ArchivedLogs:Somewhat Familiar Faces

Somewhat Familiar Faces
Dramatis Personae Gabriel, Doug
In Absentia	2013-07-31 Doug meets a potential new neighbor.
Location <NYC> Village Lofts - Lobby
Bright and sunny, the lobby of this apartment building is clean and unassuming. Requiring an electronic keycard for entry, the pair of elevators dings cheerfully when one arrives. A small sitting area has bright yellow couches and small coffee tables, though the nearby vending machine is perpetually running out of /something/. Tall windows let in plenty of light during the daytime, and the building maintenance keeps the common areas spotlessly clean. A bank of mailboxes near the sitting area collects mail for the building, a recycling bin right at hand for the unwanted spam. Beside the mailboxes, a large corkboard serves as informal meeting space for the announcements, perpetually flyered with notes and notices from the various apartment residents. This time of the afternoon, just before rush hour, is oddly quiet today. At least in the lobby of the Village Lofts, where there doesn't seem to be much activity. Well, other than the blonde guy on the ladder. Doug is industriously installing /some/ sort of tech in the corner of the ceiling over the laundry room. Dressed in jeans and a very utilitarian blue shirt, with a cap jammed down on his head, the teenager looks for all the world like any maintenance worker. Except for the fancy tablet he has perched on the paint step of the ladder, which he occasionally reaches down to tap at experimentally before he goes back to his wiring and attaching. Instead of the usual muzak in the lobby, there is 60s music -- in French. For those in the know, Serge Gainsbourg is currently purring his way through 'Je taime... moi non plus'. Doug /might/ be singing along. Softly. Under his breath. The door softly cracks open. A tall, dark skinned Latino man slips through. Gabriel is fit, but not overly much, and is wearing a long sleeved jacket, pair of gray jeans, boots, and a white shirt underneath the jacket. Carrying a satchel and a small piece of paper with an address neatly scribbled onto it, he steps inside, looking around for signs of life. Walking around the lobby, he spots Doug inside the laundry room. Approaching the ladder, he softly speaks, in a mixture of a Hispanic-Brazilian accent, and a New Yorker one. "Uh, hello? Are you the building superintendent?". Gabriel smiles, as he looks up to Doug. "I called about an apartment?". The sound of the door buzzing open pauses Doug in his work, and he bends down to look at the tall man when he speaks. There's a twitch of his eyebrows at the accent before they fall into a confused furrow. "What?" he asks, climbing down a step and leaning on the ladder to get a better look. "Oh! No, I'm not the super," he says with a sudden grin. "Mister Papadopoulis is on the second floor. Next to the elevator." He steps back up, then, and fiddles with a couple more wires before checking it on his tablet, and nodding. Then he's climbing down, shoving his tools in his back pocket. He jerks a thumb at his chest. "I'm Doug," he says. "I'm on five." Looking at Doug, Gabriel begins to speak softly. "I'm Gabriel. I live on..well, nowhere yet.". She smiles as he finishes his sentence, before looking at the newly finished work. "You seem very handy at this. New vent system, perhaps?". He looks at everything he wrote on the note. He mutters slowly under his breath. "Papadopoulis? They wrote the name wrong...Peterson sounds nothing like Papadopoulis.". Putting the note away, he looks back at Doug. "Second floor, yes?". "I think Peterson owns the building," Doug says, taking his tablet off the ladder and setting it on one of the chairs. "Papadopoulis is the on-site super. He's a nice guy." He grins, and shakes his head at the question. "New security system,' he says, putting his tools in a canvas bag sitting nearby. Then he comes back to retrieve his tablet and pokes at it, turning it so that Gabriel can see the crystal-clear fisheye view of the laundry room, including the window. "Never hurts to be careful," the blonde says with a lift of his shoulders. "Especially these days." He furrows his brow a bit more as he studies the older man's face, as if trying to recall something. "You look familiar," he says. "You're not from Salem Center, are you?" Gabriel laughs as Doug explains. "Ah. I thought my mother confused names again. She's still never got a hold of American pronunciation, and throw in a Greek name, that's super disastrous.". He smiles, looking back at the system. "You're right. Never know when a thief may strike.". He stops smiling for a second, glaring at it, before smiling again. "Salem Center...Ah, yes! I went to a prep academy there a few years back. Didn't end up staying for graduation, but, things happen. Did you go to the school too?". He smiles, holding his bag closer to him. "It was called..Xavier's Institute, yes.". Doug grins at the explanation of Gabriel's mother, and lifts a shoulder. "I can see that," he says. "Papadopoulis doesn't exactly roll of the tongue." He watches the other man as he looks over the small camera, and his brow knits briefly, relaxing as soon as Gabriel looks back in his direction. "Oh, I didn't go to school there," he says. "Not at Xavier's. I went to good old Salem Center High. We live across from the school, though." He taps the tablet again, closing the camera window, and wags a finger. "I probably remember you from town," he says. "From the arcade or something. I was in there a lot." Rubbing his chin, Gabriel thinks for a moment. "Tilt, yes? That was the arcade in Salem? Haven't been there in..two years, now? Wonder if they still have the Pac-Man machine.". He laughs as he says this. "Memories. God, I feel old now, and I'm only 23.". Gabriel suddenly begins staring at Doug, slightly frozen, before clutching his head. "Uh, what's the apartment's rules on mutants? Friendly? Banned? Killed? I'm..asking for a friend.". He smiles as he says this last part, slowly. "Yes, a friend.". Doug nods. "Yeah. Tilt." He grins, and moves to put his tablet in the bag with his tools -- in a separate pocket, for those paying attention to those sort of things. "I think that machine is still there," he says. "I haven't been in there in a while, so I couldn't say for sure." He chuckles at the sentiment about feeling old, but his smile freezes when the other man begins staring at him and the blonde's eyebrows knit briefly. The question gets a bit of a stare, and then Doug blinks. "Are you serious?" he asks, wrinkling his nose. "Do you not keep up with the news?" He waves a hand around the lobby, indicating the building at large. "This building was all over it, a couple of months ago." He doesn't sound like this is particularly /good/. "We've got plenty of mutants here." Gabriel shakes his head. "Sorry about the staring. I can't help it sometimes." He softly laughs as he says this. "Sounds fun. Which ones should I avoid? Or, moreso, which ones will burn me to a living crisp?". He smiles, looking through his bag. He pulls out a bottle of water, and /four/ packs of beef jerky. He takes a sip of the water, before ripping a packet open, eating it. He puts two away, before opening the next packet. "However, it's still a very nice building. Compared to the one down in Clinton, at least.". Doug grins, and shakes his head. "Oh, no," he says, holding up his hand. "All you'll get out of me is that they're here. It's up to them and/or Google to tell you who they are." He lifts a shoulder apologetically, wrinkling his nose. "Sorry," he says. "But, we've had some issues around here, because of all the news stuff. So, I'm not really up for dishing on my friends, even to someone from the home field." He tips his head. "Clinton's a weird neighborhood," he notes. "Like, some parts of it are nice, due to all the yuppies trying to fancy it up, but there are still areas that are just...crime city." He grins. "I'm guessing the building you looked at was in the latter category." Gabriel laughs, brushing his hair back. "Fair enough. Second floor, yes?". He smiles, as he approaches the stair case. "See you around, I think I'll like it here.". Suddenly, Gabriel faces the staircase, holding his hand out. He places two fingers upwards, and suddenly clamps them back down. In a blur, Gabriel's matter skirts across in a blur, up onto the staircase, where it stops. Gabriel waves at Doug, walking the rest of the way up. "Nice kid.". Doug nods. "Yeah, second floor. Next to the elevator." He grins, and lifts his hand. "See you," he echoes, whatever else he was going to say fading as Gabriel demonstrates his ability. Then he's offering another wave. "Nice trick," he calls to Gabriel's retreating form before moving to retrieve his bag and the ladder, his voice dropping to a murmur for the deserted lobby as he adds. "Flicker does it better."