ArchivedLogs:See You

See You
Dramatis Personae Eve, Heather
In Absentia	2017-06-03 "Congratulations again on passing."
Location <NYC> El Sabor de Cuba - East Harlem
This place has a very bright and festive atmosphere. Cuban music, as well as various fifties-era tunes play over head as one enters El Sabor de Cuba. There are various hispanic-themed food items all over the store, a generous liquor selection, and plenty of smokables to be had. Colorful decorations and old black and white pictures decorate the walls. Near the back, there is a sort of island kitchen usually staffed by an eighty-plus year old woman who speaks almost no english whatsoever. There's usually one or two older gentlemen playing chess, checkers, or cards at small tables in the area, and a few older women chatting as they take a break from work over shots of cafecito. This is also where a stairway leads up to what one can assume is the upstairs apartment. A recent addition has been posted in the corner of the front window. A sign that in addition to the various deals posted, advertises quietly: Bienvenidos, Mutantes. It looks to be homemade and done in a younger hand. Out front, one can often find men, old and young alike smoking a cigar and watching passersby with a sort of critical, assessing eye. They rarely stir themselves though, unless cries of 'ladron' go up. It's later on in the evening and Heather has just arrived at El Sabor de Cuba, having waited for someone else to come through the door so that she can slip in behind them (provoking a reaction of a bit of surprise when arriving). She's wearing a light baby blue windbreaker, a red t-shirt with a yellow lightning bolt on it and a pair of purple and blue vertical striped parachute pants. Her goggles are down over her eyes, reflecting the light from her phone screen as she composes a text message to notify of her arrival. (Eve --> Heather): ohai brt The texting habits of teenagers alright. The girl's actually got some pretty noticeable makeup right now. Smokey eye makeup. Bright red lipstick. Dangly earrings. A new black jean jacket and some sort of knee-length skirt. Looks like someone's parents rewarded them for not having to go to summer school! She comes hopping down the stairs in the back in her new low-heeled boots, and ALMOST throws her arms around Heather. She stops just short of doing so. "Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou! I am so done with math! Oh. Em. Gee. I passed! Thank you!" Yes. Her mother and father are watching from their places in the store, bemused as their daughter dances among the aisles. "Sccccchoooool's out... for... summer..." And now there is singing. Heather throws out a quick thumbs up when she hears Eve's enthusiasm, "Congratulations. If you thought my services were useful to you, you could pass my information to friends." She claps her hands together once, making a sound altogether louder than most claps. "You showed a lot of improvement in a short time. Did you do anything to celebrate? What will you do over the summer?" The girl covers her ears briefly as the clap sounds, but then responds with a thumbs-up shortly thereafter. "Of course I'm going to totes tell everyone I know that you're an ultra-good tutor. You're like, super-patient and everything." A pause as she is asked of her plans,"I dunno... Mostly work here. Maybe go on a date or two. There's a couple of boys from school, this guy at the coffee shop, Evolve, and... um... Your roommate's really nice." Uh-oh, the girl is wiggling her heel and twirling a strand of hair. "Otherwise, maybe work on trying to get onto the track team?" "Yes. Paige is nice. She told me that you and she had dinner," remarks Heather's recorder. "You are interested in track team? I like to jog. I like to run. But I do not think I could join a track team. I think I am a cheater. But I have applied to some universities. And maybe I will be able to join a different kind of student club." She does an exaggerated shrug, keeping the shrug pose for about a second before releasing it. "Summer will be quieter for tutoring. So I need to sort out alternate income sources. I have always been good at solving problems, though. Also. My apologies. I forget that if I clap it is very loud." At this time in the recording, she mimes out clapping, but does not make contact between her hands. "Yeah, I'm not too fast, but I am a KILLER endurance runner." Her smile becomes a little brittle at those words. Does she even realize she's doing it. "I jog a lot too. If I weren't worried about slowing you down, I'd go jogging with you." Eve offers, after a moment of looking Heather over,"You consider doing deliveries? Courier service? I usually make the deliveries on our scooter, but um... if you want a summer job, maybe ask my dad? That's your uh... 'thing' right, speed?" As if it weren't perfectly obvious. "And it's okay. Sometimes I get loud when I get excited." Or drink. Teenagers don't talk about that, though. "What are you going to school for?" "Well. Doing courier service short distance is fine. But I need to rest a lot too. If I run somewhere, I still have to run there. It takes as much effort as anyone else running somewhere," explains Heather through the recorder, "My thing is that my perspective of time is slowed down. When you experience a minute. I experience five minutes." She tightens her lips slightly and scratches the back of her neck. "But given that I could likely complete many deliveries quickly. I could likely get tips more quickly than most. Pay per transaction is usually better for me. Rather than per hour." Pause. "I want to go to school for a degree in mathematics." The girl taps her chin thoughtfully, and then offers,"Then perhaps a place that delivers pizzas? By bicycle? Oh, oh! That really fast sandwhich delivery place! Oh! Wait. Um. I don't know anything about your expenses or how much money you need to make, or much about your life. I'm also sixteen. I am maybe not the best person to be offering unasked-for advice." The girl blushes something fierce, but smiles a little at least. "Nevermind me. I can't thank you enough. Next year, I'll probably be asking for more help with math. You gonna be a teacher then, or work in like, research or something?" "I want to do research. The idea of being the most published mathematician of our time appeals to me. And so I would like to make it happen," plays Heather, "And it is fine. I am technically eighteen. A difference of two years. Sort of. But it is not as though I have a wealth of life experience to draw from. I will continue to use apps and adds to do odd jobs I think. I also flip collectibles. If you want to buy pokemon cards. I happen to have some rare ones." She puts on a confused expression at this part of her own recording, miming out that she doesn't really fully understand that part of what she said. There's a pause and she looks about, "I would like to sit down somewhere." The girl starts walking back in the direction of the hot bar, waving her hand to encourage Heather to follow her. "We can go upstairs to the apartment or we can sit down here, if you prefer." Eve gestures to one of the tables near the hot bar, and then towards the stairs at the back,"I don't really do... uh... pokemon stuff. I dunno. It's not really my think. I mostly like people, or activities. I'm not really uh... cerebral like you. Still, considering how fast you think, I bet you have a pretty good chance of, like... accomplishing your goals. You got, like, a bunch of time more to think about things than other mathers. Mathies? Math-types? Mathematicians." "The apartment if that is okay. Sometimes quieter is nicer. There's a lot of chatter here. Which is okay. There is a lot of chatter everywhere," plays Heather, taking a couple of steps at a time to follow behind Eve. "I do not play with the pokemon cards either. But when it comes to resale they can be useful. They are small. Light. Transportable. Same with baseball cards. And Magic cards. Cards in general. I had a bad experience reselling musical instruments. So I stopped that. I also like people and activities. People are interesting. Activities are interesting. What kind of activities interest you?" The upstairs apartment is full of older furniture, though all well-kept. Eve heads straight for the kitchen, returning with a pair of vanilla cokes in hand. One is set down on the coffee table, while the other is popped open. The girl settles in to sip her soda,"Must be a pain for you to process all that especially with how we all sound. Shit. Um. Is sign language easier? I could try learning sign language. Doesn't seem too hard." She chews her lower lip in thought. "Huh. I never realized you could make money doing that. Um... I like going to parties. Dancing. Running. Active stuff. Like I said, mostly jogging. I WANT to be a cheerleader, but... I dunno. Considering my... gender issues, it's more thorny an arena than I wanna try for. I... know these days, I could probably do it if I push, but I don't want to make it this big... you know... thing? So I mostly hang out, doing stuff in the park when I can. It's still fun. Just not, you know... organized, I guess? I don't sleep much, and dancing is something I can do all on my own in my room." "I considered learning sign language. It is hard. At least to learn on your own. And I think that there is something lost for me. It's hard to follow my movement. And it's hard for me to track," plays Heather. She steps very carefully upon getting into the apartment, her movement turning from walking into a sort of miming of what some might call 'exaggerated sneaking'. "I just use my recorder to translate back and forth. I record what you say to speed it up. But it can be confusing since the translation takes time. I admit I like the idea of sign. Sound can be bright. Distracting. Sometimes too much. But I'd have the same barriers and I would need to involve a camera in my translation." She sits down next to the coffee table, peering momentarily at the vanilla coke. "Could you open that for me? I do not sleep much either. It is good to hang out in the park. To do something you like for fun. But I hope that you can do your cheerleading." "I applied once, and they were okay with me being on the team, but they wanted me to wear the pants, which is for the boys. For... reasons. And then it became this big argument, and I didn't really want it to be this big... thing, so I let it go. But thanks." The girl opens the can of coke, and after a moment's though, Eve goes back to the kitchen and returns with a straw as well. "Let me know if you need another one." The girl sips her own coke as she settles in, one leg crossed over the other,"You know, I have a pair of noise canceling headphones. If you want to, you can have it for your recorder, I don't mind. It shouldn't mess with the microphone, right? I mean, it's the least I could do." Another moment of quiet, and then she murmurs,"So, like... Are there, like... doctors for that? Sleeping, I mean. I've only been... getting in a couple of hours a night lately. I mean... I feel fine, but it's like... That can't be healthy, right?" "I can understand that. Not wanting to draw too much attention. When I lived in a group home I usually kept my head down. I just hope they change their minds. And do not try and make you wear pants," plays Heather. She gives an appreciative thumbs up upon being given the straw, even adding a quick air applause. "There are doctors for sleeping. Doctors have usually been very dismissive to me. Sometimes: Because you are a mutant. Sometimes: Because you have this diagnosis and we want to give you pills that will not help. But for sleeping it was the first case. I sleep approximately one hour at a time four or five times a day. But if you feel fine I think it is fine. And noise canceling headphones might be good. Usually I can tell when people are talking to me easier by sight than sound anyways." The girl pops up, disappearing into the apartment and returning momentarily with said headphones. Not earbuds, but quality over-the-ear things. They don't look like they see much use. "I doubt they'll change their minds, but... I dunno... this'll sound kind of weird, but getting to know more mutants has made it seem like... less of a big deal. Like... I hope this isn't offensive, but you all get excluded so much more than I do for something that's... honestly incredibly bullshit. It's straight-up racism." Eve purses her lips in thought, though, as she holds out the headphones,"I get what you're saying about doctors. Like... I always tell them I'm ready for estrogen, or that my anti-androgens aren't high enough, but they say 'it's normal for your age' or 'we don't want to do anything permanent before you finish growing'.. Like I don't know what the hell I need or want." She sips her coke for a while longer, befoe sighing. "So you think I don't need to say anything to my parents as long as I feel okay, then?" "I think that you do not need to say anything if you feel okay. Unless you want to say something. But I would also recommend not weighing my advice on parental matters highly," plays Heather. She takes the headphones into her hands, turning them over carefully while the recorder continues to play, "It sounds very condescending. That the doctors do not listen to you about what you need. I hate that. I hate hate hate that. When doctors talk like that to me. And if you know what you need. They should listen." She puts the headphones on over her ears, tilting her head back and forth, takes them off and adjusts the band a bit. "Gracias for the headphones. And there is anti-mutant discrimination. I have experienced some. But what I experience is different from what Paige experiences. But what I experience is also different from what human passing mutants experience. I cannot seem human but I can look human. We all have our own challenges though." The girl nods softly, a wave dismissing the thanks for the headphones,"De nada. I hope they bring you some measure of comfort. I only used them back when I was practicing... stuff." Eve nods emphatically to Heather, though, about the dislike for less than attentive doctors. "I hope you're getting good medical care, otherwise." She idly runs her thumb around the lip of her coke can, eyes not exactly on Heather, but gaze still intent on some far spot on the wall. As if focusing. "I don't think I'll ever be able to exactly get the issues Paige goes through, but... I get that, sort of, about human-passing. I... do alright. Most people who don't know I'm trans don't usually figure it out if I'm careful with my appearance. I feel guilty about it sometimes, though, because I think how much it sucks when I DO get mis-gendered. My grandma still calls me by my old name." She makes a face,"Then again, noone's making me register for being trans." "I do not have a doctor right now. I have been here only since January. I used to live in St. Louis. After I was no longer a ward of the state they sent me away." She puts a finger to her forehead here and flips it out, "On a bus to here. Which solved their problem. But did not help me." She furrows her eyebrows here, mostly seeming to be miming expressions while the recording plays. She takes another sip from the coke while continuing, "It seems pointless to not call people by what they want. When we interviewed for our place they introduced with pronouns. I thought that seemed very practical." "It can be practical, and certainly helps avoid a lot of problems. I like it, but... I dunno. I think some people ascribe to the 'you should know' school, which... I don't think is very practical, but understandable." Eve watches the hand-motions now carefully, before nodding slowly,"So basically... They were just happy to get rid of a problem, huh? So is everything I heard about the foster system true? Is it as shitty as people make it sound? Or is that just an outsider's view?" "I cannot speak to the system. And I think some people had it easier. But I was a problem. They considered me to be unstable due to my diagnosis. And dangerous due to my mutation. A risk due to my upbringing." Heather counts the three factors off on her fingers. "They did not as much consider how to help me. Most of their action was making sure I could not harm others. But I never wanted to hurt anyone. Which is to say: The system did not serve me well." "I don't know much about your upbringing, truth be told. Why would that make you dangerous? You told me a little, but..." Eve shakes her head,"I wouldn't think that should've made YOU dangerous, even if your parents weren't super-kind. Mind if I ask what your diagnosis was?" Another quiet moment, before she tentatively says,"The problem is that it's a system, which means it's not equipped to deal with unique or specific needs." Heather taps on her recorder a few times with her fingers while she considers her answer to Eve. She makes a couple of quick squeaks out loud, but nothing intelligible. After about eight seconds, she plays, "My parents are criminals. Labelled dangerous mutant criminals. They did crimes. The doctors diagnosed me with schizophrenia." She points at her forehead and shakes her head. "I am not dangerous. But sometimes people get an idea of you. And they can only see that idea anymore. It does not matter what you do. They stop seeing you." Eve frowns as she listens, head tilting this way and that as she hears the squeaks,"That I get. My grandmother, the kids I grew up with, even my parents to some degree. Less poor-intentioned though, I think. You're not your parents or your diagnosis. Even if you were schizophrenic, that'd still just be a part of you, not the whole. You are more than schizo, mutant, or foster kid. You're Heather, you're a mathematician. A researcher. You're amaze-a-balls. You're my Heather-shaped tutor and friend. That's what I see, anyway." After school special moment over. "I appreciate you saying so. Though I am not a researcher yet. I look forward to being that and many things," plays Heather. "And I hope that people who are important in your life start to see you too." She falls silent for a few moments and adds, "I should take a nap soon and I should not do that on your couch. Congratulations again on passing."