ArchivedLogs:Lower Freak Side

Lower Freak Side
Part of the Future Past TP
Dramatis Personae Dusk and Jack
In Absentia	2014-12-08 Jack runs into Dusk, literally. They talk in the rain.
Location <NYC> Lower East Side
He probably should have considered the weather before setting out but after the previous night's dream, Jack was a little distracted. Back in his hoodie and jeans, he's got a borrowed t-shirt on under it at least. Hood up, hands in his pockets, and head down, the invisible teen is walking not far from the Brotherhood Safehouse he'd visited only twice before. He's got no destination in mind, his thoughts elsewhere. At least the rain isn't as bad now as it was earlier in the day. Not far away, the door to the safehouse is opening, shutting again quickly. Dressed for the cold and wet, Dusk doesn't look so much 'mutant' as 'kind of disfigured', a very large trenchcoat thrown on over top of his wings that leaves his back and shoulders looking hunched and lumpy. His black hair is starting to frizz even after just a few moments in the wet, tiny droplets of water clinging to its ends and sparkling jewel-like in his scruffy beard. He holds the coat closed with one hand, wrapping it around the messenger bag slung across his chest. His other hand is holding onto a cell phone, head down as well as he taps rapidly at its increasingly wet screen, glowing blue and green visible on it; he's not paying overly good attention to the rest of the world as he hastens down the sidewalk, heading for Evolve. If Jack's hair has frizzed, only he knows. Though considering that he's got a wet hood on, it's probably plastered against his head. He's been lucky avoiding people on the sidewalk so far, most of them moving out of the way and some shooting him annoyed looks he ignores. But luck is running out. He's headed right for Dusk and unless the other man looks up in time it's going to be a collision. Nope, no such luck. Dusk is very focused on his screen, mostly sidestepping past other people with the careless autopilot of a long-time New Yorker; he comes to a stop very /abruptly/ right in mid-step down the sidwalk, though, frowning down at the screen. The frown only deepens when there is sudden collision, phone slipping out of his grip and tumbling to the ground with the sudden jolt. He doesn't budge all that much, an oddly solid mass to thud into given his overall lanky-lean look; instead he holds an arm protectively around the bag on his chest, a sharp growl instinctively rising in his throat even before he's looked up. "/Dude/." Jack does down with the phone, slipping on the wet pavement and definitely not expecting the solid mass he walked into. He falls onto his rear with a grunt, unhurt but slightly irritated. "Hey," he grunts, starting to get up. He reaches up to make sure his hood has stayed on and gives a rather odd sight in the rain. His normally invisible hand is outlined by the rain for keen eyes. "Dusk?" he blinks when he finally looks up and sees who it is he ran into. "Uh...hey." "... Oh." The growl subsides again. Dusk stoops to scoop his phone up out of the puddle it's splashed down into, exhaling short and sharp. Only /after/ he's checked to make sure it has survived (it has, just fine; the durable case it's in looks like it could survive much worse than a little rain and a short fall) does he offer a hand out to help Jack back up. "Uh. Sup." Accepting the hand up, Jack shifts a little awkwardly. He's glad the phone survived, still feeling a little bad about the whole 'Spencer teleported to england' thing. He looks as confused as an empty hood can at the question and glances around. "Not a lot. Got distracted...thinking about the future," he shivers slightly. "Walked farther than I thought though..." Dusk snorts, brushing his fingers up through his hair to skim some of the water away from it. "The future?" He sounds a little skeptical. "Yeeeah, B mentioned you were thinking of doing that whole school thing." There's a pause, Jack tilting his head to the side. He didn't think he was interesting enough to talk about but he shakes it off. "Yeah...figure if I'm able to, why not? There's not a lot else for me to do..." he trails off. "But I meant uhh," he frowns, rubbing the back of his neck and watching raindrops fall into the puddles for a moment. "Have you...heard anything about people having weird dreams about the future?" he asks, hoping he doesn't sound as crazy as he thinks he does. "What do you mean, there's not a lot to do?" Dusk looks utterly /baffled/ at this statement. "You have noticed we're in New York City, right? This is like, the /epicenter/ of shit to do. If you can't find something to do here, high school's probably not going to help you much, it's just gonna -- delay the inevitable a couple years. I mean, don't get me wrong, if school is your /thing/, do school, but doing school because there's /nothing else to do/ sounds like kind of a copout." The lumpy trenchcoat shifts around his shoulders with the impression of a shrug, wings kind of stifled in their movement with the heavy fabric. The clarification, though, scrunches one eye up. He scoots back -- partly so as to not be smack in the /middle/ of the sidewalk anymore, and partly to take advantage of the overhang of a nearby doorway to have at least some shelter from the rain. "Yeah, I've -- uh. Wait. So that invisible guy was /you/?" Now he looks /really/ skeptical. "Err, I'm a homeless guy who's invisible and never finished school," Jack shrugs, sounding a little baffled himself. "I don't really know what kind of options I have. And I'm still kinda new here," he says. He follows Dusk under the overhang, shaking some water off and then slipping his hands back into his pocket. "What other invisible guys do you know?" Jack asks. A second later, something registers with him and he does a double-take. "Wait, you ...saw the same dream?" he asks. He didn't know the future dreams did that too. Dusk's mouth curls up into a smile, oddly /warm/ considering his next words. "Don't take this the wrong way, but get the fuck over it, man." His tone is languid rather than sharp, more amused than censuring. "I was a homeless kid with giant-ass gargoyle wings and vampire teeth who /drinks people's blood/ and /I/ never went to high school, you think people were lining up to /throw/ opportunity my way? But trust me, there's a million things way more exciting to do than sitting around moping about how you don't have options. Like I said, I'm not saying /don't/ go to school. I'm saying go to school if you /want/ to go to school, but going to school because you can't think of anything /better/, just -- /man/ that's a waste of life, you know? Just giving years of yourself to some shit you may or may not /actually/ care about because you're in a rut right now? Do shit you're /passionate/ about. /Make/ your own options. What would you /want/ to do?" He's digging into a pocket of his trenchcoat, slipping out a pack of cigarettes to tuck one between his lips. He offers the pack out to Jack, brows lifted questioningly. "Uhhhh. Dunno. Off the top of my head I've met at least five different people the past few years who /could/ turn invisible if they liked. Who knows how many I could know years from now." The unlit cigarette bobs between his lips as he speaks. "Saw the same dream, yeah. These things, they're --" For a moment his smile fades, a more distant look to his expression. "... connections." It's a little distant in tone as well, and he shakes his head quickly as thought to bring himself back to the present. "I mean, the people who have the dreams. Are connected. Share the same --" His fingers flutter towards his temple. Jack winces slightly, looking down. He listens to what Dusk says a feels a bit stupid. "I don't know what I want to do," he admits. "Before...this," he gestures at himself. "All I really had planned or thought about was playing football. And I know I'm out of the loop but I'm pretty sure they don't let guys like us into the NFL or NCAA," he shakes his head. After a moment of silence, he takes a breath. "Sorry...I'm being dumb," he says. He holds up his hand in a quick 'no thanks' gesture to the cigarettes. He nods a little, having met two others that could turn invisible so far. He's more than a little jealous of them having an off switch but he doesn't bring it up. He blinks a few times as Dusk speaks, processing things. "So we're...connected? Like...mentally?" he asks, sounding unsure. "Does that mean we're going to have more of those dreams or something?" Dusk nods, tucking the cigarettes back away and producing a lighter instead. Cheap clear plastic; it takes a few flicks before he gets his cigarette lit. "Yeeeah, that sports thing is way out. 'pologies. OK, so how about the other way around? What do you want to get out of going to school? Like say you go, and you graduate, and -- then what?" His hand turns up as he pulls a long drag from his smoke, eyes closing kind of blissfully with the inhale. His face turns away, keeping the stream of smoke politely downwind from Jack when he exhales again. "During the dreams we are, anyway. I don't know if we'll have more or not. The ones I've had, it hasn't always been the same people. Or the same time. I -- knew someone." Wistful, again. "Who could -- steer. Dream things. Connect people. But it wasn't like this, it wasn't -- /future/-telling dreams. If," he allows, nose wrinkling, "these dreams even /are/ telling the future. I mean, they seem kind of -- fucked the hell up, you know?" "I haven't thought that far ahead," Jack admits. "I'm hoping I can find something else I like or I'm good at if I go to school," he goes on. "What do you do?" he asks after a moment, curious. The news that there's someone out there that can control dreams that way has him perking up for a moment. "Fucked the hell up is an understatement," Jack eventually sighs out. "That...place and those freaking...giant robot things. Most fucked up dream I've ever had." "For money or for fun?" Dusk's teeth flash bright in a wide grin as he admits: "Actually, it's the same for both, I'm a huge fucking nerd. I'm a webdev. I code -- a lot of computer shit. Freelance, for pay. Just kind of out of curiosity, for fun. But I didn't learn it in school, I mean, there's a huge big internet out there, libraries, /people/ to learn from on your /own/ time. And the thing about high school is that it's sorta important if you want to go to college and get a -- respectable type job, but c'mon, let's face it." He takes another drag of cigarette, waving the cancer stick back towards the hump of his wings. "People like you and me, dude? It doesn't /matter/ what the fuck credentials we have on paper. You show up for a job interview, you think anyone's gonna see a diploma? Cuz they won't. They'll see a freakish ghost kid just like anyone looking at me sees a freakish vampire. Whether you go to school or /not/? You're gonna have to get by on your /own/ damn wits because school isn't gonna wash the weirdo off you. We're stuck with that for life. It's sort of liberating, though. When you get used to it." He leans back against the wall of the building, tipping his head back to look out at the dark sky. "Seriously fucked up, but I can't -- I mean, I've /seen/ some fucked up things. Already. Here in real life? So I can't say I'm horribly -- /surprised/ if the future /does/ go all to hell. Just kind of makes me want to keep fighting it harder right /now/, you know?" His grin returns, crooked. "You and Ash seemed pretty cosy. Even /in/ a fucking shithole apocalypse not everything's terrible." That has Jack perking up again. "Wow, so you make a bunch of programs and stuff? That sounds pretty awesome," he says. There's a chuckle from the invisible teen at the mention of libraries. "Yeah...back in Jersey, I used to sneak into the library at night to read and watch their movies and stuff," he says. "Watched some science stuff they had but didn't understand most of it," he admits. The unseen smile fades off his face at the mention of not getting a respectable job. "Hey, we find a mummy, a wolfman, and a frankenstein monster and we got the whole group together. Maybe fishman too," he tries to joke. "Yeah," Jack breathes out. "I may not like fighting but if there's anything I can do to stop /that/ stuff from happening," he looks back up at Dusk. "I'll do what I can to help. Fight, sneak, steal...all that," he says. The next grin gets Jack blushing. "Wait, you know that guy? He's real? Not just a dream?" he squeaks. "Hang out with B a little more, she'll science at you so hard your head will spin. Maybe even absorb a thing or two. But yeah, I --" Dusk nods, grin unfaltering. "Write programs. And stuff. If you think it's the kind of thing might interest you, I can hook you up with some excellent starting books. Give you a feel, see whether you like it or are bored out of your skull." He chuckles at the joke, shaking his head slightly. "That's kind of the fun of it, though, see? Going through life like this, it cuts out so much of the bullshit. The people who don't even bother to give you the time of day? Screw those people. I wouldn't /want/ their respect. Kinda figure if society's already decided I don't get to be a part then, great! Just means we get to make our own /better/ rules, decide what's respectable in a way that makes sense. " "I never liked fighting either," is his next admission, "but some shit is worth fighting for." He taps at his cigarette, ashing it before taking his next drag. "Sure he's real. He's a friend. He's rad. Lives down at the Commons. Want I should introduce you?" "B...I do need to ask her about invisible pants. I'd like a pair of those," Jack remarks with a little chuckle. He blinks at the offer then smiles. "Sure, I could take a look at the starting stuff. Thanks." He considers everything Dusk says and then leans against the wall as well. "Making our own rules does sound like it could be fun," he says. "Makes me glad I've been meeting other mutants here. Friendly ones...other people to make those rules with." "Definitely. And stopping whatever was in that dream...that...prison camp...that's something I say is worth fighting for," the invisible mutant agrees. He shifts a bit at that question. "I...I dunno. I've never even kissed...never even told anyone that I like...oh man," he lets out a breath. "Meeting him...could be cool." "On me they'd just look obscene," Dusk replies about invisible pants, a little deadpan. His eyes flick sideways to Jack, then back up to the sky. "... I mean. That stuff. The prison camp, all of it. It's just kind of -- the logical extension of where our world already /is/, you know? I've /lived/ in cages. I've had people literally strap me down at cut my wings off. Slice us open to see how we /tick/. There's /plenty/ worth fighting for right here and now, even without -- that. Staring us down." He finishes off his cigarette, dropping the butt to grind it beneath one foot. The smile that pulls up his mouth again is warm and crooked. "Never like never never?" For a moment, his sharp teeth catch at his lower lip, his eyes turning back towards the sky. "/Huh/." The smile curls juuust a little bigger, but whatever thought is on his mind he shakes it off. "I'll introduce you, then. Strange, huh? Hey, this is my friend Jack, but you already dreamed about dating him. Oh /man/ oh man there's /so/ a cheesy Savage Garden song about that. -- 'I think I dreamed you into life.'" The small chuckle in his voice comes through in the small snatch of singing. Jack laughs. "Depends who you ask. Some people might approve of that look," he replies with a grin. The smile fades and he falls silent as Dusk begins talking again. There's a pretty horrified look on his face at some of this news and light objects in the area are shaken by a little telekinetic tremble. "Then we'll just have to fight to stop that crap too," he says firmly. "Make sure it never gets to the camps." He goes quiet again, watching the rain. "...never another guy. I...pretty sure if I wasn't a mutant, that secret getting out back home would have gotten me thrown out too," he mutters, blushing all invisibly. He smiles a bit at the singing though. "Don't think I've heard it but you're probably right about a song like that existing." Dusk's wings shift behind him, a quiet scratching noise of claws against the heavy coat. "Some of us already are." This is a little quieter, his eyes drifting back upwards. He draws in a slow shiver of breath, teeth scraping against his lower lip once more. "I can feel that, you know? Even if I can't see you. The blushing. It's all just -- so much blood shifting and I can /feel/ your --" He rubs at the back of his neck, fingers rubbing into wet hair as his expression turns a little sheepish. "... Sorry, /that's/ not creepy or anything. Anyway, you might have noticed but around here none of /us/ are going to care much who you want to kiss. Guys, girls, everyone, /no-one/, it's pretty much all good so long as everyone /involved/ is happy." Jack arches a brow slightly at that quiet statement, considering Dusk. He's distracted away from the topic though. "You mean you can..." his eyes are wide as he stares. The blush comes back when he registers just what else that means Dusk might feel. "Okay...yeah that is a little creepy but...also kind of cool," he says. "And...at least someone will know if I'm bleeding out on the ground or something," he murmurs a little more quietly. His smile comes back though and he laughs. "Yeah, I figured that out talking to Shane. Just...it was another thing to get used to. Like being around people that won't freak out because I'm the headless homeless man." "I'm a vampire," Dusk answers Jack wryly. "I guess it's sort of a predator thing which -- doesn't. Really make it /less/ creepy, but yeah. I can feel you blushing. I can feel your heart beating. Can tell if people get scared or excited or --" His smile is a little crooked again. His fingers scrub through his hair once more, leaving it kind of a tousled wet mess. "Definitely not going to let you bleed out. But -- yeah. I guess it is sort of nice, isn't it? It's not like all mutants are any /more/ okay with queers than the rest of the world it's just that I think we kind of found our own little. Group of /super/ freaks and -- it's nice. To have people. Who -- get you? Or who don't care if they /don't/ get you because they're just /okay/ with weird. I mean, most places, if I even tried to /start/ explaining my love life it would -- not. Go over well. But." He turns his head towards Jack, fangs flashing in a warm smile. "Kinda like living in freak-town." "Yeah, creepy but still kind of cool too," Jack replies. "And thanks. That's...another kind of bad dream I have," he waves it off though. "Definitely nice to find the group," he agrees. "Freak-Town, isn't there a song for that too?" he asks with a laugh. "If there's not, there should be. It'd be awesome." "We have a bona fide rockstar living at the Commons, if /anyone/ should write a song about FreakTown its him. Lower Freak Side. Living right in the frakking middle of it." Dusk's breath puffs out in a small quick laugh, and he pulls upward and away from the wall. "/Jesus/ my fingers are going freaking numb. You want a coffee? /I/ was going to go get a coffee." He gestures towards Evolve. "Haven't met him yet but maybe I'll suggest it to him if I do," Jack replies with a little laugh of his own. Pushing off the wall, he puts his hands back in his pockets. "That sounds like a great idea. I should stop wandering around aimlessly in the rain anyway." "Fantastic. This is definitely a night for a bigass thing of coffee and -- maybe a bowl of chili." The faint rumble under Dusk's voice with this could be a growl or could almost be a purr. Mmm, food.