Sometime late Friday evening there's a groaning of metal, as someone from 
 below starts to push up on the floor hatch.

Dillan's like, crashed out on the lower bunk, sprawled out as if having 
 collapsed after some very harrowing day. Or maybe more than one harrowing 
 day. At any rate, he's crashing here. There's some empty food containers 
 laying about, too.

Becca slowly gets the hatch shoved open, enough for her needs at least; it 
 makes a decent amount of racket as swings on the hinges and would probably be 
 loud enough to wake slumbering young Garou. Before she's even wiggled her way 
 up into the room she can tell there's a body sprawled out where it shouldn't 
 be. "Hey!"

Dillan's body is just fine where it is, thanks. He sits up quickly, banging 
 his head on the metal frame. "OW, fuck. Who the..." he mumbles, a hand 
 clamped over the soon-to-be bruise on his forehead.

Becca scrambles up quicker into the room, crouched next to the hatch set in 
 the floor and regarding Dillan with a general look of suspicion. The fact 
 that she made her way through the sewers to get here is evident not just from 
 the direction of arrival, but general look and smell as well. "What, does 
 this look like a public crashpad? This is fucking private property."

Blinded slightly by a stinging pain in the region of his brain, and a scent 
 that no-one ought to have to wake up to, Dillan's just a /tad/ confused. "Uh, 
 what? Fuck's sake, who the hell let the garbage in here." He squints at the 
 figure that's charged into his current crashpad. "Yo, biatch, just chill."

Becca stands up quickly, lucky in that she's not only awake but reasonably 
 sober this evening. "This is fucking private property," she says, tensely. "I 
 think I have the right to ask who the fuck you are to be down here. Get it, 
 prick?"

"I heard you the first damn time," retorts Dillan, swinging around to sit on 
 the edge of the bed, squinting at the intrusion upon his sleep. "'sides, I'm 
 well fucking aware of that fact. So go back to whatever hellhole you crawled 
 out of before I kick your ass."

Becca doesn't look too concerned from the threats, even as they come from 
 someone older, bigger, and male. There's a certain amount of self-assurance 
 here, fueled by growing anger at the turn this so-far conversation is taking. 
 "Fuck you," she says as she stands, pulling the hatch further open as she 
 does. "I ask you a simple fucking question, and you have to be rude. Why 
 don't you quit being a prick for a few seconds of your life, huh?"

Dillan, exasperated, just shakes his head. "Bite down. I ain't the one 
 interrupting someone else's badly-needed sleep patterns." He pushes off and 
 stands groggily, making a point to look down at the girl. "So politely take a 
 hike before I get seriously medeival."

Becca slips her hands down into the pockets on her jacket. The movement isn't 
 obvious, but anyone who's spent time out on the streets and is paying 
 attention could probably guess that it's not just a yo-yo she's loosely 
 fingering. "This place is claimed," she states, flatly. "If you're not smart 
 enough to find your own crashspace, maybe you should fucking ask someone. But 
 now all you've done is piss me off. What, you gonna beat up a younger girl, 
 tough guy?"

Dillan aims a finger at the source of his annoyed state, levelling it 
 accusingly at her. "Listen here. I know who's goddamned place it is, and i's 
 chill that I'm crashing here. So why don't you bug off?" He snorts, taking a 
 step forward, "And yeah, maybe I will kick your ass if you don't leave me the 
 fuck alone."

Becca trips, though only mentally, over part of Dillan's little rant. "Whoa 
 whoa, wait a fucking second, MTV Boy." She straightens her stance, which most 
 only coincidentally involve putting one foot behind her, back a half step at 
 Dillan's approach. "Who's telling you this shit about this being their place? 
 Whoever it is, they're fucking setting you up. Maybe you think tough guy 
 could beat up a girl, but you couldn't beat up everyone who thinks this is 
 their turf. And I *know* you didn't talk to them."

Dillan smirks, taking another step forward. "Duh. Cutter did. Go figure the 
 guy who owns the place bein' the one lettin' me stay." He stares at Becca as 
 if she were possibly one of the stupidest lifeforms in existance, finger 
 still levelled at her. ""So why don't you fuck off, 'cause I'm lookin' to 
 crash. Or do you have a big problem with that? Seems it don't take much to 
 piss you off."

Becca connects the name with a person, and finds a whole new direction to 
 focus her anger. "Like hell he 'owns' this fucking place!" she shouts, 
 forgetting for a second to back up in response to Dillan's forward advance. 
 "I kicked his ass out of her last month, and kept some of his shit for his 
 trouble. You've been set up, whoever the fuck you are. Cutter's just playing 
 fucking smart-ass games with you."

Dillan rolls his eyes in utter disbelief. "Yeah. Whatever. Like /Cutter/ is 
 gonna let some scummy little punk run him off. I think I'm lookin' at the 
 only person playin' any." He turns his hand around, the finger recently 
 pointing at Becca replaced with another finger, in an entirely different 
 gesture. "Now get. Last warning," he tacks on.

Becca is silent for a moment, just staring, fingering what's most probably a 
 gun of some flavor concealed in her jacket pocket. The movement now is easily 
 noted. "Yeah, whatever you fucking think, MTV Boy. I'd fucking shoot you 
 right here, but I don't want to mess up *my* crashspace." Despite the words, 
 she takes another step backwards which, in the cramped quarters down here, 
 puts her right next to the open hatch again.

Now Dillan may not be the brightest cookie around, but at least he's in an 
 environment he's used to these days. He fails quite totally to be impressed 
 by Becca's threats, waggling a finger in the air. "Ooo. Right. I'm sure of 
 it." He pauses a moment, then all of a sudden, jumps. He shouts at the top of 
 his lungs, a shrill scream (for a boy, anyways), right at Becca's face as he 
 leaps. He doesn't actually leap very far, or even really touch the girl. He's 
 simply being incredibly annoying, startling, and surprising all at once.

Becca has seen Dillan hanging around JJ, and now mentioning Cutter, so even if 
 she doesn't know him from jack she's got at least passing suspicions. It 
 takes her a half-second to respond to this but when she does it's moving 
 backwards, no more breath wasted on threats. She drops almost instantly into 
 a crouch that leaves her scrambling to retreat back down into the sewers.

Dillan snaps his fingers and shoves at Becca with a pair of fingers, prodding 
 her shoulder. "Fall down the fucking manhole already. That was no good." He 
 seems quite unconcerned that there's most like a handgun in her pocket. He 
 also lacks Becca's knowledge, having never seen her with anyone, nor does he 
 know she knows anyone. Go fig.

Becca is already well on her way into a retreat, one-on-one never being 
 optimal fight conditions. Dillan's push can't do much to speed an already 
 hasty descent, down into the sewers, leaving Dillan in possession of the 
 contested crashpad.

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