ArchivedLogs:Wake Up Call

Wake Up Call
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Eric, J.C.
In Absentia	2014-03-04 '
Location <NYC> Central Park North
Central Park North is slightly quieter than its southern counterpart, being further uptown and slightly out of the bustle of the City - insofar as one can escape the bustle of the City even here, in the acres of green and blue that make up Central Park. The reservoir is in the northern half, providing miles of jogging and biking trails along the clear water, as well as benches for people to sit and rest. The frigid cold that has returned to the city has thinned the park-going crowd considerably. Up along this one stretch of path by the reservoir the park is nearly deserted; currently, only two figures occupy a bench overlooking the water. Dusk is perched on the /back/ of the bench, booted feet resting on its seat. With a long heavy trenchcoat bundled over his wings and large sunglasses on his face he isn't as immediately recognizable as usual, though his sharply fanged smile is unobscured by the black and green scarf wound about his neck. He has a pair of gloves on his hands -- there's a top flap on them that folds up to /turn/ them into mittens, but these are both currently pinned back open to transform the gloves into a fingerless pair instead. Useful, because his hands are currently quite engaged in rapidfire signing with his companion. There's a cardboard hot dog tray on his lap, Italian sausage in it liberally sprinkled with peppers and onions and spicy mustard but barely touched. A tall steel thermos sits on the bench beside his feet, a few dents battered into its gunmetal-grey body. His companion is standing -- shorter, bundled warm in coat and scarf and hat, hood pulled up over her face, sunglasses on as well. Her gloves are just fingerless, no mitten-transformation; at first there isn't much particularly noticeable about her as she signs back to him in reply. Some offhand comment elicits a laugh, though, and the slender sharp fangs in her own mouth grow briefly visible. For once, Eric is in the park with no bike to be seen. Wrapped in a heavy winter jacket with a thick pair of gloves on, the police officer walks down the path with his hands tucked into his jacket pocket. Eyes downcast, his path weaves drunkenly as he moves to keep kicking a small pebble down the road. He doesn't notice the signing pair as he approaches immediately; he doesn't seem to be looking much at all at what's around him. But when one kick sends the pebble off into the grass, his eyes come up to follow it and land on the two figures. The two fanged people cause Eric to stop midway back to the stone. His eyes widen and he blinks several times before he raises a hand in a hello, smile briefly cracking over his face. "Hiya." Dusk doesn't immediately turn to greet Eric, occupied already with watching his companion. His head turns only during a lull in conversation, Eric reflected in his gaze as his sunglasses turn towards the officer. "Hard at work, I see." His tone is light; his hands move a moment after he speaks, echoing his spoken words in sign. His companion doesn't say anything to Eric -- well, maybe. She does sign something to Dusk that he answers quickly; afterwards the woman just falls silent, picking her own hot dog off the bench and lifting her hood a little bit more over her face as she eats it. Eric watches the hand movements with open curiosity, a small smile on his face. "Oh, I'm not workin' right now. You see a bike?" There's a little laugh in his voice as he gestures to the path behind him. "Just takin' a walk and tryin'ta get my thoughts in order. Ain't so easy for me." He taps the side of his head and winks at Dusk. Turning to Dusk's companion, Eric sticks out his hand and gives her a winning smile. "Hiya. I'm Eric, an old friend of Dusk's. S'good to meet'ya." he says, eyes searching the woman's face for some kind of recognition. Dusk's hands continue to move as Eric speaks; the woman watches, but then bows her head over another bite of food. She signs something quickly to Dusk, leaning in to peck him on the cheek before turning to slip off down the path. Dusk answers her with a crooked twitch of smile, but doesn't stop her leaving. He picks up his thermos, popping the lid open to take a long swig from it. "What's wrong with your thoughts? I usually just keep mine on my computer. Easier to organize that way. -- And you're not /that/ old," he adds lightly, "don't exaggerate." Eric blinks as the woman turns to leave and he watches her leave for several moments before he turns to Dusk with a raised eyebrow. "Somethin' I said?" he asks, spreading his hands with an apologetic shrug. "Didn't mean'ta interrupt." Eric shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head slowly. "Yeah, well. I ain't as good with computers as you, and writin' it down don't help me make decisions." He says, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and extending it towards the other man. "You want one?" he asks, as he takes one out to light. "I've been going through the fuckin' packs like water through a sieve." "Not a fan of cops," Dusk answers easily, light and unapologetic about this. He leans forward to pluck a cigarette out of the offered pack, slipping it between his lips. "What /does/ help you make decisions?" His brows lift slightly, as he leans in towards Eric's light in silent request for the flame. "-- What decisions, anyway?" The cigarette bobs between his lips as he talks. "Well, she doesn't have'ta worry about that for much longer, I think." Eric says, dryly, pulling out a lighter and leans forward to light Dusk's cigarette before handling his own. "What I'm gonna do for work after I get fired come the end'a the month." he says, shrugging his shoulders and giving the other man a sad look. "And if I can figure out some way t' keep my job. I ain't come up with anything." Dusk takes a long pull from the cigarette, eyes closing in momentary bliss before he exhales heavily. "Keep the uniform. Use it to be a cop-themed stripper instead," he advises with a quick curl of grin. Eric laughs and shakes his head at Dusk, grinning. "I don't think I'd make a very good stripper. Too easy to sleep with and not gettin' paid for it." he says, taking a matching pull on his cigarette and blowing a ring of smoke into the air. "I really like my job. I've wanted ta be a cop since I was a little kid. Moved up here when I got kicked off the force back home for bein' a mutant. But now, I don't have anywhere I can go to." "S'kinda shitty," Dusk allows, but he doesn't sound overly sympathetic about it. Perhaps elucidated in his following: "-- not really sure what you expected, though, the NYPD's been a bunch of jerkoff bigots since /way/ before registration. Was bound to come sooner or later, dude. I mean, it's kinda shitty but." He draws another puff of cigarette, smoke mingling with the white puff of condensation from his breath when he speaks again. "It's kinda like sticking your dick into a blender and then being surprised when /that/ ends badly. -- I'd suggest going somewhere not full of a bunch of bigoted thugs for your next job." Eric narrows his eyes at the other man and shrugs his shoulders. "Sure, I mean, there was a reason that I was hidin' it for so long. I knew I'd get canned if they found out, ya know? But that doesn't make it less shitty for me. I've always been a cop. That's what I'm good at. But now what?" "You're asking /me/ that, dude?" Dusk snorts, his thumb flicking hard at the end of his cigarette. "/Your/ fucking brothers shot /mine/ to death just for -- existing. Forgive me if I don't have a whole lot of sympathy. Or respect for the goddamn uniform. I've had my wings broken and been shot and beaten just for being out on the streets looking like I do. It's shitty," he says, with no small measure of incredulity, "for /you/? Wake the fuck /up/, bro, it's shitty for /all/ of us. And while you've been riding that goddamn bike it's /been/ shitty for all of us a long-ass time. Maybe this is your fucking /wake-up/ call. Take it as a chance to do something fucking /better/ with your life." Eric's fists clench at his sides, and his eyes flash angrily at the other man. "You think I don't know that? You think I don't see tha'fucking shit on shift?" He crosses his arms over his chest, the cigarette burning in his hand. "And how does me not bein' there to help temper things down help anyone? Certainly don't make the cops any less angry havin' me not around, and me not bein' on the force means more people'a get their heads kicked in, not less. Yeah, I ain't stopped all'a it, but I'm going'ta stop /less/ if I'm not a cop no more." "Yeah," Dusk exhales sharply, standing with a quick shake of his head and picking up his thermos to slip it into his pocket. He stubs the cigarette out, flicking it onto the ground. "Get the fuck /over/ yourself, Eric. You see it, I have to fucking /live/ it. Cry me a goddamn river that you finally have to wake the fuck up and live in the real world with the rest of us. Call me when you grow the hell up, yeah? It's like healing as fast as you do means you've never had to actually grow a goddamn spine." His hand curls tight around his hot dog carton as he turns aside to move back onto the path, the hunch in his trenchcoat shifting where his wings move restlessly. "Welcome to the reality the /rest/ of us have been living in forever. You gonna whine about it or you gonna fight back?" "How the fuck am I supposed'ta do that, Dusk?" Eric growls at the other man, stepping forward and putting his hand heavily on the other man's shoulder. "I was doin' my best to help by what I was doin'. How can I fight back against everyone?" he asks, tossing his hands in the air in exasperation. "Bigotry ain't a thing I can cuff or hit with a nightstick. You tell me to fight back - how?!" "You've got fists, don't you?" When Eric's hand clamps down on Dusk's shoulder the vampire whirls around, free hand clenched into a fist aimed straight for Eric's gut. It's less a punch and more a hard driving /shove/, pushing the other man back into a nearby light-post; Dusk's teeth clench, fangs bared up at the taller man. "Bigotry may be an idea but trust /me/, bigots /bleed/ just as much as anyone." Eric lets out a grunt, but he doesn't seem to be particularly put off by the other man as he leans back in, growling back at Dusk. "Just start hitting people on the street? That doesn't sound like it's going to particularly /help/ any view'a mutants," he says, eyes flashing at the vampire. "Yeah. Cuz there's /no/ fucking way to pinpoint who's out there doing harm besides just attacking random people in the street." Dusk drops his hand, taking a step back. "Jesus Christ, you really are as fucking dumb as your jock stereotype, aren't you." Eric rolls his eyes and shakes his head. "Ya know what I mean, Dusk. I mean, I ain't got any of those connections. All I can do is act on what I see in front of me, you know? I see what I see on the news, and that's 'bout it." He pauses for a second, and a wolfish smile tugs at his lips. "Though I can still get int'a the Homeland Security offices for the next couple'a weeks before they can me." Dusk takes another step back, tongue poking out to run slowly across his teeth. "Might have more connections than you know," he muses, slowly, his lips curling upwards. The tip of his tongue pokes against the pointy end of one fang. "Lord knows those Mutant Affairs offices are overdue for some trouble. You up for some fun, Eric?" Eric's grin is slow and predatory as he looks the other man up and down - admittedly, not as attractive a sight as normal with the heavy winter clothing on. "Ya know me, Dusk. I'm always up for some fun." He winks at the vampire and tilts his head to one side, studying him for a few minutes. "Yeah. If you know some people, I'd be up'fr something. But I'd prefer to keep my name outta it, ya know? Less people know, the better. I ain't been a cop for so long to end up gettin' caught for some stupid shit mistake I've seen some fuckin' skel make over'n over." Dusk lifts his hands, palms-out. "/I'm/ not stupid." The trenchcoat shifts again, wings twitching uncomfortably beneath it. He drops his hands to fold the mittens closed over the bare tips of his fingers, breath puffing out into the air. "Give me a bit, yeah? I'll be in touch." "Come visit. Don't call, yeah?" Eric reaches out a hand even as he lets his cigarette drop from his lips and crushes it beneath the heel of his boot. "And don't be a stranger neither. Ain't have to be for whatever for ya to come visit me neither." he says, eyes twinkling. "'Specially since I'm goin'ta have some free time on my hands soon." He glances around and then grins. "Maybe I'll go be a bouncer for Evolve, if it ever opens'again." Dusk exhales sharply at the mention of Evolve. "-- Funny you mention /that/," he says wryly. "Think it just might be opening again. /Not/ sure you'll want the bouncer spot though." His fangs flash in a thin sliver of white, and his head tips back to turn his gaze up towards the sky. "I'll be around. Good luck, man." He answers Eric's outstretched hand with a knuckletap, and turns aside to head off into the cold.