ArchivedLogs:Hiding in Plain Sight

Hiding in Plain Sight
Dramatis Personae Alex, Mallory, Thomas
In Absentia	2014-11-26 Conversation about food, hiding, and birds
Location <NYC> Central Park South
Central Park South is home not just to the park itself, but also to the Belvedere Castle, the Alice in Wonderland statues, and the Central Park Zoo. These areas tend to draw tourists like a magnet - it is, perhaps, for that very reason that places like Bethesda Terrace tend to attract more New Yorkers than not, if just to escape the press of tourism that infiltrates the whole city. With the winter almost upon the city and darkness setting earlier and earlier, there are few people at the Bethesda Terrace. A couple, finishing up a date and striding along the terrace towards the streets beyond, and a hot-dog vendor lazily packing up his truck up on the upper platform. Down alongside the fountain, the only occupant is a single black bird - a raven - pecking at bits of dropped pretzel. Despite the gusts of wind, the only sign of it on the terrace is a few stray leaves that fall occasionally onto the ground below, fountain and promenade both shielded by the wind by the tall walls that line it. The bird hops along on a bench, head tilting back and forth as it studies the surroundings and then quick-flash attacks a piece of food that had been dropped earlier. Dressed for the weather, Thomas has on a page boy's cap and a comfortable looking wool coat with a scarf. "Winter is so much easier I think, sister dear. More comfortable all around." From a distance it's hard to tell, but up close it's a bit easier to tell that he's wearing make up. Between the hat, gloves and makeup he does look pretty much a human at least. Walking beside the far less human looking individual helps a bit as well, and with the temperature his steamy breath isn't so bad. "Though, getting used to all these American holidays is a bit fun. A holiday devoted to making people eat as much as we normally do is fun to watch." He watches the hot dog vendor go off somewhat wistfully as if he would have liked one, but the coffee in his hand, and the shopping bag off his other arm might have made it difficult anyway. Perhaps a bit underdressed for the damp winter chill in the air, Mallory is dressed in a way that does little to minimize her obvious physical mutations. A pair of black leggings hug her digitigrade legs, tucked in to a pair of white knit leg warmers, while a matching fluffy white sweater tunic hugs her hour-glass figure. Shining black hooves clack sharply against the stone of the path through the park as she walks beside her brother, several bags from a variety of shops around the city swinging freely from her arm. In the occasional light from the overhead lamps, the extent of her mutation is visible - curling black rams horns sweep back from her temples to frame her face, and all of her visible skin is a deep, shadowy red color - including the long, thick tail that sways behind her in time with her gait. Entirely black eyes scan the area around the park idly, lighting on the hot-dog vendor with a bemused smirk, thoug the amusement fades as the vendor starts to pack up and move away at the sight of her. "I do rather enjoy the winter, yes. Could do with a touch less snow, perhaps, but I like it more than the constant rain," Mallory muses, sipping from the large cup of sugary coffee in her free hand. "The holidays are pleasant. Bit torn between which is my favorite. Halloween, or Thanksgiving. Both involve obscene amounts of sugar, candy, treats, and food in general. Just one also comes with costumes." At the glimpse of movement, the raven takes to the air, flying up onto the banister not too far from the pair. Its head tilts from one angle to another, studying them unblinkingly in quick little movements, before it lets out a series of clicks and spreads its wings, hopping out onto the path in front of the two. Head still tilting quickly from one side to another, he jumps on the asphalt back and forth a couple of times, glancing off to the woods for a moment and then back at the couple. Mostly at Mallory, it seems, though Thomas still gets wary looks. "Aye, as long as it isn't like the magic snow of last year. We do not need another episode of Frosty," Thomas says with a bit of an eye roll before taking a sip from his cup of caloric value. "I prefer the Thanksgiving myself. Higher protein contents. Get a tad bit tired of sugars after awhile. And easier to do what needs to be done with it." He shrugs a moment, then a brow raises at the raven taking up it's place in the middle of the path. "Hrm, I wonder if one of our students is attempting a Lassie situation?" He glances at Mallory, then shrugs and leans over to address the bird. "Did a Miss Teal ask you to come get us perhaps?" "I thought the snowpeople were quite charming. Also, the chocolate rain was delicious - I can't say I would object to that again," Mallory defends with a shrug, her English accent crisp and precise, "Also, it was a bit of needed cheer at the time, truth be told." Chuckling, Mallory shrugs, "I can and will live on sugar alone. Which is either devouring Halloween candy, or sticking to the dessert table at dinner. And if you're tired of one sugary treat, there are so many other ones out there to try. Not healthy, but you know how bad of a sweet-tooth I have." This statement comes with a wide grin that shows off pearly, pointed incisors that glint in the light. Mentally, there is a hint of hesitation here which Thomas would likely catch, the barest cringe at a memory of cupcakes. Stopping as the raven moves in front of them, Mallory regards it with a curious look, her entirely black eyes glinting with inner fire. When her twin addresses the bird, she looks quite amused at it. "Perhaps, though I don't really know if most of the birds can understand people once away from her," Mallory adds quietly, leaning over slightly to look closer at the bird in front of them, hands resting on her knee caps in an attempt to look non-threatening to the curious bird. "I'm afraid we don't have much in the way of bird-friendly snacks. My apologies, little one," Mallory speaks with a patient tone, that suggests this is not the first time the English mutant has spoken to a bird as though it could understand her. The raven clacks its beak, once, turning to study Mallory a bit closer. It lets out a series of chirps and then takes to the air, flapping wildly to gain altitude before gliding in a circle around the twins and landing - mostly gently - on Mallory's shoulder. It bobs its head, studying Thomas now from different angles. The raven's talons are sharp but despite the heavy weight, it seems to take some care to not pierce through Mallory's shirt, using partially outstretched wings to keep its balance. "No, I don't know a Miss Teal," A shy, somewhat mumbled voice says, as a figure steps out of the treeline and eyes the two with more wariness than even the birds has. Even with a hood on a tattered jacket over his head, the teenager's half-mouth, half-beak doesn't exactly leave much doubt about his mutant status as he raises his hands in a half-surrendering gesture. "And it's been a bit since I've been to school. Do you have anything in the way of not-bird friendly snacks?" he asks, with a little shrug. "Or could you spare a couple of dollars for me to get some dinner?" "Ah, I see. More like Horus then," Thomas says as he looks towards the fellow. <<Sister dear, an interesting situation don't you think?>> He thinks a bit, going through a mental list of his shoppings. "I have some biscuits in a tin at least that I can spare and easily replace. I'll need to free my hands a bit to get to my wallet though I'm afraid." He looks to his sister in a similar lacking of hands state, and looks about for a place to balance things. Setting his cup down, he rummages through his bag to pull out a circular tin with a variety of chocolate and regular cookies. << Oh dear, >> comes the mental exclaimation as Mallory stiffens up slightly when the bird lands on her shoulder, glancing sideways at the raven with a curious expression. Her breathing is forcedly steady, in through the nose, and slowly out through her mostly closed lips, calming herself down from the surprise of suddenly being a bird-perch. Shifting her purchases and coffee to her opposite arm, Mallory looks curiously at the young man when he finally steps from the treeline. << Interesting. Certainly. Right. >> Mallory snarks back, occasionally glancing sideways at the perched bird. "Hello there, young man," Mallory greets calmly, smiling reassuringly - or at least attempting to, as much as a six food tall horned, hooved, vaguely demonic woman can. "I'm afraid all I have is sweets and some assorted veggies - but you're welcome to them if you'd like," Mallory says, glancing towards the bags slung over her arm, similarly mentally cataloging her purchases. Relaxing at last now that the initial surprise is over, Mallory seems fairly comfortable with the raven perching on her shoulder, she then asks curiously, "Haven't been to school for a bit? That is unfortunate, but sadly not unheard of in many situations." Alex looks warily at the tin of cookies, black-rimmed eyes studying Thomas with more apprehension than the raven seems to show. His steps forward to take it are slow, uneven, as one might approach a sleeping predator, eyes flickering back and forth between Thomas and Mallory. The raven, too, studies both of the twins in the same movements as Alex does, though Alex does not take an exploritory light nibble at one of the horns - a surprisingly delicate motion for a bird's beak. "Don't mind some sweets," Alex says, taking the tin from Thomas and immediately putting a little bit of distance between him and the adults. His eyes flick between the two once more, and he pushes back his hood to reveal a darkly feathered head. He reaches out a hand and the bird perched at Mallory's shoulder pushes off with a sudden movement, a wing flicking gently across a cheek before gliding over to Alex. Almost as soon as it touches his hand, it begins to -- melt, almost, dark feathers and wings lightening to a paler skin color, dissolving into Alex's hand. As it does so, the beak on his face changes too, melting back to lips as his clothes shift oddly on his body. "How do you go out like that?" he asks, curiously. With the hand free, Thomas pulls out his wallet and takes a couple of bills out to offer as well. "I'm Thomas, and this is my sister Mallory by the by," he says with a smile, must maintain politenesses after all. His face twitches slightly as the bird nips at Mallory's horns, and scratches at his own head. <<He's probably too old for the school. A shame really.>> Trying to be light hearted as the boy asks the question he knows is addressed to Mallory, "Oh a half hour of doing make up and the proper outfit will cover up a good bit. Not quite enough for certain things though." Mallory reaches into one of her shopping bag to retrieve a box of assorted truffles and chocolate candies from one of the nicer sweet shops in town, tied up with a little caramel colored ribbon, which she holds out to Alex. There is a decided flinch from her as the bird nips experimentally at the horn - the horn itself is faintly ridged, and hard as nails. Thomas, unfortunately, gets a full share, mentally, of the scraping sensation of beak against horn, accompanied by an apology. << Possibly. I'm a terrible judge of age, >> she thinks absently at Thomas, flinching at the bird kicking off. "Me?" Mallory asks, scratching at the base of the nibbled-upon horn, "Ah, honestly, decades of being told that I could not, should not, and would not go out. And a general desire to no longer live that way." She snorts, shrugging again and watching with interest as the bird vanishes, "Short version is stubbornness. Quite a bit of stubbornness." Alex opens the tin to take a cookie and practically shove it into his now-mouth, chewing it and swallowing before he speaks up once more. "Can't cover up everything," Alex says, shaking his head from side to side for a moment. His eyes fix on Mallory, pausing for longer than they have before, a brief period of stillness in his jumpy glances. "Don't people... stare? Don't they give you problems? Try to beat you up, or...?" He asks, questioningly, approaching the twins once more with a little bit less - little - wariness than the first time, accepting both sweets and money with a grateful smile. His retreat is neither as hasty or as far as it was the time before. "You say it like it's so /easy/." "She is unbelievably stubborn, I have been telling her those concerns for a while," Thomas says and there is a tenseness on his face after Alex provides the list of various ways she could be hurt. A mental pulse passes to Mallory unbidden of that shared dream before it hides behind a mental wall again. "There is a reason I hide the best I can, and have for ages. People tend to accept the easier explanation than look too closely." "I have tried to cover, and to hide before, for years. It was anything but easy," Mallory says quietly, her back straigtening uncomfortably, tail lashing at the memory of the pain suffered for normalcy. "I wouldn't call it easy. I have been harassed. Disowned by almost my entire family. Had holy water thrown on me. Which is /delightful/ in cold weather," she says, voice heavy with sarcasm, "Nothing says innocent citizen quite like the puff of steam that rises from my skin when doused with cold water." She sighs, a shuddering expression at the flash of shared memory from her twin, trying very hard to retain her composure. "People do stare. And give me problems, yes. It is not easy, but neither is hiding so competely," she says, a sidelong glance at Thomas, with his makeup and hat, her eyes lingering on the hat, "Makeup and a hat will only go so far for me. But I have had a bit more time than you have, I imagine, to become used to things. To get comfortable in my own skin, as it were." She pauses, glancing at the young man curiously, "How old are you? If I might ask. If you don't wish to answer, you do not need to." "When I look like a bird, I'm just another bird. No one harasses me, no one throws water on me. Some people even feed me," Alex says, quietly. "It's only a problem when I look like this," he says, gesturing at himself. His eyes slide over to Thomas, and he tilts his head to one side, a rather bird-like gesture even despite the more human-looking face. "So you hide, and she doesn't?" It is asked as a question, though the tone makes it sound more a statement. "I'm eighteen," Alex says, looking at Mallory suspiciously. "So don't even start about foster homes or something like that." "I do, because less of me is problematic than her. Skin color, and my horns are smaller. I can pass, with effort put in, and careful considerations made. Winter is much easier, and in certain seasons I carry around cigarettes. Nobody questions steaming up the air if you have a cig in your lips," Thomas says with a bit of a shrug. Picking up his coffee, he takes a sip and makes a face. "Bleh, I'll have to hold it abit to warm it back up now." He glances to Mallory and shakes his head though at the kids talk of foster homes. <<A bit on the edge there. We had some of those rescues, but I don't think he's much interested. Can leave a business card maybe.>> "Boarding school actually. But to each their own." Mallory winces when Thomas calls her 'problematic,' running a hand along the curve of one of her horns self consciously << Ouch. >> She takes a deep breath and nods, "People can be problematic, unfortunately, and with physical mutations, the distrust and hatred bubbles to the surface far faster. I don't hide, because even when I try to hide, I stand out. To properly pass, I've had to bind my tail, walk with a cane, wear full coverage clothing and skirts, a head covering, dark glasses, and makeup. It makes me just as obvious, and far more uncomfortable. So I refuse to hide anymore." A the worry about the foster homes, Mallory shakes her head swiftly, "No, no. Nothing like that. We work at a school. Wouldn't try and force towards anything, just was seeing if there was any other way we could be of help." She glances towards Thomas and offers a faint shrug, more mental than anything. Alex's tension doesn't so easily wind its way out of his body, attention jumping between the two teachers with a distrustful expression. "A boarding school? What kind of boarding school lets the two of you teach there?" Alex asks, after a brief war between suspicion and curiosity plays out on his face. "Sorry, I don't mean to offend," a Canadian accent mixing into his voice for a moment. "Just... when I think posh boarding school, I don't see people that look like us." <<Sorry, didn't mean it that way...>> Thomas thinks back to Mallory. Watching the boy's tension keeps shifting, he does his best to keep his expression neutral though. "One that is private, and one that has a good reason. We also have work visas. British citizens and all, not exactly something many places would be willing to sponsor for." Smiling, he nods and weighs an option. "We actually have a student who has a similar condition as yourself. Though he has some assistive devices to help him." << I know. Just... >> Mallory's thoughts trail off, and she shakes her head, eyeing Alex, her expression neutral but friendly. "A private school that is open minded in their hiring practices," Mallory explains with a warm smile. "Though we should likely be going soon," she says, shifting the bags in her hand to allow her to access her small clutch purse, pulling a business card out of it to offer to Alex. The card lists her name, along with e-mail, phone, and the title 'head librarian' on it. "Here. If you have trouble, or need some help, let me know? The school might not be your thing, but I might at least be able to point you towards some resources or contacts that might be helpful," Mallory doesn't step forward, or approach, she just holds the card out at arms length, her expression still peacefully neutral. The bird-boy approaches cautiously, taking the card and scuttling backwards to examine it from a farther distance. Teeth furrow at a lip for a moment before he looks up at the twins and nods once, twice. "Alright. Thanks, both of you. For the food, and the money. And... the advice." His smile is small, a darting little quirk of a thing, as he puts the card into one of the pockets on his jacket that doesn't have a hole straight through. He glances around for a moment, then takes a step back. "Have a good night, then." With only one more glance, he darts off back into the treeline that he came from, fleeing back into the dark, wet woods and away from people's staring eyes.