2017-02-04 Tweety Bird Bandaid
This scene is rated Everybody
Warning: N/A
Players: Casey Jones, April O'Neil
GMed by N/A
Title: Tweety Bird Bandaid

"Beware of horses
I mean a horse is a horse of course, but who rides is important
Sitting high with a uniform, barking orders, demanding order… shit."

There are certain things that one doesn't expect to see, even in a city full of weirdos like New York. It's likely that one of those things is probably a guy walking around in thirty-three degree weather in a blood-stained wifebeater t-shirt. One certainly doesn't expect to see a guy in a blood-stained wifebeater t-shirt, with his face covered in a cracked hockey mask and a golf bag full of baseball bats and hockey sticks slung loosely over his back.

Suffice it to say that everyone is giving him a fairly wide berth, which is a shame because it prevents anyone from hearing his lovely rendition of a Run the Jewels song. Sure, Casey Jones looks pretty much like something you'd see on the cover of a death metal album, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy rap as much as the next guy.

However, he's not saying 'shit' because it's part of the lyrics to 'A Report to the Shareholders/Kill Your Masters'. He's saying 'shit' because he just jiggled the door handle to April O'Neil's aunt's (Mother's? Grandmother's? He keeps forgetting…) quaint little antique shop, and the door didn't open.

This perplexes him for a few seconds. There's no reason that they would have locked the door when they know that Casey Jones is patrolling the neighborhood now, right? No lawbreaker scum would dare to break into a quaint little antique shop in a neighborhood that Casey Jones is protecting, right?

"Only one explanation… April's in trouble!"

One of Casey's heavy, booted feet is swiftly brought against the aging door, breaking the handle and nearly knocking the door clean off of its hinges. Like an extra from a SWAT movie, he's in the door like a flash and moving around the wall to avoid getting caught in the doorway. The doorway's where you're most likely to get shot, after all. So says the internet.

Truth be told… the door was locked because April had gotten a NEW apartment in Hell's Kitchen and she hadn't been staying here at her parent's place for about two weeks now!

However… she was here tonight, as luck would have it. But she was here with company.

Upstairs in the Apartment over the Antique Store, April was having a small dinner party with herself and her cousin and cousin's husband. They were seated around April's kitchen table, the smell of food thick in the air and glasses of wine poured… a bit of friendly banter and catching-up going on. There was even a little jazz music playing on April's laptop to help add to the atmosphere.

LIttle did they knwo that a mad man from a Rock'n'Roll album had just smashed in the Antique Store door downstairs though…

April thought she heard something though, her eyes twitched behind her large framed glasses and she glanced out toward the front door of the apartment that lead downstairs… but she thought maybe, just maybe… it was 'nothing'.

It's not that Casey has terrible judgement. It's just that it takes a little while for his judgement to catch up with his fists. Or in this case, his feet. But as he pulls a shock and awe on a quaint little antique store, Casey quickly realizes that he's just behaved… not good.

It's not a big deal though. No lawbreakers would dare rob a place in Casey Jones' territory, even one with a broken, wide-open door. And he's good at fixing things.

"Damn. Is that Zack de la Rocha? I thought that dude was dead or some shit."

It IS Zack de la Rocha, formerly of Rage Against The Machine fame. Contrary to popular opinion, he is NOT dead, he just doesn't do much these days. Still, there he is, providing guest vocals on Run the Jewels newest album, available on the music-streaming platform of your choice.

Or on compact disc, if you're Casey Jones. The mid-nineties Discman on his hip isn't an ironic fashion statement. Neither are the enormous earphones covered up by his unruly mop of long black hair. He simply hasn't gotten a new MP3 player since his Zune got… broken.

Looking around the room, Casey makes sure there isn't a threat before he begins mumbling and tries to put the door back in place. The hinges are bent, but he manages to get it to shut after three attempts at slamming it into place. Of course, the door won't latch, since he kicked the latch and door handle all to pieces, but at least he's not letting in the thirty three degree weather anymore.

"There. She prolly won't even notice, with those big-ass glasses." Laughing to himself, Casey heads toward the stairway, to the apartment above.

April is picking up everyone's dinner plates and walking them over to the sink when she realizes that whatever had happened downstairs, definitely had not been a random thing. She sure didn't think it was Casey though, she thought it HAS to be one of the Turtles. "Mikey." April quietly said at the sink.

Her cousin, a blonde female lawyer from Boston (weahtly, attractive, super uppity and judgemental) looked at April when the name was spoken and questioned her.

"Oh, nothing, nothing." April said with a smile as she ran water over the dishes. A moment later and she turned around, reached a hand up to adjust her glasses and she smiled at her cousin and the husband (another lawyer, kind of portley and a very odd choice for a spouse based on her cousin's previous relationships).

"I uh… I better go check and see. I was supposed to have some building materials delivered." April stammered those words out. "I'll be right back!" She told her guests and then scurried off toward the apartment doorway. She popped it opened and stepped outside into the balcony area, then to the steps and BOOm, she ran right into him.

April screamed in startlment, but cut it off quickly, slapping both of her hands over her own mouth!

"Casey!" She said in a 'loud whisper shout' and slapped his chest with her left hand!

Behind his cracked hockey mask, Casey Jones smiles. It's fairly obvious, even though his face is hidden behind a cracked hockey mask. When a smile is genuine, it has a way of showing up in a person's voice, and for whatever reason the sound of his own name being 'loud whisper shouted' makes him break into a smile.

It probably has something to do with the look he sees on the face of the woman who's whisperyelling at him. Or maybe startlement is the closest thing to 'happy to see him' that Casey has experienced all day.

Unlike April, Casey takes no pains to hide his voice, and replies in his normal boisterous, conversational semi-indoor voice. He has a habit of talking to everyone like they're fellow hockey players, nerdy women included.

"Hey Ape! How's it… hang on a second, let me pause this shit, the album just started over again."

Casey attempts to find the pause button on his Discman. This might take a while.

April looked at the man as he spoke loudly at her and said those things, she looked him over. "My god… you've been… out hitting people, haven't you!" She said in a near-scolding tone of voice, still at whisper-levels.

"I have company over!" She loud whispered him some more. "My cousin and her husband!" She knew that if her cousin saw Casey, covered in blood and sweat and filth and… wait. "Are you wearing Drakar Noir? What are you, twelve years old?!" She slapped his shoulder again!

The door to April's apartment opened up and both her cousin and her cousin's husband looked out into the hallway. "Everything okay out here, Squeaks?" April's cousin said, using the nickname that April had from when their kids (that April vehemently hated too).

April quickly laughed, adjusted her glasses and looked back toward her Guests. "Oh yeah, we're all good here… its just… a cosplayer… from the, uh… Horror Convention, down the street. He scared me!"

"Oh my." April's lawyer cousin / husband said at the same time, both eyeing Casey supiciously.

Sniffing his armpit, just to make sure, Casey confirms that he's not wearing Drakkar Noir. "What? No. This is that Axe PHOENIX, babe. I got that two-pack for eight bucks, so I can use twice as much."

Sometimes, it's easy to forget that underneath his jock-y dude-bro exterior, Casey is really just a jock-y dude-bro. One who has taken quite a few hits to the head in his short lifetime.

As Mr. and Mrs. Lawyer peek out to check on their cousin/cousin-in-law, Casey realizes that once again April is hanging out with a fancier crowd than the one that he hangs out with. It's one of the many reasons that Casey doesn't get invited over very often. Maybe one day she'll have a dinner party with some loser burnouts who were good at sports in high school, and then Casey will be the guest of honor.

"There was a Cause Player here? Which cause? It better not be one of Shredder's goons or the Purple Dragons, or I'll go all Attica on 'em. Nobody scares my Best Girl and gets away with it."

The idea that April was trying to explain HIS bizarre appearance never once crosses Casey's mind. Nor does it cross his mind that it might not be a good idea to tell the attorneys that he's a violent vigilante.

"Whaddup, Squares? More accountant friends of April's? I keep telling her to let me do her taxes for her, but I think she figures I can't do taxes AND fight all the crime in New York. And I'm like, for real? You gotta be kidding me. I'm Casey JONES, know what I'm saying? I can do it all."

Reaching a hand through the door, Casey attempts to shake the hands of April's relatives. They both recoil.

April was the last line of defense between her cousin(s) and Casey. It made her more than a little nervous, its not that she… minded… them seeing / knowing Casey, its that she knew her Cousin would find a way to make a joke out of it and JUDGE April for having a 'frined' like him. Her cousin always took shots at her, since they were kids…. she hated it abou ther, but her side of the family was the last bit of family April even had alive now.

The young redheaded news reporter started laughing at what Casey said while reaching out to shove at his left shoulder with her right hand. "He's a method actor." She said to Mr. and Mrs. Lawyer. "At the local theater… He really dives into his roles, yeah?!" She laughed some more.

The both of them did indeed ignore Casey's offered hand as he had, blood, on it… and they both saw it. April saw it too, through those black framed glasses sitting on her small nose.

"Fake blood too!?" She laughed nervously some more. "Casey, you silly rube!" She shoved him again (hard!).

The Lawyers both started to step out of the apartment then, lead by April's cousin. "Well, I guess Stewart and I should be headed back. We have a long drive ahead of us to get back to Mass afterall." She said with a sly 'knowing' smile, clearly not buying a word of what her newsie cousin had just said.

"Thanks for the dinner, April." Stewart offered though. "And… it was good, to, meet you… Mr. Jones." The portley lawyer said to the Vigilante.

"Okay, well… uh… messag eme on Facebook when you get home!" April said to the two of them as they started to go toward those stairs down to the store…

"Good for you guys. I bet if more people started going to Mass every Sunday, the world wouldn't be in such a…" And… they're gone. It's as good a time as any for Casey to tilt the hockey mask back on his head and reveal his slightly-pummeled face. After all, he can't go around letting everyone see his secret identity, right?

"Not that I go to Mass either. My family's like, Presbularian I think. So we only go to church on Christmas. Unless my dad's too drunk."

For most people, this might be considered a bit of an overshare. But Casey says it matter of factly, as if all the Presbularians in New York City attend church only one day a year, barring drunken relatives.

April was waving to her cousin(s) while Casey was talking and they were ignoring what he was saying. Once they were gone, April lowered her waving hand, she looked over and up at him when he showed off his secret identity and she slapped him on the chest with the back of her hand (softly, at least this time).

"Massachusetts, dummie." She said at him with a heavy sigh / exhale. The redhead turned toward her open apartment door and went inside. She was on her way back toward the kitchen to finish cleaning things up.

Admitedly, she was glad that he came over and effectively ridded her of those two people… she hated being around them. But she probably wouldn't afford Casey that knowledge, because he might lord it over her like hw as a 'big damn hero' or something.

"Are you hurt?" She asked from the kitchen. "I'm not sure if I want that blood on you to be your blood or someone else's blood."

The reporter crouched down and pulled a red bag - first aid kit out from under her sink, setting it on the counter now she started to root through it.

"Just who exactly did you beat on tonight and please tell me they really did deserve it?"

"This? It's nothing, sweetheart. Just a couple o' punks who thought they wanted a piece of the ol' Case, know what I'm saying?"

It's an attempt at humblebagging that lands about as well as all of his attempts at humblebragging. It requires a certain amount of subtlety which Casey simply doesn't possess.

He winces though when April taps him on the chest. Maybe some of the blood is his after all…

"I actually came by 'cause I wanted to ask you something. You know, serious superhero stuff."

April grabbed the items she needed out of the medical bag and then left it open on the counter and walked back over to him while he talked. "Uh huh…" She sounded a little distracted. "Sit." She ordered him at the small kitchen table just inside the archway of her kitchen room.

She would seat herself as well and start working on his hand, cleaning it and bandaging it. "Don't we have to have super powers in order for us to referr to ourselves as 'super' heroes, Casey?" She asked him, not looking up to him.

She moved on to a different wound, sparing a motion of her right hand to go up and swipe a dangling strand of fire-red hair out of her face and back behind her right ear.

"I mean, not that you're not out there doing good work that the police are too afraid of… but still…" Her head shook. "One of these nights, you're going to get shot or something and I'm not going to find out until like the next day… if even then." Was she worried about him? Probably. Okay, yes. She fussed over him more than she did the Turtles even.

"Aw man… I don't have time for… fine." Casey puts up just enough protestation to preserve his Man Points, but either he doesn't feel like arguing with April, or he seriously needs something Band-Aided.

Sitting with the chair turned around backward, Casey barely winces while he's tended to. He may not be an actual superhero, but at least he's tough.

"Maybe you should ask your boy Shredder if I'm a superhero or not. He was all 'Waaaah! Don't smush me up!' and I was all 'Damn straight! I'm Casey JONES! Goongala!'" Reciting his one heroic exploit makes Casey flex reflexively, which undoubtedly makes him harder to patch up.

"Which is why I had ta come see you and shit. Trying to pimp my golf bag a little bit more, and I need a lathe. Do you… uh… have one?"

April's eyes were down as she continued to fix both of his hands. She smirked at what he was saying and gently shook her head at his memory of it all. "I was there, you know, when you pulled that lever." She glanced up at him, her blue eyes peering out the tops of those black rimmed glasses. "I'm pretty sure all you said was 'Oops'." She then looked back down at his hands, each cut finger getting cleaned and band-aided in Looney Toons band=aides, tightly wrapped and perfectly placed. How motherly of her.

"A lathe?" She then asked him, confusion ripe in her voice. "Like what you… make table legs with or baseball bats?" Her head shooke side to side, strands of fire-red hair shaking around her face. "I don't have anything like that. The tables downstairs all already have legs, Casey."

She finished bandaging his hands then and looked up at him. "You know who might though? Misses Copelli's husband next door. He has a workshop in their basement. He used to make all kinds of furniture back in the Nineties, until he was in that car accident."

"Blah. I remember it differently."

Casey fidgets a bit in his chair, jostling the contents of his golf bag a bit. His various instruments of bludgeoning are packed pretty sparsely, which makes it easy to grab stuff, but also makes things rattle around loudly.

"I don't wanna involve anybody else in my one-man war on crime. If anybody found out my real identity, my enemies could use that to like… ruin my shit, you know what I'm saying?" Somebody's been paying attention in Superhero 101…

"So I'll just use a chisel or something. I decided to make one of my bats all pointy in case I run into any vampires."

April sat back in her chair when he said this and her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. "Vampires?" She repeated and then sighed. Her right hand went up and she took hold of her glases and pulled them off of her face and set them down upon the table's surface, staring at him now with unblocked eyes.

"Casey, if you go and stab someone with a… spear… that isn't a Vampire, I think you might get yourself thrown into a very serious jail… with very large men, who might try to stab -you- with spears." April made a funny! a gross funny, but a funny.

She sighed and shook her head. "I think it would be best if you stuck with just roughing people up and using fear as your main weapon." A short pause and she sat forward in her chair again. "You are doing good out there… this neighborhood -has- gotten safer because of you. But if you keep upping your 'level' of vigilantism… you're going to bite off more than you can chew."

"Damn straight it's safer. Nobody's put grafiti on the bus stop near my house all week." Casey says 'his house', but he really means 'his parents' house'.

He sits a bit straighter in his chair, again trying to look heroic and/or emphasize his muscles. It might look better if he didn't have a Tweety Bird Band-Aid above his eye. "And that's why I gotta keep doing what I do. The cops don't give a shit about all the grafiti, and the littering, or the kids smoking pot. Speaking of which, I'm gonna do a stakeout at the elementary school on Monday and make sure the kids aren't smoking any pot. If you play your cards right I'll let you tag along."

April had chosen the bandaids very carefully when she'd placed them on him, picking her favorites to help accentuate him and make him look more adorable. Tweety Bird included, as he was her dearest of them all!

"Casey." April exhaled again. "You have to realize that a man of your age… hanging around a school… with a bag full of weapons, might, just, put, some people on edge if they were to catch you. You could very well land yourself in jail for a long time, in fact. You know how crazy this world is. Even just walking past a school these days can get you looked at funny."

April stood up then and she walked to her old-style fridge with the rounded top and the old-style pull metal handle on the side. She popped the fridge open and grabbed two bottles of beer. She walked one over to him and sat it down in front of him.

Sitting back in her chair she opened hers and set the cap on the table. "I'll go with you, but we can't have any weapons on us. We have to just look like… we're not, creepers. Or something." She took a drink from the beer then.


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