Dumpster Diving

Dumpster Diving
Participants Mavis & Widget	20 October, 2019 Mavis happens along Widget in the midst of dumpster diving and decides to make friends with the little criminal. Birds of a feather and all.
Location
It's pretty awful out today. It's cold, going to get colder, cloudy and going to get cloudier, and rain is almost assured. The cold, drizzly, awful rain that makes everything clammy and gross. Really, the only reason someone would be out was if they had a really good reason. Or if they were Widget, a few reasons. All those dumpsters? Free stuff. /Good/ free stuff. Packaging material, metal components, ink and paint, food and drink, cloth and tailoring supplies, this little stretch of rust and oil-slick water was perfect for her. A place where one can really make a day of it. Being a weird trash goblin has it's perks, mostly that one can blend in a bit. The only real sign she's there in the bin next to the Union Bar is the ajar lid and the quiet clicking of glass. Oh no wait, there's a small cackle of glee rising from it. Mavis has some knitted, fingerless gloves on her hands and her hands are shoved into the pocket of the hoodie she wears. Due to the chilly weather, Mavis has drawn up the hood and pulled the drawstrings to snug it tightly around her head. She wasn't used to this sort of weather, really. The human is on foot, her feet clad sturdily in scuffed, black boots with mis-matched shoelaces. She trods along, shoulders high and chin tucked, trying to keep her body heat from escaping her. For the most part, Mavis minds her own business, there's an earbud plugged into one ear with the wire hanging down and leading into her left pocket, wherein it's attached to her phone. The other earbud is tucked into the collar of her t-shirt, just visible under her hoodie. As for minding her own business, that begins to waver the moment Widget comes into sight. The dusky-skinned mortal slows and then stops with a look cast back down the street then up it again to check for other pedestrians about. She jumps a little when the young woman rummaging through the trash lets out a cackle of glee, then suppresses a giggle herself as she spies the gems Widget has plucked from the rubbish. Clearing her throat to announce herself, Mavis rolls her eyes and slies to Widget, "For some of the metal scraps and paint, I'll help you carry this stuff. Plus, I noticed you didn't have anyone looking out." She tries to sound polite about pointing that out, raising her black eyebrows and smiling mischievously. Widget hides reflexingly, dumspter lid smacking down before it creeps back up. The eyes peering back at Mavis are...not quite there. A little hunted, nervous, bvbut tinged with enjoyment. This might be a requirement to survive but it might just be fun. Both? Could be both. The head rises up more with the offer of trade, exposing a latina in desperate need of a meal. That's obvious just from her face, but her teeth need filing and she's just...skinny, And not too large, judging by the size of her head. "Trade?" Yup, mexican accent, voice high and fast. "Yes? Yes. Okay." Hmmmm... Peeering.... Mavis bites back a snicker when the subject of her curiosity sinks down into the dumpster, clattering the lid shut. She peers ever so tentatively back when the lid rises back up again and a tanned face appears. All in all, the human investigating Widget's thievery appears rather harmless. She slowly takes her hands out of her pockets to shrug. Many rings band the fingers of both hands, mis-matched, and her knitted glove are different shades. One's deep purple, the other is a ruddy shade of burgundy. Mavis pauses her music and pulls the earbud from her ear, hanging it with the other at her t-shirt collar. "Cool," she says, conversationally, turning around take stock of the street. "My name's Mavis," she offers in a voice that was... a little vacant of discernible accent, very much American, though, and certainly friendly. "I figure with the two of us, it cuts down the chances of gettin' busted by the policia," she glances back and winks, "and you'll be able to haul more. Got a car 'round here?" The human wanted to know where their next move was to. Widget slides out of the dumpster, head cocking as she takes in the other woman. Widget herself is not very impressive in any sense, short, thin, shoeless, wearing what looks to be an ancient mechanic's coverall. Like, from the 40's. It's about as clean as the rest of her, which is horrific. Like a walking industrial accident, is this one. "Look neat. Yes. Live everywhere. Sooo...follow!" Tossing Mavis a bag-o-loot, Widget scuttles off with one of her own, looking back to check. Mavis tilts her head right back at Widget when she climbs out of the dumpster and scrutinizes her. The mortal raises her eyebrows in silent question and smiles faintly, wondering if she has passed the scavenger's test. In the next moment, however, Widget is tossing her a bag. It thunks into Mavis' chest and her arms curl around it, not quite "catching" the loot but she doesn't fumble it either. Her impromptu partner in crime scurries off and Mavis shoots a final look up the street the way she'd come and back down it the way she'd meant to go, then darts off after Widget. Widget heads southeast toward the industrial district. Mavis heads southeast toward the industrial district. Mavis comes in from the industrial district. Widget walks weird. Like, there's nothing wrong with her mechanics or anything, but the how of it is undeniably off. The girl is moving like she expects to be shanked at any moment, low and quick, eyes darting, hands close to pockets, keeping one wall on her side at all times, etc. Probably just a hard life, right? Right. Since Mavis can see her for what she is, there are scars. A lot of scars. Small ones, yes, faded to boot, but if her hands and neck are anything to go by, Widget has been at this a while. Protectively keeping near Mavis, the girl pauses at what looks to be an old storm drain. It's quite here, dim from the overpass rumbling above them, plants long since dying in the dark. Brown and flat and jagged at all the same time. /Somebody/ has left a little mark on it, a smudge of orange paint on the bars. "In here. Yes. Quick." Mavis finds a more comfortable way to hold the bag that Widget has delegated to her as she prowls along after the short, tanned-skinned woman. The mortal more or less allows for Widget to set the pace of their escape, shuffling her steps to hurry along when need be, but mostly maintaining a brisk walk. She pulls her phone out of her hoodie pocket to check the time, then stuffs it back in with a glance over at Widget. The woman had she has found herself allies in arms with has.. an odd look about her with her dated clothes, furtive mannerisms that made her seem more than a bit paranoid. Additionally, Mavis can't help but notice the scars pale against Widget's tanned skin, but she tries not to get caught peering too curiously at them. She follows Widget along, not bothering to make conversation. It didn't seem prudent to distract Widget right now from whatever she'd signed up for. What she'd signed up for turns out to be... spelunking through a storm drain? Noo-ope. Mavis peers into it uncertainly then shoots Widget a mild, bewildered stare. "You want me," she says, sounding doubtful, and pointing at herself, "to go in there? Look," says Mavis levelly, setting the bag she'd hauled all of the way here on the ground, "if you want my cellphone and wallet-- just... Here," Mavis actually digs her phone and wallet, flipping it open to remove her ID card, out of her pockets, "take 'em. I don't want to get shanked in there and you don't have to cut me to take my stuff." Widget pauses, head listing to the side when Mavis assumes she's going to be robbed. The gremlin giggles quietly. Cackling? Yeah, that's a cackle. She looks happy to get the phone and wallet, but stops when the woman mentions getting cut. Oh. Well, no, she's not getting cut!. "Tunnels go /everywhere/. Good for travel! Yes. Old and filled with old stuff. Forgotten stuff. Yes. And bugs." And other stuff because she hasn't /really/ made sure they're safe yet but...eh. Right that was clearly the explanation needed. Just gotta haul these...these bars...wow okay just really gotta put the back in and... "...Okay. Um." Damn, she thought she oiled those. "Wallet? Phone? Can have? Yes?" In her head that's an offer. Phone and waller is traded for sack-o-shinies and a lovely tour of moldy old tunnels probably filled with orcs or something. Yeah. That was fair. Mavis was so nice. "Bugs?" The human doesn't sound too thrilled about that idea and she shakes her head slowly while Widget finishes selling her idea of going into the storm drain. Mavis squints at Widget with her honey-brown eyes, trying to figure out if the woman is serious or seriously touched in the head. She then slowly puts her ID back in her wallet before putting both wallet and phone back in her pockets. In a wink, all of Mavis' seriousness vanishes and she bites down on a smile. The gap between her incisors peeks out from the crescent of Mavis' earnest grin then she unbites her lip to say to Widget, "No, no, I think I'll keep 'em. I couldn't be sure if you were going to rob me til I checked, y'know?" She looks sheepish enough to apologize, glancing down at her feet and turning her toes inwards a bit, but the words never actually leave Mavis' mouth. "How about this," she tells Widget, "I'll take ya out for some grub. Could use the company, I bet you can tell me all kinds of neat stuff about this town." The artist peeks at Widget's slight frame, noticing it not for the first time. So thin. She muses aloud, "Althouuugh... One phone is hardly worth one meal.. so, to be fair, if you let me keep my stuff, I'll treat ya to breakfast once a week for the next-- Hmm, twelve? Yeah, twelve. That's three months, but I don't want to go into that drain.. Sorry." Widget just laughs. It's good-natured, a little manic but nice all the same. The gremlin has seen people get robbed and she's stolen a bunch of stuff but actual armed robbery is one of the things she hasn't done. She's too easily punted for that. And then Mavis mentions food and every other thought in Widget's head /stops/. She straightens, fidgeting excitedly. "Can do that! Can tell you lots of things! About everyone! Yes." Just give her the f- "Three...months?" Mavis might could've said Widget won a new car and it was made of bullets that were also small bombs. So the woman gets a hug! A greasy, rusty, weird hug. There are stains. Mavis laughs, too, when she sees that her offer has gone over well. The woman she'd come across ferreting through the dumpster looks to be desperately in need of a few meals. She doesn't see the hug coming, it takes the mortal by surprise and Mavis goes stiff before a laugh bubbles up in her throat. It's a wholesome sound. Honest. Slender, sleeved arms wrap around Widget's shoulders and she gives her small frame a gentle squeeze, afraid that she might break her. The human is warm and smells of almonds and some kind of mechanic grease. "Yeah, three months," confirms Mavis, loosening her arms to end the hug whenever Widget felt comfortable. "Hell, I paid for my phone for a lot longer than three months, an' sides, I don't like eating alone." Mavis grins a little impishly. "Plus, I didn't say we'd strictly be eating out at restaurants or cafes. I know how to cook." Some. Enough, anyway. It's around now that Mavis looks down at herself and notices the dark stain pressed into the cloth of her clothes. Her brows furrow and she looks perplexed, trying to brush it off. "Huh, musta got something on me back there." Widget's a good hugger. There's no holding back, no judgement, she's just really happy someone let her do it. It shows in her smile, impish as can be and a tad pointy too. It's less of the original expression of 'bite human' and more smiling enough to expose everything. Sure, she clings too much. Sure, she smells Mavis for some reason. Sure, there's...that totally natural and entirely accidental stain. From the alley. Obviously. But Mavis, for the duration of that hug, was the best person ever. "Can cook? Cook what?" Widget hauls up the second bag, looking like an undersized sherpa. Huh. Must be trained in it. Ready to go, though. Mavis gives up trying to get that weird stain off of her hoodie. It was soaked in and now she has it on her hands, which she wipes off on the sides of her jeans. "Oh well," she goes, sighing, and shaking her head ruefully. "Mebbe Amity will be able to get the stain out." She looks back at Widget, putting the whole ruined clothes thing out of her mind. They were just clothes, after all, and she got those dirty all of the time. At the eager questions, Mavis giggles and modestly admits, "I can cook eggs, uhm.. lasagna, chicken wings. A few things, but you can't really have that stuff for breakfast. So, eggs.. annd bacon? I always burn my pancakes, but we can try." "Oh, know Amity?" Widget blinks, circling Mavis to look at her better. "Oh! Yes! Talked about you! Yes. Okay." Well, that's that trust issue gone. Widget is down for following MAvis anywhere. And she might even let her know first! "Any food is breakfast in the morning. Yes. So yes. Pancakes are nice. Maybe cook for you too?" "Wait," blurts Mavis, snapping her head up, and blinking at Widget. "You know Amity?" That was the second stranger she'd bumped into in this town who knew her roommate. "Amity Millikan? Few inches taller than me, but scrawny and wears big glasses?" It couldn't be the one and the SAME... Could it? Mavis could swear that Amity had mentioned she didn't know anyone in this town.. or maybe that's just something Mavis has been assuming all along. She's a little preoccupied in thought when Widget offers to cook for her in return. Mavis blinks and gives a small jolt like someone who'd just woken up from a brief nap and it takes her a moment to recall what Widget had been saying. "Oh, well.." Mavis isn't sure about letting the grimy woman cook for her. "I'm supposed to be doing this for /you/ and your job is to just keep me company, remember? Although, you can help me get better at my cooking, too, if you really want to pay me back. I'm sure we can figure out something, I bet yer good at lots of stuff." "Yes!" Widget hops, face bright. "Looks like that. Sad face? Quiet? Likes girls? Does stuff for people a lot?" Not waiting for confirmation, the gremlin looks proud she made a connection for once. Aw yeah, moving up in the world. "Yes! Friends with her! Very nice." And Widget /is/ good at a lot of stuff. More pride, flattered and entirely willing to show Mavis she can do lots of cool stuff. "Machines and stuff. Yes. Like metal and fuel and cars and have a whole junkyard. Yes. Lots of scrap. Nice bay. Decent tooling." So she either owns a business or has managed to reliably break in. Or worse "Can cook meat. Like meat?." Sad face? "Yup." Quiet. "Uh-huh, that's her." Likes girls?! Well, Mavis knew /that/ but how did Widget know this about Amity also? It'd taken the mortal a lot of mixed signal deciphering to figure that out for a certainty on her own. Instead, Mavis just makes a sour face and says, "Yeah, Amity's always helping folks out. Watching Widget for reaction, Mavis adds, "We're living together." Pause. "I mean, we're roommates right now while I get my house ready to live in." She smiles, showing her teeth, and trying to feel pleasant while she was actually quite perplexed by Amity's secret social life. She /never/ mentioned any of these people and now Mavis is staring at Widget like she's the clue to some puzzle that she was missing. "Yeah, I like meat." Something dawns on her. "Wait- Is your name Widget? Widget nods along. Yes, yes, she knew that. "Did ask. Not partners! Yes. Got real red, though. Yes." It's probably good Widget doesn't care to read into anything outside of stating what she's seen. Amity got red. Yup. "Meat is neat. Yes." Tiny giggle at her own terrible pun, followed by more glee. "Yes! Am Widget! Talk about me?" Mavis' black brows furrow again and she studies Widget with her light, brown eyes while the woman talks. Her curt manner of speaking left Mavis to fill in the blanks, but she got the gist of what the junk-hoarder was talking about and that Amity flushes when her name comes up. Well, that makes Mavis feel a little bit better. It's not so much that she's /jealous/ or anything, but the mortal didn't like the thought of her friend keeping secrets. This wasn't that... Amity had just forgotten to mention Widget and Nathania, that's all. Her attention snaps back to Widget when the woman giggles and asks her how Mavis knows of her. She looks unsure, not about her answer, but the source then tells Widget, "Your.. relative? Uncle, I think he said." Mavis' cheeks tint a ruddy shade of pink. "Mister Logan?" "Carter! Yes! Old and rich and makes everyone go- that!" Widget points at the color creeping onto Mavis's cheeks. "But very nice. Ask him to sing or play sometime. Will like it a lot. Yes." The imp nods sagely, humming quietly to herself before piping back up. "Amity is doing good. Made friends with Nat too. Ate at the diner. Together Yes." Widget is feeling super-helpful right now. So much good info, right? Worth a meal or two, surely. "Pbft," Mavis articulates, turning a deeper shade of THAT color when THAT color is pointed out by Widget. "What, I'm not-" Then she shuts up because it seems that trying to deny the situation only made her ears burn to the very tips of them. Besides, Widget was still talking and telling her interesting things that she didn't know. Like Amity had gone out to a dinner? Huh, she never mentioned that. Not that her housemate HAD to tell Mavis things, Mavis didn't keep tabs on Amity or anything, but isn't it odd that her so-called best friend hadn't mentioned anything about meeting anyone or having dinner with them? It makes the mortal wonder what else her friend might be hiding, then she feels guilty for letting herself think that. She didn't even /know/ if Amity /was/ hiding anything at all. Stop it, Mavis. "I might ask him to play sometime," she says to Widget, although Mavis wasn't sure that was a thing she should do. Something about that Logan fellow made her wary, but he was right about his niece. Mavis would definitely like her and she does. She smiles at Widget, trying not to think about how much the woman /knows/ that she doesn't and resists the temptation to go rooting around in that head of hers. "Thank you, Widget, it was really nice to meet you.. Can I give you my phone number?" She wasn't sure if Widget had a phone, but Carter did tell her that Widget ran a business. A junkyard, actually, which was of a keen interest to Mavis. "That way you can call me or text and we can plan a good time for meals, I can tell you where I'm staying. I really should be going.. Amity was expecting me home," she checks the time on her phone, "46 minutes ago." Widget cackles again. This one is...impish. Truly. It's enough to prickle the skin, hitting the ears like it's not a tone from a proper human. But it's over quick, the girl taking out her cracked smartphone to enter the number. Time for swap. Here's her cellphone number and the yard phone isn't working yet but here's a test and eeeee it made the text noise. Phones were so /small/ now! "Okay! Nice meeting you. Will show you more stuff. Lots more. Try looking up. Sometimes. Nobody ever does. No. Yes." Widget flashes her fangs, finally wrenching the bars free. It's only a few seconds before she's gone, muffled clinking of her loot fading into the dark of the abandoned tunnel. Mavis gives over her phone number and shoots Widget a text, waiting for it to go through to make sure that the woman had her number. "Aha, there we go," she chimes, smiling happily, although there's worry hidden in the mortal's eyes about her friend, Amity, keeping things from her. She couldn't puzzle out why Amity would do something like that. "I'll see you later, yes. Now I've got your number, too, so if you don't text me then I can text you," she promises, sounding sincere. Mavis waves farewell to the Changeling, laughing and shaking her head when Widget removes the bars and enters the storm drain. When she's out of sight, Mavis shoots her Widget a quick text that just says, "Hi!", then picks up the bag of stuff Widget had foraged out of the dumpster before she goes.