View source for Logs:Light is sweet, and it is pleasant for the eyes to see the sun.

{{ Logs
| cast = [[DJ]], [[Leo]], [[Lumin]]
| summary = "I think living in a world like this involves a constant calculation of how ''much'' chicken we want to play."
| gamedate = 2024-06-10
| gamedatename = 
| subtitle = 
| location = <NYC> [[Tompkins Square Park]] - East Village
| categories = DJ, Leo, Lumin, Tompkins Square Park, Mutants
| log = 

Small but popular, this tree-lined park is a perfect centerpiece to the eclectic neighborhood it resides in. Home to a number of playgrounds and courts from handball to basketball, it also houses a dog park and chess tables, providing excellent space for people watching -- especially during its frequent and often eccentric festivals, from Wigstock to its yearly Allen Ginsberg tribute Howl festival.

It’s a beautiful Monday, it’s warm but not too warm, with a slight breeze to cool those playing a round of basketball, or those seated out in the sun from needing to shift into the shade after too long. 
There’s a group of college age kids playing with their dogs at the dog park, a small group of women meeting for a book club chatting around a park bench. 

Lumin was, currently, lounging in the center of the park where the lining of trees couldn’t cast a shadow. They’d pushed it a little too far this time without light for too long, movements turning dangerously too slow and stiff to be comfortable, and made a beeline for topside with a bottle of windex, and seated themself on any soft patch of grass they could find.  
Their glass skin is somewhat dirty, some small cracks filled with moss they haven’t bothered to scrape out yet. Part of their left ear is missing, but other than that they seem mostly in one piece. They spray with the windex on their arm like one in their current position might be applying sunscreen, and wipe it down with a towel. The sun beams through the cleaned glass and throws various rainbows scattered across the grass. 

The book club has probably been leaning in and whispering none too quietly to one another, sending glances. Lumin looks over warily, but they don’t move from where they’re sat yet—mainly because they don’t think they’d have the energy to quite yet.

Lumin is probably about to be rescued from at least a ''small'' portion of the uncomfortable staring -- mainly because a segment of it has shifted away, turned into outright ''horrified'' looks at the pair strolling through the park. There is ''definitely'' a furtive 911 call or two, despite the fact that the pair of cops already here (they're looming menacingly near a small cluster of tents erected along the Seventh Street side of the park, for no real apparent reason aside from making the people living there vaguely uneasy) have definitely Been Informed.

It's ''probably'' not DJ drawing this attention, but he is observing it with a reflexive hypervigilance. Aside from the quick dart of his eyes he's fairly casual, one hand (the colorful one) in his pocket, his other holding a large cup of horchata that he's sipping slowly. He's dressed bland and neat, light blue long-sleeved dress shirt and dark slacks, Mendel Clinic badge clipped to his belt. "-- {''really'' be better if I could make that judgment in person,}" he's telling his companion, in Spanish. "{If it's privacy that's the issue we can work something out.}" The light fluttering over the grass catches his gaze. When he tracks it to its source his eyes get slightly wider; he drops them again quick. Then glances back up with a slight and curious furrow of his brow. "{Is that person} -- Windexing?"

Leo does not have a drink, and looks somewhat more ill at ease. It's ''not'' the stares, or the people calling the cops, or even the cops themselves. He's been walking a small but carefully measured distance from DJ, eyes turned ahead and not at his companion. Both his hands are in the pockets of his crisp, fitted jeans; he's also wearing a slim-fit vermilion button-down with a black mandarin collar, placket and black turn-up cuffs and black chelsea boots. When he does dart a small look to DJ it is tense and uncomfortable. His voice is quiet, carefully measured. "{It isn't just the privacy. It just -- might be safer to --}" He comes to an actual stop nearby Lumin's sunbathing spot, tilting his head small and quizzical. ''He'' directs his question, tentative and apologetic, to Lumin. "''Is'' that Windex?"

Lumin doesn’t stops their cleaning just yet, “Yes it is, although I think pledge tends to do a better jo-“ they turn and pause, taking in the two of them. Their eyes linger on DJ for a moment, but then Leo for even longer. Their eyes visibly dart around, taking stock of the extra attention being drawn, before landing back on the two of them. 
“Ah…a better job. It leaves less streaks I find, but windex works fine.” They continue, as if they’d never stopped. “I would offer you guys some but I’m not sure it would go over as well on either of you.” They smile.

"Pledge?" DJ is glancing to ''Leo'' at this, a quick side-eye ''is this true'' glance. "They make glass cleaner in this world?" He only sounds a ''little'' resigned at this Additional Bit of weirdness. He's pulling his other hand out of his pocket now, though. Turning the bright-painted (today, it's vivid red and purple, intricately textured like feathers) hand over thoughtfully and then rubbing a small smudge on the back of his hand against his pants. "Could probably use a bit of polish."

Leo's brows crease in consideration. "He comes from a world without glass." He is telling Lumin this with a quiet earnestness. His lips twitch up slightly as he says it, but the incipient smile drops away ''fast'' when he actually glances back at DJ. He looks at Lumin instead, and then at the bottle. "Thank you," he adds, very politely, "but I think I am a bit beyond Windex's help."

Lumin eyebrows raise suddenly at the sight of DJ’s hand, “Oh! Well please feel free to take a seat, there’s plenty left in here.” They pat the ground beside them, “I had something kind of like that- well the hand ''wasn’t'' attached but it is now, so not really similar I suppose. ” They shake the bottle to check how much is left, and offer it to DJ. "A world without glass--is that a way of saying you used to live in the woods or something?" They ask, amusement resonating in the odd ringing tone of their voice. 
They wince sympathetically at Leo’s comment, “Well, windex has fixed a lot of my problems in the past. Come join, Maybe the sun can help wash away some of those worries.” They offer with another pat on the ground.

"Oh! Yeah, it was -- pretty far from here." The hesitation before DJ sits is small -- miniscule by average human standards, eyes making one more quick sweep of the park. He does sit, though, and takes the bottle to spritz a light mist on his hand. Then frowning at it like he has not really thought this next step through. "-- Are your problems mostly smudge-related?"

Leo is much slower to move. He looks uncertainly at the ground where Lumin pats, and far more warily around the park. It's ultimately DJ that prompts him back into action. He shakes his head in amusement, digging a large microfiber glasses cloth out of a back pocket and offering it out. "I think a ''lot'' of problems in the world are smudge-related. On some level." His head tilts; he squints up at the sky for a moment. "Is the sun washing yours?"

Lumin considers and hums in agreement with Leo, "When things are messy, I can't think as well. I find sometimes you have to do some cleaning to be able to see the root of your problems. Then you can go about fixing them." They watch DJ's expression with a small, amused smile, "So a smudge is sometimes not just a smudge. Sometimes it indicates something bigger." 
They lean back on their palms, mimicking Leo's head tilt towards the sky, "Hmm..Well, it's helping some of them. Maybe not the ones I wish it would." 
They tilt their head lazily towards the two of them, "Speaking of problems, is this park going to be swarmed by police soon?" They ask, tone curious, unchanging from it's polite tune, "I think I would prefer not to be here when that happens."

"Are we speaking metaphorically? Sin is a stain on the human condition kind of smudge?" DJ's eyes widen slightly in surprise when Leo offers him the cloth. He takes it, wiping off his prosthetic hand thoroughly. He glances over toward the cops at the side of the park. Then to Leo. "I don't think it's ''very'' likely, but if they decide to try their luck today I can get you both out very fast. We aren't trying to interrupt your -- sun time, though."

"The very ''first'' smudge," Leo agrees. He takes his cloth back once DJ is done with it, folding it extremely precisely once and then again ito a smaller square. "Most police are just bullies. You can tell how much of a lie all the ''feared for his life'' claims are if you've ever watched how they act when they really do." Maybe by way of demonstration he's standing, unhurried as he heads closer to to the police. Though both their hands reflexively move to their holsters, neither one ''draws''; when he moves closer they're simply turning and (much more hurried) crossing the street. He picks up a stray McDonald's bag littering the ground beneath a bench, tosses it in the trash, slips back to his companions. He takes his seat again, casually. "-- Which ones ''do'' you want helped?"

Lumin laughs, "Ah. I quite literally find it stressful when things are disorganized. No metaphors here. But I do quite like the idea of '''the seven deadly smudges'''" They smile. "And no no you're not interrupting--I did invite you after all. I just wanted to know what to expect, it's good to know you've got us covered though. I don't move too fast at the moment, so it's appreciated." 
Their movements stiffen when Leo stands and begins walking over to the police, and they send DJ a nervous, questioning glance. Lumin shifts, alarmed, when their hands move to their holsters, and remains frozen in that position even as the two turn tail and run. Lumin very slowly relaxes again, as Leo rejoins them. "That's a fun party trick." They comment, but they don't sound like they're having much fun.
"Ah...I don't think those problems can be helped much. Although, the heart attack you just gave me might be moving up there for problems I'd like solved." They smile again, warily. "You two do that often? Play chicken with the police? I imagine you two win more than not."

DJ sips at his horchata, slow. He's nominally looking over towards several nearby sparrows fluffing themselves in a patch of dirt beneath a nearby tree, but watching Lumin's stark tension out of the corner of his eyes -- Leo himself he doesn't seem to pay much mind to, here. He's shaking his head when Leo returns. "My ''guess'' is it's probably more fun when the police don't care about you at all." He's turning his hand over, inspecting it like he's looking for future smudges. "If you're particularly worried about cops, slow moving and conspicuous I feel like you're playing chicken more than we are. Doubt the NYPD has ''any'' mutant too high up in their esteem right about now."

Leo is shaking his glasses cloth out again, mainly to begin refolding it just a ''little'' more precisely. "The world is ''really'' disorganized." His fingertip runs lightly along the pinked edge of the cloth. He lifts one eyebrow, his eyes darting to DJ's brightly colored hand. "What is winning?"

"That's ''hardly'' a fair compar-" Lumin begins, defensive, but quiets as they consider DJ's words, visibly rolling them through their brain again. "Hmm...I suppose you're right. I never thought about it that way." Their eyes are drawn to the way Leo begins refolding the cloth. They watch, pulling their knee under their chin to rest it on. Their movements might be noted as stiff or slow, like a jar of crystalized honey being warmed back up under hot water. "I think I figured winning would be if they were to run away first. But maybe that's still losing in this scenario."

"It wasn't a criticism. I think living in a world like this involves a constant calculation of how ''much'' chicken we want to play. We'd all stay holed up alone forever in a bunker if we didn't think the risk of getting sick or getting hit by a car was worth the tradeoff of having a life we actually enjoy." DJ glances back towards the cops, and his fingers squeeze a little tighter at his plastic cup. "I don't know if winning is a thing that exists, but I think the closer we get to that life, the closer we are."

"Yes, I think winning --" Leo looks ''almost'' like he is beginning to consider the idea of relaxing, once he's done folding the square again. He closes his hand around it, starts to sit a little more comfortably. In the process he's glanced again at DJ and the idea of relaxing suddenly does not seem so close; he's just a little tense once more, shaking the cloth out to start the process again. "-- it's a -- strange idea, isn't it? Maybe we'll be winning when we don't have to think so much about what that means." Now his gaze has been captured by some stray flecks of light, glimmering bright and multicolored and shifting against the grass when Lumin moves. "If you had a cat they would be the happiest cat."

Lumin hums at DJ’s comment, "Unfortunately, it's surprisingly easy to hole yourself up. Harder to crawl back out." They say, still idly watching Leo fold up the cloth. Their eyes do shift upwards to stare at Leo himself for a prolonged moment when he shakes the cloth out and begins again. 
“Well, look at us, a bunch of losers then.” They say sarcastically, abruptly out of sync with their previous politeness, “We’ll be winners one day. At the very least, I’d like to think we’re winning by being here, even if it’s a small win.” 

Their face shifts into confusion at Leo’s comment, “A cat? Why a-“ their eyes follow Leo’s gaze to the flecks of light and a laugh they can’t stop rings in their chest, “Y’know I haven’t heard that one before! I believe a friend of mine has a cat, now I’m thinking I should test it out.” They say, residual laughter still simmering in their speech.

"Mmm." DJ's eyes fix thoughtfully on Lumin. "Well, I'm glad to see you out here in the world today, then. I'd ''like'' to think we'll all be winners some day, I just -- hope we get to see it in this world and not just the next." He's looking back to the colorful light speckles on the grass, and smiling, bright. This prompts him now to remember the Windex bottle, returning it to Lumin's side though he's still watching the light show. "If you see them soon they'll get the brilliant freshly-shined experience, too."

Leo's eyes are moving sharply away, when Lumin's tone shifts. He looks back around the park again, and then down once more to the grass. "I'm sorry," low and diffident; it's hard to tell if he is apologizing for something he's ''said'' or just as a preemptive formality. Either way he's getting to his feet, head dipping in a small and polite note. "I should -- get back to --" What ''does'' an apocalypse horseman do in his time off. Who knows, but this one is just saying a quiet, "enjoy your afternoon. I hope the cat does, too." and starting to slip away.

Lumin takes their windex bottle back with a quick, “''Thank you,''” and slides it into their bag. “That’s true! Everyone gets to enjoy it then.”
A look of concern pinches at Lumin’s eyes at Leo’s apology. They stand, as well, though not as quickly. “Oh! Wait- Did it help?” They gesture up at the sun. “With the worries?”

DJ is on his feet quickly, giving a worried look to Leo as well. "I need to get back to work, but I'll be in touch about your friend," he tells the other man, then looks up at the sun. "You know," his smile is warm, "I think it just might have." He lifts his brows to Leo after this. "-- You need a lift before I go?"

"I don't know, yet." Leo is studying Lumin's slow rising with a small furrow between his brows. "Did it help you?" He's frozen after this -- just for a moment, hand clenching tight around the cloth he still holds. His eyes have gone a little wide, his jaw gone a little tight. He gives the others a smile -- small, too, also tight -- and shakes his head once. "I -- can find another ride." He swallows hard, and adds a stiff, "thank you," before turning and hurrying off.

Lumin's eyes track Leo as he leaves, their eyes narrowing once his back turns. They're quiet, before softly responding despite the asker no longer being there. "Yes. I think it did." They look to DJ, "Thank you both, for joining me. I hope...ah..." Their voice trails off. Their glass fingers tap one after the other against their own arm for a satisfying ''tink tink tink'' sound. 
"Are you two going to be alright?" They ask, genuine concern managing to breach their steady tone.

DJ is watching Leo hurry away with an evident worry in his expression. It fades, pushed back by a warm smile when he returns his attention to Lumin. "Oh! Thank you for inviting us. If you're ever looking for a quiet spot to get some sun, my neighborhood has a really lovely park. Low on humans staring, low on police. The Refuge over in Staten Island." His smile gets a little warmer at the tinks. "I hope you figure out something for the ''rest'' of your worries. Take care." He's meandering off considerably slower than Leo had, head tipped back to watch the birds flitting between the park trees.

"Oh- Thank you- I'll keep that in mind." Lumin says, confusion and concern at their unanswered question lingering in their voice. It takes Lumin a moment too long to return, "Yes- Take care." with a wave. They stare at DJ's retreating form, unmoving for a long while before they shake out their hands, and make a beeline for the comfort of the closest tunnel.

}}