when I first joined them. I wouldn't back down. One of them kept punching me, but I got back up again and stepped in, demanding to be allowed along with them.. and he punched me, and I got back up.. then he pulled a knife, and that's when their leader stepped in. I didn't know it at the time, but he could sense me healing the punches every time I got knocked down.", she chuckles, "It really freaked out the big guy, he didn't expect me to keep getting up after those punches. He must have thought I was unbreakable.", she nods. Then the final comment has her tilt her head curiously, "You have a stalker?"
Bobbi raises an eyebrow at you, "Crazier than psychics and mages? Never doubt this world or it will smack you hard to teach you a lesson. We can go the library and look up the newspapers from that time period, they would assuredly have something about a brutal murder. I'm actually pretty handy with the microfiche, so I can definitely help you out with that. I spend way too much of my time at the library. There's just so many things to read." She nods her head, "Yeah, had one and have one. He has something to do with Styx, but I'm not sure what yet. Dawson was supposed to look into it for me. I need to find him and see what he's learned. Someone slipped something to me when I was there, the time before I met you. That's probably why I seemed so out of it that day. Not slipped me something in my drink -- though maybe they did that too -- I mean slipped some weird little gift into my pants pocket. Creeps me out just thinking about it. Either happened at the bar or he followed me home from the bar. I don't know when I'm going to see this guy again, but I hope I'm ready. My places is only 3 blocks from the bar, and it's not exactly a secret I work at Angel Restorations. He undoubtedbly knows where I live. Been fucking up my sleep, but I just got to push through with all this pre-Holiday work and keep it out of my mind."
"That's a good idea, we should try the library. After work though, we have two more bikes to do." Roxy smiles. "A stalker at the Styx? There are some weird people in there some days, that one we saw talking to Dawson? He really creeped me out. He looked human but it's like.. he didn't feel like one.", wrinkling her nose at the thought.
"What did they put in your pocket? Not some snipped off body part, I hope.", she chuckles. "If you're worried about staying here alone, I can sleep on the couch, and if they come knocking I can..", and then she's off with her Kung Fu again, punching an imaginary target off to the side of her, complete with sound effects, "Hai! Yah!", punch, punch, kick. At least she's got the basics down. She turns to you with a laugh, "Or at least shoot them with my pistol..". Then another idea, "Or you can come and stay with me, I have a spare bedroom. I'd need to put a bed in there though, I've only got my university books in there at the moment.".
Bobbi nods slightly, "Yeah, he kind of gave me the creeps too. I think that was the first time I've met him, though. A lot of weird people there, but most of them are good people once you get to know them. A lot of people think poorly of the bikers if they don't know them. Someone though ... someone's a bad apple. A bad apple into some voodoo shit."
Bobbi just stares at you for a long time, and you get the impression that it might in fact have been a snipped off body part. She does not elaborate, "I'm not going to turn down a sleep over. You'd be welcome to stay here, but don't feel you have to. I can figure out enough protection to make my self feel safe. But again, I'm not going to turn down a sleep over, and if necessary I'll pretend to be slightly more helpless than I actually am." She hmmms, "Where is your place? I mean, if you're down a bed then my place is probably better, but ... wait ... I thought you were staying at Styx? Did I just hear wrong?"
The stare is returned with one of her own, Roxy's otherwise smooth brow wrinkling into a frown, "It was a snipped off body part, wasn't it? That's gross.", shaking her head. "Oh no, I stayed there the night..", she explains, ".. it was a very weird night with dead bodies, a weird killer and a crazy oversized bird with talons like razors.", she chuckles. "It's probably best not to ask, but I'll tell you if you do."
"I'm living in Glenhurst, I have a house there. It's not a big house, but it has two bedrooms and a garage where I can work on my bike.". Reaching down, she gathers up her slingbag and places it on the couch, so she can open it up and reach inside. Out comes a rather large pistol, a Desert Eagle to those in the know, "Or I can stay here with this.", she aims down the sights, closing one eye, "This thing will stop an angry bear.", then lowers the weapon but points out a switch, "It's alright, the safety is on.".
Bobbi nods, "Yeah, I feel like I'm Sandy Fucking Williams." She listens to you talk about dead bodies and eyes the gun as it comes out, a little bit of fear and a little bit of excitement. "Alright. It sounds like we both need a sleep over. Do you want me to order some delivery or something? I have a computer now, so we might be able to stream a movie if I can figure that out. Probably no horror movies, unless you want to creep yourself out. I kind of like doing that sometimes. For halloween this year me and my friend went into the woods, took a lot of acid, and told ghost stories. It's good to freak yourself out sometimes, in a controlled manner at least." Most people's controlled manner would not involve a shit-ton of LSD, but that's Bobbi for you. "Or we can just take a break from all the girly bike work and do some manly stuff like mani-pedis and makeovers. I even have an extra pair of pyjamas. I know everyone at Emerson's and they know where I live, so they'll let us take booze back here. Might even deliver if I ask nicely. Ed Ed Ed is a sweetheart."
Looks like she's staying! Roxy pushes her slingbag aside and drops back onto the couch and immediately goes to work pulling her boots back off, "Chinese food, movies and alcohol sounds like a good way to waste an evening.", she says with a smile, almost smacking herself in the face with one boot as it snaps off unexpectedly. "Woah!", the boot slipping from her fingers and nearly bouncing over the back of the couch, but she manages to catch it before it gets away. Down to the floor it goes with the other one.
Her jacket is slipped off and placed on the floor at the side of the couch; the couch seems to have now been defined as 'her space'. "I don't do girly..", she says, a motion toward her face, ".. I don't even wear make-up.", not that she needs to, she has a good complexion. Realising she's just taking over things, she sits up a bit, "Though if you want to we could. And if you don't want Chinese I'll eat anything.", she smiles.
Bobbi reaches down slowly and begins to unlace her boots, a bit of an effort given her leg. "Oh, we don't have to do any of that stuff, I have some things, but I usually don't bother myself. Mostly collecting dust. I was just joking to cotrast what we have been doing today versus what might be expected of us." She remove the boots, and contrasting to her black-shirt and eart-tone overalls are bright neon pink socks with elephants on them. "Chinese sounds great," she says. "Anything in particular you like? I usually eat vegan exclusively, but once a month I break that and eat whatever. This sounds like a good time to do that, but I'm just not super familiar with what's good. I do like the cold noodles with sesame sauce and hot and sour soup, but we should get way more than that." Using the back of the loveseat for leverage, she slowly gets up and hobbles over to the dresser. "You're welcome to borrow any clothes I might have that you would be more comfortable in. I got pyjamas, onesies, sun dresses, over sized t-shirts, pretty much everythin you could want to be comfy in." She lights a couple of white prayer candles that are on top of the dresser and then looks to you.
The pink socks are stared at as they cross the room, Roxy grinning widely at the sight, but she doesn't say anything about them. Her own white socks are pulled off and placed near her boots, leaving her soft feet bare, allowing the air to get at them she gives the toes a little wriggle. "I'll have my favorite, chicken fried rice, sweet and sour chicken and some spring rolls. And a bottle of Jack Daniels.", she adds with a chuckle.
"Are we stopping now, it's early isn't..", she starts, looking at the time and blinking in surprise, "Seven already? Time flies when you're having fun.", she chuckles. "Just a t-shirt would be great.". Sliding down on the couch so her bottom isn't sitting on it, she unfastens her pants and starts wriggling out of them, the woman wearing black lace beneath. "I shouldn't drink too much though, I'm your bodyguard.", a glance at the pistol still sitting beside her.
Bobbi opens the top drawer and begins and pulls out a black XXL T-Shirt with a small picture of a boombox and the words: 'WFMU Jersey City' written on it. She tosses it to you, and then undoes her overall straps and lets them fall to her feet before she steps out of them while using the dresser for support. She's wearing a large black t-shirt which most of the time cover black cotton panties, and of course, the before mentioned bright socks. However, with all the tattoos it looks from a distance as if she is still completely dressed. It seems that her knees and face are the only parts of her where you /might/ be able to fit another tattoo. She dials on the phone, "Ed?" she asks sweetly, "Ed Ed Ed? ... Yeah, of course it's me. Can you do me a favor? ..." she laughs at something. "no, no, no. Just bring me up a bottle of Jack? and maybe two glasses and a thing of ice. ... No, not like a whole 5 gallon bucket, like something where it will at least last a little bit if we decide we want ice in our drinks. ... yeah ... and two glasses. ... yeah, if you could. ... no, doesn't have to be a whole bottle, whatever you have opened as long as it's enough ... you know what enough is. ... ok, thanks, you're a sweetheart." She hangs up and dials again, giving the address and her name, and then asks for "Chicken fried rice, sweet and sour chicken, spring rolls, cold sesame noodles, and beef with broccoli." She hangs up and then shuffles back toward the loveseat, lighting more candles of the candles as she goes. "Alright, all taken care of. You know, this area is pretty far from anything and in a shitty neighborhood, so we could probably go shooting around here ... or even in here. Up to you, I don't know how much ammo you brought. It's been over a year since I've used a gun, but I imagine it's like riding a bicycle." She laughs, "Funny, I learned to do those things at pretty much the same time." Using the back of the loveseat, she slowly lowers herself into the seat. Her left leg curls under her, and her bad right leg stretches out in front of her.
While you're on the phone, Roxy manages to slip out of her tight black leather pants, and quickly changes out of her current t-shirt - matching black lace beneath there too - and pulls on the larger t-shirt that falls almost to her knees and slides off to one side, leaving one shoulder and a length of her arm bare. Looking up, she finds you're still busy with the phone so goes about tidying up her bed for the night, the couch; puffing up the cushions and placing them at one end to act as a pillow, clearing everything else off such as the slingbag, then she simply flops down on her back with her head on the cushions. Legs stretched out, she's a little taller than the width, so her feet rest on the arm rest on the opposite end. The pistol remains close, resting on her tummy.
"All done?" she asks when you're off the phone, "Thanks Bobbi. We could fire a few shots.", lifting up the pistol to look at it, noisily chambering a round, "I have two more clips in the bag. Do you want to try?", she asks, holding the pistol out toward you, handle first, "Be careful, it has a bit of a kick to it." she smiles.
Bobbi smiles, "You look comfy. Don't worry, I have some more sheets and blankets and pillows and the like for when it's the proper hour.
Hippies love pillow and fabric, and that's one stereotype I definitely fall into." Bobbi takes the gun slowly, it's heavier than she expected, but she quickly adjusts to it. Methodically she examines the gun, seeming to work to understand how it's put together. She aims it at the far wall, looks down the sight, and says 'pew' as she lifts the gun slightly as if she had shot it. Then she hands it back to you. "Hold on, let me make a target." She walks to the far end of the room. It's a good size loft, but it's still not exactly going to be a range. With a piece of chalk, she begins to mark a series of concentric circles on the brick wall. After that she starts to draw some various sigils where the numbers might go on the target. She rubs the chalk together in her hand and blows on it, and then gives a single emphatic nod. Turning around she lights more candles along the way. Then takes a seat on the loveseat. "Ok, there's are target. You want to go first?"
Sitting up after you've taken the gun, Roxy watches for a moment then stands, takes the weapon back, and follows a few steps to see what you're doing on the wall. "Aren't we going to put holes in your wall?", she asks with a little grin. Raising the weapon, she looks down the sights, tilts her head to get a sense of the range, then her thumb clicks the safety off.
Aiming again, she steadies her breathing as she's been trained to do, squeezes the trigger and.. Crack! Not quite the solid explosive sound she's used to, though it has the same effect, knocking her arms upwards from the recoil, though they lower again for a second shot, the sound confusing her again, stopping there to take a look at the weapon to see if there might be something wrong with it. "That doesn't sound right.", twisting it one way then the other to see what the issue might be. "Wait, did you do something?", she asks with a smile.
Bobbi grins at you. "Nothing wrong with the weapon. With all of the welding equipment and music and such, I installed silencers in the loft so the neighbors wouldn't complain." Sure, because that's a thing that does that thing.
A knock on the door.
Bobbi slowly gets up and makes her way to the door. There's an older guy with a baseball cap and a polo shirt embroidered 'ED ED ED' at the door carrying a small bucket filled with ice and a doublebagged shopping bag, both of which she hands to Bobbi. She reaches up and kisses him on the cheek and says, "I'll take care of the bill tomorrow." He tips his hat without saying a word and heads down the stairs. Bobbi slowly moves back to the loveseat and puts the bucket down a little bit in front of her. Out of the bag she pulls out an unopened bottle of jack, two tumblers, and two Coors Light bottles. "Aww, he decided we need a chaser. He's so sweet." She reaches into the bucket with her hand and places ice in each glass, before pouring what is probably a triple in each glass. She rests one glass and beer in between her legs and then holds out the other beer and glass for you.
"You installed what..?" Roxy looking up at the ceiling, then across at the walls, but before she can allow that weird statement into her mind, someone knocks the door. Turning to face it, she crosses her arms behind her back, keeping the weapon out of sight, staying quiet while the interaction continues.
And then alcohol has arrived. A very heavy pistol mixed with alcohol, what could possibly go wrong? Moving over to the loveseat, she places the pistol down and sits on the arm of the seat alongside, "Is he related or did you just wrap him around your finger?", she asks with a little grin. Watching you at work, she finally takes the drinks offered to her and stands up, lifting the glass for a long drink that burns its way down her throat. A soft cough and she cools it down with a mouthful of beer.
Turning around to face you, she lifts her glass in a toast, "To new friends.", she smiles.
Bobbi laughs, "He just works downstairs and Emerson's is one of the four places where I spend any significant amount of time ... and two of the other places are right next door, so we see each other a lot. We'll chat some nights, or just enjoy silence together as we stare off into space. I don't quite know exactly how he views me, maybe I don't want to know, but he's never been weird about anything. It's easy to be friendly when people don't make it weird. If they do, well, then it's time for Bobbi Bitch." She raises the glass, "To new friends." She takes a hearty sip of the jack, finding it smooth compared to all the well whiskey she's drinking ... yeah, we ordred top shelf tonight. Then a pull of the beer as a chaser.
Then she grins, "Ok, I'm lying. Let's just say it's a natural talent. The blue me doesn't want this me going deaf, so it was easy to get that taken care of. Mind if I give it a try now?"
"There's a Bobbi Bitch?" Roxy asks with a chuckle, "I can't imagine you being mean, but if you are, I don't want to be around to see the mess. You and your Goddess magic.", she grins, lifting her glass for another quick drink, the ice clinking softly. Sitting herself down on the floor nearby, she draws her legs in so they're crossed in her usual indian style, then pulls the t-shirt down over her knees.
"Yeah, let me see how good you are.". Leaning over, she gathers up the pistol and offers it up to you. "So you're a walking silencer? That would be useful. I'll learn some magic one day, I'm told I can learn sorcerer magic as I'm psychic, it's like I'm 'awakened' or something, but I have too much to do for now. Like, Kung Fu!", a playful swipe of her hand like a karate chop.
Bobbi grins and takes a long sip off the drink, having now polished off about half of it. "I don't know if I ever internally become a bitch, but I can do it externally if I need to. Everyone needs to be able to do that or you become a target. Speaking of targets ..." She takes the gun from you, this time aware of it's heft. She aims, and fires ....
... The shot hits the wall to the side of the target, thankfully no richochet. Bobbi just manages to control the gun's recoil, but it's obvious that the gun's kick is a little more than she's used to. "I know a Sorcerer who might be able to teach you some tricks if you decide you want to learn. She's good at crafting little things. Made me a nice present. She's super nice too. Though, maybe a bit on the goody-goody side. I don't think she's a fan of Styx and Dawson, but she at least knows enough not to be annoying about it." She aims and takes another shot ...
This shot makes it into the target, but definitely not a bulls eyes. Bobbi controls the recoil more this time, clicks the safety and hands it back to you.
"I know what you mean, I do actually use a crowbar for breaking skulls when I'm angry enough, but maybe I'll learn enough Kung Fu to be less violent next time." Roxy replies. When the gun starts firing, she has another few sips of her JD, clear blue eyes looking over the top of the glass to see where the shots impact. A wrinkle of her nose at the first shot, but as each one after creeps closer to the bullseye, she can't help but smile, "There you go, you're picking it up already.". Reaching up when you're done, she takes the pistol back and drops it into her lap.
"I met a girl called River. I say girl, she looks like a girl, but she's older than she looks." Roxy says, "She has a school where I could learn a few things, but I have plenty of time." she nods. Glass placed down one side, beer the other, she lifts the pistol and aims down the sights from her seated position, gently nudging her aim one way then the other, slightly up, down, then squeeze. The shot impacts with the target, but she was slightly off target again, "Aww, come on, that should have hit dead center.", the woman pulling the weapon back to check the sighting alignment.
Bobbi takes another sip of the jack, finishing it in four sips total. She smiles as she takes the gun from you. "Yeah, River. That's who I was talking about." She begins to aim the gun, taking her time. "She's definitely a woman," Bobbi says as she squeezes the trigger. Any contemplation of what that might mean is shattered as the bullet hits the mark, but the gun kicks back, slamming Bobbi right in the eyes. "Oh, fuck ..." she says, delicately handing the gun back to you as she cups a hand to her face. "Good thing we got a lot of ice. Maybe that's enough target practice for now, though"
"I wish I had her looks.." Roxy replies, ".. I'm already getting wrinkles around my eyes.", touching her fingertips to the area beneath her eyes, stroking under the left then the right. When the gun kicks back, she can't help but laugh, giggling softly at the sight and taking the gun back, placing it on the floor beside her. "Aww, I shouldn't laugh.".
Pushing to her feet, she moves closer and takes your hand gently in her own, pulling it aside so she can see your face, "Let me get that.", she smiles, reaching up to lightly touch the impacting spot that's already turned red from the heavy impact. The warmth of her magic can be felt almost instantly and any pain that was there is instantly extinguished, any chance of a bruise occuring ruled out a few seconds later. "The thing with takeaway's, you're always starving by the time they arrive." she notes.
Bobbi laughs with you, "No, it's ok, it's funny. I kind knew that would happen." You touch her face and she feels the warmth of healing. "Good idea, save the ice for the drinks." She smiles, "Thanks though."
"Speaking of takeaway ..." She shuffles over to her dresser and pulls out some cash from the top drawer, then shuffles towards the door, "Coming ..." Opening the door, she counts out payment and a nice tip. This delivery man does /not/ get a kiss on the cheek. Then she closes the door and moves towards you with two plastic bags fulls of Chinese takeaway. They are placed on the floor by the loveseat, but instead of immediately opening it she adds more ice to her drink and pours herself another triple. "I thought I couldn't hold my liquor anymore, but turns out it was just the voodoo causing me problems." A sip of the drink, and then she puts it on the side of the loveseat. "Yeah, River and I ..." she starts as she begins opening up the bags of Chinese food "... we're kinda together. Kinda." Peering into the bag she says, "Oh, I forgot to get plates. I hope you don't mind eating out of the cartons. I might be able to get plates from Emerson's if it's really needed. Oh, good, they did send some chopsticks and plastic forks and spoons." Items are places out on the floor, three main dishes, two sides, and a soup. Probably enough food.
The knock on the door gets her attention and Roxy quickly gathers up the pistol, pulling back the chamber to empty the final round, then quickly sliding out the empty clip. Another clip is gathered from her bag and slapped into place before you've reached the door. The bodyguard is doing her job, it could be anyone at the door after all. Again, she stands with her arms crossed behind her back, keeping the pistol out of sight, and when the delivery man has finally disappeared, she relaxes, places the weapon aside and settles herself back on the floor in front of where you were sitting.
"That was good timing, I was going to attack your kitchen if it took any longer." she grins. Sitting upright, she gets a look at what's in each small bag, and quickly grabs the spring rolls, taking one out to munch on while you're sorting out the rest.
Hearing the confession, her clear blue eyes widen in surprise, "Together? Like.. together together? Oh.", a curious but brief frown, "Okay. I didn't think you were..", she lets that drift off, the spring roll left caught between her teeth so she can free her hands and refill her glass.
Bobbi looks around, "That would be a bit difficult, my kitchen is almost two blocks away. I got a hot plate, that's about it. I was planning to get that fixed after the holiday season is over." Bobbi takes out the Cold Noodles and pours the Sesame sauce over them, she brings the container to her lap, and begins to slowly toss the noodles with chopsticks."
"Well ... I don't know that I am either. I know that sounds weird, but ... I guess hippies are the free love type, so it wasn't exactly foreign to me, but ... I'd mostly been with men, I'm just kinda ... kinda on strike from men after the last one tried to kill me. I mean, occasionally I'll find someone, and ... but the point is I'm just not going to put myself in the position again. At the same time after a few years on your own, you get lonely. So, when a friend expresses an attraction, you give it a shot, and ... it works out. She's supportive, but also let's me keep my secrets ... I guess if anything she's too understanding. It's also not an exclusive arrangement ... she has plenty of other lovers, and I ... well occasionally I get to takes LSD and make love to some guy I just met on the beach. It works out. I don't really think too much about what it means, and so far I haven't really had to think too much about what it means."
The chopsticks grab a big clump of noodles, and Bobbi bites, and then slurps, chewing the soft noodles. She takes a sip of her whiskey while placing the noodles on the loveseat's arm. "Those are good, have some." After that she grabs the Beef with Broccoli. "Yes. This is what I need. I've been feeling kind of ... I dunno, anemic ... ever since that voodoo shit. Beef is what my body needs." Despite needing beef, she eats two pieces of brocolli first and then a piece of beef. She looks to you and notices your surprise, "Don't worry, this is not some elaborate plan to seduce you. ... Sorry, I hope that doesn't weird you out. I thought everyone at Styx knew? Maybe I'm not the subject of gossip that I thought I was, or maybe just last week's gossip."
"Well, I have only just met you, so it's not like anyone had a chance to spread the gossip my way." Roxy replies with a little smile. "It's fine, it's not my thing, I like my men too much, but..", a gentle shrug, ".. I'm not going to tell anyone what they should or shouldn't be doing in their bedroom. Or beach.", she chuckles.
Still stuck on the spring rolls, she pulls another out of the bag, munching inbetween conversation. "I've had my fair share of partners. I don't give it out freely though, much to the surprise of the Legion who were all hoping for a share.", shaking her head with a smile at the memory, "I like to just.. be with someone, you know?", looking down at the bag of spring rolls, a faraway look in her eyes. "It's nice, having someone who cares and you care for, instead of just being another notch in their bedpost. Not that I haven't done that before..", she quickly states, ".. like I told you, I was a bit wild when I was younger, but after college I was so focused on the university studies that I didn't have time, and when I did I really wanted something more out of it.". She smiles to herself, still gazing inwardly, then shakes her head and finishes off the spring roll.
Pulling over two of the bags, she places the rice and the sweet and sour chicken next to each other, pops open the tops and gathers up some chopsticks so she can start on the main meal she requested.
Bobbi nods, "Oh yeah, I love men. I also hate them. If it wasn't for men I'd be able to date men. Maybe I'll get over my issues there one day, but this new stalker is not helping their case. As you said though, it's nice being with someone. The bikers definitely eyed me up when they first saw me at Angel Restorations or when I first started going to Styx. I think pretty much everyone hit on me, but when they realized I wasn't going to sleep with a single one of them, things got better. There was no internal competition driving them anymore. I have a hard and fast rule now to bring home anyone from a bar I'm a regular at. It's like fucking a goat, you do it once and it's your identity for life. I have to keep work and pleasure separate even if I'm in the mood. So even though I sleep with men, the idea of that is foreign to those at Syx." She looks over, "And please don't tell them otherwise. Man I'm telling you a lot my secrets tonight. I spent too much time in bad relationships to get into one again. With River? I'm not even sure I call it a relationship. There's sex and companionship, but she doesn't challenge me enough, you know? It's nice and I like being with her, but to really be in a relationship, I'd need someone that calls me out on my bullshit at least some of the time. We're having fun though, and it's helping me with a lot of my trust issues, so it's good for now. Now, when I talk about fucking random guys, don't think that it's regular or meant to be a notch on my bedpost. It's more that every so often, I want to be with a guy, and it would be nice if it could be something more, but I'm not there yet mentally. So occasionally ... Sorry I'm rambling. This is probably a lot more than you wanted to know about my sex life." She eats some more beef with broccoli, "So you're not seeing anyone in the Legion, but you seeing anyone? You don't have to get into if you don't want to."
"The Legion are gone. For now, at least.." Roxy explains, ".. they travelled east, they should be roaming around Florida about now. I'm stuck here because of the murder charge, if I leave the city the detective puts an APB out for me and wipes his hands of the whole thing.", shaking her head, frowning a little at that. "But..", lifting a chopstick in your direction, ".. just because he's an a-hole, I don't consider all men to be the same.", the chopstick gets stabbed into the rice along with the other, mixing it in with the sweet and sour before taking the mouthful.
"It's easy to do that, but then you're just closing yourself off because of a bad experience, and maybe missing the best one you'll ever find.". A little more sweet and sour, a big chunk of chicken, then she continues on. "But I'm not seeing anyone, I haven't met anyone that's really interested me yet. It's a big city though, I'm sure there's someone out there for me. They'd have to be patient if there is, I have a lot going on.".
"River didn't really seem the type. Don't judge a book by its cover, I guess.", she chuckles.
"I know that not all men are assholes. It's just ... well, I spent nearly two years being called all sorts of names, getting hit, sit like that. When I finally got the courage to leave, fucker ran me down with a car. I died that day, I know I did. I fell and my head hit the curb and split open. Then I was the blue me, watching this happen while also living this happening. I saw all the adjacent timelines, and I felt them all. Falling just slightly differently, but still dying. Dying ever time. I died ten thousand deaths that way, before I found the one where I only destroyed my leg, broke my arms, and went into a coma. I spent years recovering from that, and I'm just starting to get better. So, I have a lot of trust issues. I know that that isn't every man, but still. Something inside me chills, my heart hardens. I won't let them get close, won't let myself be vulnerable. If I could hide that and push it down and try to get over it? Well, that wouldn't be fair to the guy. So far now it's this way. I'm on a healing journey, of my mind, body, soul, and heart. It's not a journey I ever expected, but it's one I have to take. At the end I won't be the same person I was before all of this, but I'll eventually be whole again. For now ..." She downs the rest of the whiskey, "... dating men is not a priority."
Not wanting to interrupt, Roxy continues eating while you're talking, though her attention is mostly on you rather than the food. "That sounds.. just..", her clear blue eyes looking lost on how to explain it, "You looked at all possible timelines..? I'm healing your bruised nose and you can look through time and dimensions?", she chuckles, "No wonder you were asking if there was anything else I could do.".
"It does sound like you had it bad, though.", reaching over briefly to offer a comforting touch to your arm. "The only issue I've had with a guy was when I fell pregnant and had it aborted without even talking to him about it. I was still in college, it would have killed my future to keep it.".
Shaking that off, she finishes the last of her meal then leans back against the couch, pulling the bag of spring rolls up next to her to munch on, inbetween sips of her JD. "Well, I hope you find happiness, be it with a man or woman. You should be happy, you're a good person.", raising her glass in a toast to you.
"No, not all the possible timelines. It's like you go through the closest timelines, and in so many of them I died. Felt it. That surprise, the thud, blackness, surprise, thud, blackness, surprise, thud, blackness, over and over again for what felt like an eternity. Finally it was surprise and blackness, but witout the thud of my head splitting on the curb. I woke up in the hospital a few days later, my body wrecked, but alive. I'm not sure that I am capable of all that as I am. The blue me? She can do anything, but she also wants me to learn. She's giving me a tough road for the sake of my soul. Just because she can do something though, doesn't mean she will do it for me. It was only on that day that I even learned about her and how to communicate with her. The hermetics had been trying to get me to understand for years, and it finally took a massive trauma to make it all sink in. I'm getting better at looking through time and space, but if something like that happened to me again? It would be up to her and her thoughts about me, rather than me and my communcation with her. I don't know, does that make sense? It's weird. I guess figuring out all these things is part of my journey. I know that there are people around here that could probably fix my leg, but I just have the feeling that it's going to be me that finally fixes myself, for all that means, and for however long it takes."
She smiles as you touch her. "I had it bad, but I also had it good. I try not to dwell on the bad. Somethings take me to a bad place, so I'm avoiding them until I learn how to not go there. I think it's good I'm talking about this with someone. As I said, I usually just say I was in a card accident and don't elaborate. I had a therapist, but she was awful. Now I'm just trying to figure this out myself." She reaches out and touches your arm, "I'm sorry you had that rough experience. Maybe it's just part of the road your other you set out for your soul? I mean, it's these things that make us stronger, right? ... eventually that is." She quickly refills her glass with jack and toats you, "To new friends, the happiness they share, and the happiness that they deserve." She takes a sip of the whiskey, then puts the glass aside and grabs a spring roll.
Her glass is raised along with the toast, Roxy finishing the contents in one long gulp. "It's all part of life, it's the bad times that make us stronger. How boring would life be if everything was sunshine and roses all day every day?", she chuckles.
"That 'blue you' sounds so strange, I can't even imagine what that's like." pondering for a few moments, gazing off into space. "It must be quite nice, having someone there all the time.". Placing a hand to her mouth, she stifles a soft yawn, "It's too much for my tired mind.", she admits, giving a lazy smile as she pulls herself up onto the couch, flopping down and rolling onto her back comfortably. "Oh, wait..", she grumbles, stretching out across the carpet to grab the handle of her pistol with her fingertips, nudging it closer until she can pick it up. Laying down again, she rests it on her tummy, ready to use it should some strange voodoo practitioner appear.
"All that food and drink has made me..", a hand goes to her mouth, her eyes squint, then she lets out a soft burp, ".. sleepy.", she adds.
Bobbi nods and smiles, "Thanks for staying with me tonight." She says she wanders towards the bed, blowing out candles along her way. "It really means a lot to me." She retrieves a pillow and a blanket, brings it over, and does her best to tuck you in. The food is quickly put in the mini-fridge, and Bobbi heads to her bed. "I've got an alarm set for 9am, got to get to work then. You're welcome to join, but you already helped me make up for that loss day, so it's up to you. Sleep well, and don't let the stalkers bite." She gets in bed, quickly pops two pills, and the whiskey takes her to slumber.