View source for Logs:In Which an Evolve Customer Buys Something They Don’t Need, but Gets Something They Do for Free

{{ Logs
| cast = [[Lumin]], [[Taylor]]
| summary = “Y’know, I think I’ve decided I’m kinda sick of ''staring''.” (followed by [[Logs:In Which the Sewers of New York Get Some Cheerful New Light|meeting More-locks]].)
| gamedate = 2024-04-21
| gamedatename = 
| subtitle = 
| location = <NYC> [[Evolve Cafe]] - Lower East Side
| categories = 
| log = Lumin, Taylor, Evolve Cafe, Mutants, Morlocks

Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants.

The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play.

The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse.

It's a lull, or ''something'' of a lull, at the moment in the cafe -- at least, the tables are crowded but the ''line'' has finally been nearly winnowed down. Even if someone didn't already ''know'' this place was The Mutant Cafe there are definitely signs of it around the room -- for example that kid over there in the corner with small nubby horns peeking up from his close-cropped fro, an individual near the front whose coffee is stirring itself -- but for the ''most'' part this could almost (almost) be any one of a thousand hipster New York coffeeshops.

Almost. The harried barista behind the counter ''just'' finishing up with the last round of orders for the impatiently waiting customers would ''probably'' have a hard time getting hired most places -- Taylor (dressed bland in jeans and a tee shirt that reads "I am my ancestor's wildest dreams" in bold across the chest) is an ''immense'' man just on the face of it, well over 6' and burly-muscled, but far beyond that his ''jet''-black skin and the many (many) tentacles he has in addition to the more standard two arms are -- well, noticeable. He's busy ringing up the last person waiting in line while behind him, many of his long serpentine arms are industriously preparing Several Coffees at once. "-- Yo Tak," he's calling out over his shoulder to the closed kitchen door as he works, "after this I'm punching out fo ''real'' fo real."

Lumin Vitreous enters the cafe, the abundant light immediately reflecting and illuminating the already colorful surrounding surfaces as it passes through the stained glass that makes up their body. Those able to look past the hectic kaleidoscope of colors might notice their shoulders raised up in tension, and eyes that dart around the room. A ratty bag is slung over their shoulder, and they seem to be missing their left hand entirely. Where their left wrist begins is a hard cut off, sharp shards being all that remain. 

''Safe. Must be. Please. It's fine it's fine just act natural.'' 

They glance warily back out the door one last time, before wandering forward, like they're unsure where to place themselves around the bustling tables. They finally catch sight of the barista behind the counter, and they stare for a moment longer than what's polite. And then probably a moment more. 

''Yes. Finally.'' 

They make a beeline for the counter, nearly running into the final person in line, before abruptly stopping and waiting their turn.

If it makes them feel any better, the barista behind the counter is staring ''back'', eyes gone just a little wider as he catches the play of light glittering off of Lumin. He is, at least, quicker to catch himself, shaking his head and smiling bright: "-- you in the right place, friend, just a minute, yeah?" With an oddly balletic grace he's finishing up the line of drinks, calling two of them out and simply delivering the third by snaking an ''absurdly'' long arm sinuously through the room to deposit it on the table of a youth typing frantically at their laptop. He's turning his attention back to Lumin after this, chin tipping up in amiable upnod. "What I get fo yuh?"

Lumin nods mutely at their acknowledgment, mostly caught up in watching Taylor's tentacles snake throughout the room. At the question, they look back to Taylor and blink, as if a little caught off guard. 
"Oh- Right! Yes of course. I should. Order something. Right." They say, stilted. 
Their eyes scan the menu quickly. 

''Do they have rules against loitering? Probably. Just get the cheapest thing! Should have enough.'' 

They sift through their ratty drawstring bag, and pull out a couple dollars from a plastic bag. They finally return a smile. 
"Could I get a lemonade, please?"

"For sure. First time here? Feel like I'd ''remember'' you, yeah? I thought I seen errything, 'tween working here for years and the crews I run with but damn if the world of freaks don't keep turning up ''wild'' new surprises, you got a look all your own, huh?" Taylor is scooping out some ice, pouring a glass of lemonade while he talks, and as he offers across the counter he adds: "We ain't go no rules against loitering, though. Favorite pasttime of our regulars. And you ever hard up for a meal we got a whole arrangement worked out to handle that, too."

Lumin blinks, then laughs in surprise. Their voice has an odd ring to it, almost metallic, that’s only emphasized when they laugh. “So we’re acknowledging the elephants in the room? Thank ''god''. You’re like, part squid?…octopus? And you’ve got a million arms—and you’re calling ''me'' wild?” Most of the tension seems to have left their shoulders in an instant, and they lean against the counter, “I’m new-ish around here. I grew up in the city but ah….''left'' for a few years. Sorta. You know how it is.” They wince a bit, “When I heard about this place, beelined it here. It’s been a while, so I don’t really know the ''safe places''.” 

They hand over the money. “Good to know about the…loitering…though…” they trail off. 

''Did I…say anything about loitering?'' 

Their thoughts are interrupted as they take the lemonade with a quick “Thank you”, and they hold it in their hand. They don’t drink it. 

“Ah- apologies I shouldn’t hold you up while you’re working.” They add hastily.

Taylor makes Lumin their change quickly, and he's coming ''around'' the counter as he hands it back. "Nah you good, fam, I was ''supposed'' to clock out half an ''hour'' ago but we got a mad rush and I didn't wanna leave my boy hanging --"

He's briefly interrupting himself to look back at the kitchen door, ''like'' he's about to say something; though he doesn't speak aloud there's another young man (considerably more standard looking) hastening out of the kitchen as if called: "Hey yeah sorry I'm on it, you get out of here, man."

And with this reassurance that he has not ''fully'' abdicated his responsibility, Taylor is snaking one long arm around the display case to snag himself a croissant and then turning his attention back to Lumin. "Didn't say nothing. I hear thoughts. And yeah, wild like ''damn'' but that is an ''eye''-catching glow. I spend ''all'' my time with ''freak'' freaks and you still got my head turning. It's rad," he's saying this casually but going on immediately to acknowledge: "-- but ''probably'' ain't no help on the finding safe places front, huh? Where you been staying? -- I mean you don't gotta like, ''tell'' me tell me, but you got somewhere safe to rest yuh head? Can be tough."

Lumin, still being down a hand, quickly places the lemonade back down so they can take their change and put it away. Their head whips between the kitchen door and Taylor, but finally puts it together at his explanation. 

''He hears thoughts? Did I hear that right? If you're hearing this wink your right eye. Get out of my head! No shut up. It's fine it's fine.''

They shake their head, trying to focus on the rapid conversation, "Ah- Thank you I uh- well you're correct I don't really have...a place? I'm trying to find one, though. You know, you're probably the perfect person to ask about places to stay given your...squidliness? Sorry that was probably rude. Okay ''wait'' back it up! You hear thoughts? Sorry I'm still hung up on this." 

''What color am I thinking of! Elephant! That's not a color. That's embarrassing. In front of the cool telepath too.... I wonder if they can talk to other squids. What would a squid conversation even sound like.... crAP WAIT THEY CAN PROBABLY HEAR THIS SHUT UPSHUTUP''

Taylor's eyes widen -- and then he laughs, winking (his right eye!) with a quick tongue-click. "Elephant can be a color in yuh heart if you want. You seem like the ''expert'' on colors I sure ain't gonna argue. I don't talk to squids but one my homegirls, she hears all ''kinda'' sea life and says most fish boring as ''hell'' but I'onno how many cephalopods she gets to hang with, I ''bet'' they'd have something to say." He's ambling towards the door, but in the slow-casual way that suggests he's waiting for/hoping for company -- ''just'' in case though he's beckoning Lumin in invitation to follow. "I know half of ''errything'' 'bout being a freak in this city and always tryna learn more. And ain't rude if you ain't being rude. I don't mind how I look, I just mind when people's shitheads about it, you know? I ''like'' my arms they come in --" One of the smaller arms is wriggling idly. "Well, not ''handy''. -- what can I call you? I'm Taylor."

Lumin's eyes widen as they get the confirmation that they can indeed, hear people's thoughts. "That sounds...so cool." 

''And loud.'' 

They quickly follow Taylor at the invitation, "Yeah! Yeah, I get you. Or, at least sorta." They smile at the arm wriggling around, "Oh! Apologies, where are my manners. I'm Lumin, it's a pleasure to meet you Taylor." They go to stick out a hand to shake, which is currently holding the lemonade still, then go to stick out the other hand, which has a bunch of pointy glass shards instead of a hand, "GAh wait don't touch that-" They tuck the lemonade under their arm and stick out their now free hand, "There we go."

"Honestly, it's mostly annoying. I keep it tamped down on my off-times but, unfortunately, running a place like this, ''known'' to be welcoming to all us weirdos, we attract some'a the ''wrong'' sort. So when I'm out here, safest to keep a -- mental ear open, get a lil heads up on if someone's here to get a shot or get ''me'' shot." Taylor sounds oddly blase about the thought of people turning up to Evolve with murderous intent; ''hopefully'' it's a good bet that he's not hearing anything alarming from the ''current'' patrons, anyway. He takes Lumin's free hand with a spare arm, giving it a small shake.

Then he's heading for the door -- holding it open for Lumin -- though he only goes as far as the pleasant little outside patio, where he hitches himself up to sit on the railing that surrounds it. "Aiite so real talk. I know a ''nice'' place you can stay, mutant neighborhood way uptown, accommodations are swank but it's got ''hella'' bogs up in here -- uh," he's reconsidering this terminology after a quick assessment, "-- mutants who can pass as human, you know? They fine and all but keeping it real sometimes they gonna stare and get up in your business as much as any human does. I hang ''out'' in Freaktown plenty but where I actually ''sleep'' come night -- it ain't lux or nothing but it's ''all'' folks who gon' get it. Whole barrel of weirdos down my home. Can't beat it, if you can handle the sm --" Now he's taking a bite of his croissant and giving Lumin a curious glance. "Huh, ''can'' you smell?"

Lumen follows Taylor, and leans against the railing he sits on, tapping against the metal gently. “Smell? Uh…no. I suppose that’s convenient then.” 

They’re quiet as they consider. 

“Bogs huh?” They laugh, “Y’know, I think I’ve decided I’m kinda sick of ''staring''.” They shiver slightly. 

“If you wouldn’t mind showing me where all the, ah, ''weirdos who get it'' are, and you all don’t mind having me. Then, please, take me.” 

''Really gonna risk endangering all of them huh? Selfish selfish. Hey! Maybe it won’t be an issue if I don’t bring it up!…….Ah shit dude REALLY??? In front of the telepath?? GODDAMNi-''

Lumen face palms and winces, “Okay, fair warning…I…''do'' have people looking for me. Not very nice people. Is that gonna be a problem?”

Taylor curls an arm against his mouth, ''maybe'' to wipe off some of the croissant crumbs but maaaybe to hide the reflexive laugh that is trying to bubble up at Lumin's inner monologue, somewhat inappropriately given the Probably Upsetting subject matter but such is psionic life. "Shit, half of errybody in the Tunnels got ''some'' kinda past they don't want catching up with 'em. Good luck to anyone ''tryna'' get down there uninvited, place is a goddamn maze and the way to ''our'' home's guarded good. Folks tryna find us without a tour guide they ''not'' finna have a good time. Sorry 'bout your shitbags, though. Wish I could be surprised. Look the wrong way and you probably gonna pick up enemies just for ''existing''." His eyes flick sideways towards his colorful companion. "Just tell me you ain't got on the wrong side of, like, ''HAMMER'' or nothin, and we probably good. ''Last'' thing we need is them creepy ass bots scuttling through the sewers."

Lumin sags with relief. 

''Safe. Finally safe.'' 

“…Hammer? That..sounds familiar.” They tap their fingers against the railing some more, the glass ringing against the metal, “No, I should be HAMMER free, unless the folks looking for me were to call in a favor, which I don’t ''believe'' they have. Either way, it would be a bit of an extreme reaction on their part, even for them.” 

They tilt their head curiously up at Taylor, “You’re running from a past too, then?”

Taylor considers the question over his next bite of pastry, and finally shakes his head. He swipes at his teeth with his tongue, dropping a couple arms to each side of him on the railing to hold his balance. "''Got'' a past, but I ain't running. Tryna set up for having a future. Spent a lot of life thinking folks like us couldn't have none but I'on think that no more." He's quiet, just a moment, hesitating before he volunteers: "My moms been doing time since I was little, gone to prison defending me from some asshole didn't want a lil squid-monster running around his neighborhood. She getting out soon, though. ''Been'' tryna look out for other freaks the way she done look out for me, y'know? Like she got something to be proud of when she back in the world."

Lumin stills their tapping, narrowing their eyes slightly. 

''Damn. He actually gave me an answer.'' 

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry that happened. From the little I’ve spoken with you so far, it seems to me she’s already got a lot to be proud of.” 

They pause, “Thank you, for sharing that is. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I’m not used to people being so straight forward.”

"Seems only fair," Taylor says with a small laugh. He's polishing off the last of his croissant in a few hungry bites and then dusting his hands clean. "I hear everybody business like it or ''not'', least I can do is answer some questions straight sometimes." He's wiping his tongue across his teeth again -- then pulling his phone from his pocket to peer at his smile in the blank black screen and, ah, ''there'' now he's gotten that flake of pastry off. After that he's hopping down, clapping his hands together once. "Aiite. Y'wanna go meet some monsters, den?"

“Huh. Hadn’t thought about it like that.” 

Lumin steps back when he jumps down, “Never been more ready.” They say with a grin. 

They peek inside their bag to make sure it’s all situated, and close it up tight. “Is it challenging to get there? I’m ah, well—it’s a bit of a bull in a china shop situation—except ''i’m'' the china shop and everything else is the bull.” They sling their bag onto their back. “All this unfortunately isn’t just for show.” They tap their arm with a delicate ''tink tink'' sound.

Taylor considers this a moment, then just shrugs. "Only challenging if you don't know what yuh doing," he answers, light, and shoots Lumin a smile. "But you be good. I won't steer you wrong."
}}