Logs:Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received.

Like good stewards of the manifold grace of God, serve one another with whatever gift each of you has received.
Dramatis Personae Heather, Leo, Naomi
In Absentia Steve, DJ, Lael	2022-01-09 "Sorry, I don't know you you but I know a you?
Location <NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side
Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse. At the front of the short line formed at the counter, a young pale-skinned woman with blonde hair is still contemplating her options. "--then I was thinking an americano but I started to get a bad feeling, I have to trust my instincts, so maybe a moch- oh but that's probably a bit too rich right now. Possibly a latte? A soy latte- oh no, I'm getting that feeling again, one sec..." Meanwhile, Heather is in second position. Her purple ski goggles obscure exactly where she is looking, but she is waiting with waning patience behind the indecisive woman. Her bright magenta jacket has a few tears in it, and the zipper is stuck midway up the track, but it seems appropriate enough in the weather, along with the warm looking training pants she wears that are a sunset gradient blue with multicolor stars on them, and what is visible of her shirt is an orange California Raisins tee depicting a sunglassed raisin dressed in devil garb with the words RAISIN HELL in large print. She is starting to tap her foot audibly, shifting between various stances in her uncanny fast forward motion, occasionally checking on her watch (one on either wrist, one a simple analog watch and the other a bulky red digital watch that could be mistaken for a toy) to keep track of how much time is actually passing here. At a corner table, with a great view of the line to the counter, Naomi's eyes have gone wide-wide since Heather appeared inside the cafe. She dropped her spoon in shock, initially, and there's a little bit of orange soup stain still on her grey Xavier's hoodie that she hasn't bothered to wipe up. She keeps staring, hardly blinking, as she finishes her soup and wipes her hands on her faded blue jeans. Keeps staring as she tucks the little cookie for dessert into the hoodie pocket, keeps staring as she grabs her mug and gets back in line for a refill on her hot chocolate. Keeps staring as she whispers "Let me cut, please!" to the third person in the short lineup, eyes glowing and fading as she cuts in behind -- "Hi, are you Timeslip?" The woman in the front continues to decide and undecide on drinks in succession, sounding very apologetic to the barrista but still moving on through it. Heather is interrupted in her impatient fidgeting by this person cutting in line behind her. Her eyebrows raise slightly as she looks back and whips out her recorder to play back to Naomi, "Have I met you? Most people call me Heather. I also go by Timeslip sometimes. Usually only people I know use it. Do I have a reputation?" She looks back over her shoulder and around to see if there are any other eyes on her and then back to Naomi as the recording continues. "Do you require a math tutor?" Now Naomi blinks. Audacity carried her this far, and now that Heather is addressing her the nerve seems to fade from her skinny frame entirely. "Heather," she repeats, eyes dropping to the recorder then back to Heather's face. "I didn't -- sorry, I don't know you you but I know a you? I don't know if that counts as a reputation." There's a sound of scales slipping against each other. "I might need a math tutor, actually. I didn't know you taught math." Finally, the woman in the front says, also seeming a bit exhausted at her own indecision, "I'll just get a bottle of iced tea. Yes. A bottle of iced tea, that's fine..." Heather glances backwards, seeming relieved that at least a decision there has been made, but turns her attention back to Naomi. "You know a me? A clone? At night I split into copies? A psychic projection of my mind? A parallel universe? Time traveller? An AI that thinks it is me? Yes. I tutor in math. I like math a lot. It is very consistent." She crosses her arms momentarily. "What are you doing meeting mes?" There's a very quiet jingle of bells above the door. Leo doesn't make much fuss as he slips inside, but even in the sparsely populated cafe there's a few stares and whispers that track him as he slips across to the line. He's dressed a bit formally for Evolve, his grey coat open over a black slim-fit suit with gold satin lining and gold contrast buttonhole on the cuff, pale blue shirt, deep blue tie with subtle embossed wave motif, and black loafers. He's unwinding a soft felt yellow-black striped scarf from around his neck as he joins Heather in the line, making his softspoken apologies: "Sorry to keep you waiting, I think half my church has covid. -- Hello." This, with a small nod to Naomi, his eyes tracking briefly over the scales and then down to the ends of his scarf. Naomi nods and shakes her head in time with the recording - nod, shake, shake, nod, shake shake. "Math is hard but I think that's because my tutor got stuck in another world - the same one I met other-you oh shit." The way Naomi's head jerks back while the rest of her stays more-or-less in place is almost snakelike. Her eyes are wide-wide as she takes in Leo. "Uh. Vector. Hi." The blonde woman picks up her tea and pays gratefully for the drink, and when she turns around she immediately gets surprised by both seeing the Leo Concepcion and also seeing Naomi's eyes. She tosses the bottle up in that surprise, then fumbles with it a few times before catching it. Her cheeks turn red and she mumbles some apologies, lowers her gaze and hurriedly heads towards the exit. Heather retrieves from her jacket pocket both a written order and the exact amount of change required to purchase it and offers it to the barrista, before she says to Leo, "I was in line forever anyways. This girl knows a clone parallel universe me. Also you. Because," her gaze turns to Naomi as her voice continues to play. "His name is Leo, not Vector. He does not do linear algebra." Leo's eyes widen, his cheeks darkening. "My name is Leo," he affirms, quiet but firm. "How did you..." He trails off, glancing to Heather with a small furrow of brows. He's a little flustered as he turns to the barista, fumbling his wallet from his coat pocket and giving his order somewhat apologetically for a honey-pumpkin latte and pho. He's looking curiously at Naomi as he steps aside from the line. "Are you also from another universe?" "Leo," Naomi repeats, attempting and failing to look like she is not freaking out. "No, I'm from this one. I just, um, visited the other one. Um." She pulls on the drawstrings of her hoodie with her free hand, shrinking into the garment. "Sorry? Sorry. I was just --" she gestures with the mug, setting it down and quickly asking for another suspended hot chocolate. "Sorry. I just -- haven't seen y'all. Here. In this world. Before." "This world is where we live. Seeing us elsewhere is the greater coincidence." Heather pushes her tangle of hair thick hair back over her shoulder and then contemplates Naomi. "I hoped it was time travel. Then I could have taught me time travel. But parallel universe is fine. How did you meet us? I apologize for any trouble and take credit for any benefit I brought you." "You met the other me?" Leo winces at this, hands wringing at the ends of his scarf. Then smoothing them out, pressing hard into the felt. "I'm sorry. Was he -- I'm sorry." He studies Naomi for a moment, brows still furrowed. "I'm glad you made it home safely. I've heard -- not excellent reviews. From there." "Um. You were saving my friends?" Naomi's voice, not the loudest in the cafe, drops to almost a whisper as she says this. She glances anxiously to the baristas, to the cups in line with the three of their drinks. "Both of you? You were working together?" These aren't really questions, but her voice upticks at the end anyway, unsure of herself. "I helped you. Them. It was really -- You know about it? Oh I guess you know Captain America and he was there when we came home that makes sense." She doesn't sound so sure on this conclusion. "I have not heard reviews. I did know about a parallel world. But little that happened there," says Heather. She picks up her drink when it is served and gestures with it (carefully, slowly) in Naomi's direction. "I am sorry your friends needed saving. Were they saved successfully? If Leo and I worked together I expect--" She looks in Leo's direction, an eyebrow quirked as if evaluating him. "We are each capable of helpfulness." "It was really --?" Leo's eyebrows tick up, questioning. "I am friends with Steve, but I didn't hear from -- I met another person. From there. He said --" His brows crumple further inward. "He mentioned Vector. I'm -- glad if he could be helpful. I mostly heard..." His head shakes, briefly. "I have no idea how you get to a whole other world but I imagine that must have been -- frightening. Your friends were lucky to have you, if you helped -- u -- them. Get home." Naomi pulls the refilled hot chocolate from the counter and holds it close to her, both hands wrapping around the mug. "Um. Yes? I guess it was successful?" A bit of whipped cream threatens to spill off the side of the mug as she begins to breath faster. "It was really frightening and scary and y'all had me ki--" She shuts her mouth quickly, swallowing the last syllable. "Not y'all. Them. Sorry." Heather's eyebrows furrow for a second at the cut off word from Naomi, and she glances again towards Leo. "It is good you and your friends were able to return. It seems difficult." She glances about and then places her cup on a nearby table, again looking towards the counter. "But I again apologize for my other self. She likely makes decisions by similar processes as me. So under such circumstances I cannot say I would not have asked the same. But we have different experiences to draw on." Leo is quiet, collecting his order and following Heather to the table. His fingers squeeze again at his scarf as he leans up against the back of a chair. "From what I have heard," he says carefully, "that world was trying very hard to kill you all. If you did what you had to do to keep your friends safe and make it home alive --" He turns his hands up in front of him. "I'm very sorry you had to, but I am glad they had someone with them willing to keep them safe. Sometimes that takes -- hard choices." It’s a moment before Naomi follows in Leo and Heather’s wake — there’s a quick glow of green as she stares into her mug and mutters “Calm down, Naomi” quietly. She doesn’t seem much calmer when she catches up, but her hands are a touch steadier. She doesn’t sit. “I didn’t — I wouldn’t have, not on my own, I messed up real bad before I met the other y’all and I just needed to fix it. It didn’t feel like there was a choice.” She bites her lip, looks at both the adults. “I — yall aren’t like them, though, right? Y’all teach math and cure plagues y’all don’t ask freshmen to mur—“ She stutters on the syllable, but manages to finish, “—der people, right?” "I can count on no hands the number of times I have requested a freshman do murder. I have to assume I am in some ways like my counterpart. If she chose the name Timeslip she likely shares some key traits with me. Still. I would like to believe that under most circumstances I would not," says Heather contemplatively. "What happened that you needed to fix? Did you contribute to their trouble?" "Messed up? Messed up -- on the scale of murder?" Leo slowly shrugs out of his coat, draping it over the back of the chair he's leaning against. He shakes his head slowly. "I -- haven't ever asked anyone to do murder, no. I'm. Sorry. I know it's awful to feel like your only option..." He trails off, head bowing momentarily. "Some of us are trying to make sure no mutant children will ever feel backed into those same corners in this world." Now Naomi does drop into a chair, liquid spilling over the side of the mug as she sets it none too gently down on the table. Her eyes flit to Leo, to Heather, then down to her lap as she scrapes silver polish off her thumbnails. “Messed up like get all your classmates shot at by robots and then half of ‘em go an’ get put in prison. So when not-y’all-y’all went t’ bust ‘em out I went too cuz I make people listen to me and I thought just stopping them guards was enough but it wasn’t.” When she looks up the corners of her eyes are a little wet. “Sorry, Miss Guthrie said I should’ve stayed in counselling but I needed the free period for math homework. Who’s us?” Heather squeaks something, but it does not make it to the phase where she actually transmits the more comprehensible version. She rubs her chin thoughtfully and plays, "A general us. I would include myself in that us. I did not have many options as a child. I want others to have more than I had, and not less." She taps her cheek a few times rapidly, her eyebrows pinch together for a moment. "While I find math therapeutic, emotional well-being is almost as important. Guilt is burdensome. More counselling may be beneficial." Leo lifts his hand to his mouth, knuckles resting lightly against his lips as Naomi speaks. "From what I've heard, you were in a world where mutants were locked up and persecuted just for existing. I've -- had people I love --" He hesitates, a very brief tightness in his shoulders. "-- hurt, too, because of me, and spent so long wondering what I could have done differently to stop it. But I didn't make the world hate us, and neither did you." He pulls his chair out, settling himself very upright down into it. "What's your name?" “I don’t think math’s that neat it just takes me extra time an’ I don’t like thinking about this stuff.” Naomi ‘s cheeks have begun to flush dark with embarrassment. She shrinks further into her hoodie, shoulders pulled up up up towards her ears. She nods once, looks up at Leo with wide green eyes when he pauses. “Oh— Naomi. Winters. I go to —“ She gestures down at the school name on her chest. “It’s, um, nice to meet y’all. You’re both much nicer here.” Heather takes a drink from her cup as her voice plays. "Heather Brown. It makes sense that you would not like to think about it. There are elements of my life that I prefer not to think on. You went through something. Something hard. It can be difficult." She pauses just a moment (literally, hitting pause and then play), "I am glad that we are nicer. We got off on the wrong foot by introducing you to the wrong selves first." "Naomi," Leo repeats with a small nod. "It can be hard to be kind when the world is cruel. I'm glad we can meet under better circumstances." He's stirring slowly at his soup, watching the noodles swirl in the bowl. "Are there good people, at that --" His fingers wave toward Naomi's hoodie. "I know when I went through -- something terrible, all the counseling in the world didn't help half as much as the community I had around me afterwards." Naomi smiles a touch at ‘wrong selves’. “Uh, yeah, the teachers are mostly nice? And I got some friends. And my brother. Ionno if that’s community, exactly.” She sips at her drink again, gazing at a midpoint between Heather and Leo’s heads. “How long did it take y’all? To forget the scary terrible things or to recover or to just not think so much about them?” "I was sent here from St. Louis. It was hard when I was alone. But I found some good people who helped me. It sounds like you have some good people too." Heather nods a few times, though while the message plays she zips up to the front to get a brownie and returns just as quick before the second part continues: "I have not forgotten. It informs my choices. Why I do things. What I believe. But the sting is less. Especially when I keep busy helping people." Leo is quiet a fair while, though the pause is somewhat covered by Heather's reply and a slow swallow of his coffee. He tips his cup towards Heather after her message finishes playing. "I don't forget. Those things are always with me, and my life would probably look very different otherwise." He sets his cup down in front of him, fingers fidgeting restlessly against its side. "I don't think healing happens on a timeline like that. Some days, those memories buoy my work -- help me fight to help other people. Some days it's still hard to get out of bed. Maybe it'll always be like that. But there's more good days than bad, now, and there used to be a lot more bad days than good. I think if you do what you can with the good days and don't beat yourself up over the bad ones --" His shoulder hitches up in a small shrug. "It may never go away, but it doesn't have to drown you." Naomi’s responding “oh” is small and only a little disappointed, focus dropping back to her hot chocolate. She takes another small sip. “I’m no good at swimming. Or helping people, seems like.” The scales on her forehead creak as her brow furrows. “Does that get easier? Helping instead of hurting people? It’s so easy to hurt people with what I can do an’ I can’t figure out how to help.” Heather seems to think for a moment before she fiddles with her recorder again to answer. "Hurting people still happens. You cannot be harmless. But you can pay attention. Understand what people want, need. Maintain a dialogue. Determine your approach based on that." She shrugs in a jerky motion and looks towards Leo. "If you cure a pandemic you are at an advantage." Leo smooths a hand down at his tie, his lips compressing slightly at this exchange. His head tips down, eyes fixing on his untouched soup. "Mmm." He sounds just a little distant. "It takes. Practice. Learning how to do more than just..." He trails off, fingers starting to crumple at the base of his tie before he catches himself, smooths it back out. "Besides," this comes a little bit lighter, "it doesn't take powers to hurt, or to help." Naomi nods, lips pressed together as the adults impart their wisdom. “Y’all sound like some o’ my teachers a lil bit. But, like, less condescending.” She glances down at her hoodie, over at Leo’s untouched food, and begins to stand. “Um. Sorry for crashing your lunch. Thanks for the — advice? For being cool about the other world thing.” "It's okay. It was probably weird for you. I am glad that I was able to be cool." Heather flashes up the same sign of the horns that the raisin on her shirt is holding up. She glances towards Leo again, and then back to Naomi. "Good luck figuring it out and try not to be too hard on yourself." "It's fine," Leo replies, with a small dip of his head. "I'm sorry about the. Other. Us." His nose wrinkles delicately. "I think I'vebeen a teacher too long to help sounding like one, but I'm sorry for that too." It's only now that he picks up his chopsticks, twirling up a small load of noodles. "Stay safe, yeah?" Naomi extracts herself from her seat all the way now, finishing the hot chocolate in one gulp. “I wouldn’t mind learning from y’all I think. You stay safe too.” She looks like she’s about to say something else, but instead she holds up her hand into some horns like Heather. Waggles the hand once before tucking it into her hoodie pocket, turning on her heel and exiting the cafe.