ArchivedLogs:Not Just Pleasantry

Not Just Pleasantry
Dramatis Personae Daniel, Jax, Mary
In Absentia	2014-11-07 ... but pleasant, all the same.
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 plentiful 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. As frequently happens, she's got on some 'Stark Glass' glasses. What for? Video playback! Right now, the woman has elected for glass eye instead of eye patch, and has found herself seated with one ankle thrown over a knee. She even has a half-eaten bowl of soup and a coffee beside her on the table. By the level with which she has sunken into the comfy sofa, she has apparently been here a little bit. There will likely be a Mary-shaped indention when she leaves. One finger twirls a ring, while the other hand drifts over a tablet in a rapid tattoo. All in all, she certainly LOOKS intent on her multi-tasking, since her soup and coffee have both long since gone cold. Right now, she has failed to garner any company, probably due to the unsettling nature of her appearance. It's not the scar or the eye. Easy enough to overlook in New York's bright and colorful panoply, especially in such an establishment. It's the real lack of body language that people should have. Like someone made a humanoid robot and forgot to program it in. Real 'uncanny valley' sort of stuff. For all that, she's not exactly threatening, either. Just... bizarrely neutral. The establishment itself, with kids off of school, is drawing a pretty impressive patronage right now. Various peoples are currently crowding in for their caffeine, snack, or social fix. It's Friday, after all, which means most people who enjoy places like this have a good reason to be there. Speaking of bright and colourful, the bells jingling over the door right now are heralding one /very/ bright and colourful patron. Jax is glitter-bright from tip to toes, silver-threaded blue cap pulled down over floppy brightly-dyed hair (peacocky shades of purple-blue-green, right now), a brightly colour-blocked sweatshirt in rainbow shades, long-sleeved blue tee underneath that with silver peacock-feathers embroidered into it, black skinny jeans, tall shiny silver knee-high boots. Glittery silver-blue makeup over his eye, fingernails painted bright metallic purple-chrome. Despite it being indoors and eveningtime he's wearing sunglasses, huge and mirror-lensed. His arms are laden, two large containers in them that he is carrying over to the counters; the semi-opaque plastic shows the outlines of cookies in both, and with this passport he skips the line to instead deposit them straight atop the display counter. "Ohmygosh," he's saying to the girl behind the counter, "it's gettin' on winter /way/ too -- oh hey!" Maybe Mary's strange body language has caught his eye, cuz he's glancing that way with a lift of pierced brows. "I know you. Well no no wait I don't. Yet." Daniel enters with a huff, tossing an extinguished cigarette butt over his shoulder. He's dressed in his typical leather jacket, this time accompanied by dark denim pants and biker boots. His destination seems to be the counter. He waits his turn in line (impatiently) and leaves with a simple black coffee, moving for a table not so far from the woman with Stark Glass and cold soup. It doesn't take him long to start mumbling while he fidgets with the coffee in his hands. "Fucking sewers.." he mutters entirely too loud. A hand comes up to run through his beard. "Almost as bad as living in a fucking /warehouse/." He seems pissed, and probably thinks he's being quiet. Or doesn't care. She notices the man of course. She may have one eye and be multi-tasking heavily, but she's observant, and that's her THING. Also, Jax is hard to miss. So, there's that. The woman rises in that smooth, sudden, mechanical, and often all-to-boneless seeming manner she has. Tapping something on the ear-piece of her glasses, she takes them off, folds them, and puts them, along with the tablet in her pocket. She is about to approach the colorful gent when Daniel's muttering catches her eye,"Careful. Someone might take you for ill and give you permanent accomodations that you don't wish." It's practically murmured, as she taps the side of her nose.. Then she's approaching Jax with that careful, measured, unvarying click-click-click of her shoes, a hand stuck out, her voice still soft and toneless as ever,"Well, you're easy enough to identify Mr. Holland-Zedner. You ARE one of young Shane Holland-Zedner's parents yes?" She looks at the containers and lifts one eyebrow,"Do you want assistance with those, or is it taken care of? You are correct, of course. We haven't met. Doctor Mary Carruthers. I am pleased to meet you." The last is more informative than pleasantry. Behind the huge sunglasses it's hard to /read/ much of Jax's expression but there's a definite brief freezing of his posture as he watches Mary move, the slightest downward pull of his brows. He does light up with a /warm/ smile once she's actually near, though, extending his hand with its missing finger to shake hers firmly. His grip is calloused-rough, hand peppered with scars, and his touch is warmer still than his smile, a heat to his skin that feels quite unhealthily feverish. "Y'like cookies? I got pumpkin an' mocha. Seems like nice cold-weather type'a --" He flicks his other hand towards the cookies on the counter. "... I'm Shane's pa, yeah." This sounds maaaybe just the tiniest bit wary. "Why, did he --" But this question is aborted as he looks over towards Daniel, faintly puzzled. "-- What y'traipsin' around the sewers for? Ain't hardly the first place people look for hospitality. /You/ need some cookies?" Clearly, a cure-all for difficult sewer-nights. "Because there's a hole to it in the place I was sleeping.. Fell down it. Broke both my ankles." Daniels replies irritably. He raises his coffee a bit. "Was done there for almost a day before I was able to get out." there's a moment before he seems to realize Jax mentioned cookies. "No, not at the moment. Not really in a cookie mood, thanks for asking though.. Shane the kid that owns this place? Thought Micah was his dad.. Think anyway. Ran into them twice." his brows furrow in thought for a moment, "Maybe. Ran into a lot of people. Might confuse faces." "I would take you up on it, but I suspect my wife would be poorly-pleased if I were to spoil my dinner. Though our daughter has, as most children do, developed a love of sugar. Even carob, oddly." Mary pauses at the warmth she feels when she accepts the man's hand, her eye dilating until there are almost no iris, albeit briefly. "I was going to ask if you were feeling ill... but obviously you're not." As if the man's question were not aborted, she goes on, "You were worried he was in trouble. No. I find Shane refreshing to communicate with, as well as a pleasantly enthusiastic student. I learned much observing him fence. He expressed some interest in one of my newer classes, and some extra curricular instruction." Yeah. She found him pleasant. "He seems to take direction well." Her impression anyway. "Also, I needed to get your permission for instructing him in something, and my wife wished for me to extend a dinner invitation to you and your family." She turns fully to face Daniel at this point, also examining him,"You heal quickly." Merely an observation,"Perhaps a cookie AFTER a meal. And maybe some medical examination? There are many good clinics, depending on your need." "Oh, you got a little'n?" Jax's smile is bright there, too. "-- Nah I'm feelin' good it. -- Yeah, Shane owns this place. Micah /is/ his dad. M'husband," he explains with a very faint flush. "-- broke /both/ your -- um, d'you need no help or nothin'?" His teeth scrape lightly against his lower lip, but -- whatever concern he's feeling at Daniel's broken joints vanishes in a sudden /startled/ -- almost shock as Mary goes on. His brows lift, head tilting like he's not /entirely/ parsing what she's saying -- but his smile widens and this time he /literally/ brightens, a warm flush of glow spreading beneath his skin and lighting the air around him. "You -- you found Shane -- oh /gosh/." With a sudden rocking forward onto his toes he throws his arms around Mary in a sudden /hug/ that he pulls back from just as suddenly, blushing. "-- 'pologies," he says bashfully, "I didn't -- s'jus' don't no teachers ever -- oh. Oh wow. -- Instructing? Dinner? I -- hm?" Maybe in the face of a teacher saying they /like/ Shane this is too much information to absorb at once. "Snap." Daniel replies dryly. "Both of them.. But yeah, healing quickly. It's the only upside to a curse." he takes a sip from his coffee. "Ate up everything in Chinatown." He watches Jax and Mary for a moment. "Shane didn't seem that bad.. When he isn't angry. Rude when he's upset. But other than that, good kid." She would probably be startled all to hell (really she is). Thankfully, she is spared from having to display THAT embarassing reaction by simple lack of normal physiological responses. It DOES take a moment for Mary to move her arm around the man and pat him on the back gently. "No, it's quite alright. My wife is often equally demonstrative. She jokes that she has to be, for the both of us." As for the comments on Shane? "I find he is more direct, than rude. I suspect he sees little point in participating in societal behavior that he never elected to 'buy into'. For example, I merely told him not to perform a particular behavior towards me as I disliked it. He neither asked for my reason, nor argued, merely ceased the objectionable behavior without question. I suspect his manner is often misunderstood for other than it is." She actually fishes her tablet out of her pocket and asks,"I didn't get your email address as I hadn't thought I would need it quite so early, but I have some permission slips to send you and parental queries about class participation for next semester." It's all very official. She turns her eyes on Daniel,"Healing well and healing correctly may not be the same thing. Still, if you knowingly reject assistance, then I shall not press you. Still, I would think a little effort might find you more suitable accomodations than the sewers." "'pologies," Jax says again, sheepishly, "m'usually better about -- askin' first -- I jus'. It's usually -- oh, wow, I think you actually /get/ him. Hardly nobody ever /gets/ him, y'know? Teachers act like he's such a monsters when he actually -- jus' don't really -- buy into the whole Authority Figure thing. I mean, he'll treat everyone with respect /because they're a person/, but assumin' you get respect because you're /older/ s'jus' kinda --" He blushes, shaking his head again. "... m'ramblin', I didn't mean to. But yeah. He's -- he's a /good/ kind. And, um, my address, it's, uh, littlemisssunshine at Xavier's." The glow around him warms further as he says this. "-- Healin' quickly /can/ be a curse," he adds thoughtfully. "/Especially/ with musculoskeletal kinda things? Like I got no end of friends who heal fantastic, but, if you've broke a /joint/ or a bone, healin' it quickly can mean healin' it /wrong/. Cuz it's set wrong when it heals, so --" He crinkles his nose up, dipping his head. This time he circles a fist apologetically over his heart. "-- I work in a Clinic an' m'husband's in O&P so I kinda. Get a lottta. Um. Right. But if you're okay." "Actually plan on making sure.. Messed up ankles is one of the last things I need." Daniel replies with a slight hitch of his shoulders. "Anyway.. Any problem areas around here? Drug dealers, those gang assholes, terrorists, any of that shit? Planned on moving in out here, once I get my shit together anyway. Just wanted to see if I was heading into a problem area." "No. It's fine. I am simply not accustomed to inspiring warmth in most people. It wasn't necessary in my previous profession." Whatever that could possibly be. Mary goes on,"I'm an amateur practicioner of radical honesty, so Shane's approach makes more sense to me than not. Where I am an expert in a matter, I expect him to defer BECAUSE I am an expert. I do NOT expect him to RESPECT me on any matter, however. Respect is given at one's own behest, and cannot be commanded. As long as Shane is happy, healthy, and functional, I feel no desire to curb his behavior, demand his favor, or question his choices. After all, there are likely many areas of Shane's life and talents where I am unlikely to either understand the nuances involved or match his expertise. I also believe assuming one person's goals, desires, and needs are the same as one's own are the height of hubris. Your son is fine as he is, and as is often said 'don't mess with success'. His life works for him, and I do not see any great desire on his part to actively interfere with the function of the lives of others." The woman taps out something on her notepad,"I'm afraid my email is much less colorful. It is mcarruthers." Eye swivels back to Daniel at this,"If there are, I would kindly like to know. Some of my previous past associations have professional interest in such problems." A pause follows, and then she goes on,"You've heard my email. Do fire one off to me if you require some assistance in seeing to your health or settlement. My wife is very good at arranging accomodation for people." The warm glow Jax wears doesn't seem to be going away any time soon. "-- I think you an' he are gonna get along jus' fine." He sounds /so/ very pleased about this. "It can be hard for him. The way school is set up don't always work so great for every student, an' a lot of people have trouble -- but he's great when y'/do/ give him a chance. An' he's /bright/ an' works hard an' -- jus' ain't been so many people /encouragin'/ him in what he /is/ good at 'cuz the places they think he's wrong stand out so loud. But I mean, jus' cuz he ain't so keen on sittin' still in a classroom --" His hand gestures around the busy cafe, apparently /owned/ by Shane despite still being in high school. "-- he's jus' got different strengths. An'," he adds with a warmer laugh, "think praisin' m'kid is a /right/ quick way to inspire warmth in me." Once more his brows lift, questioning, from behind his sunglasses. "-- s'your previous profession?" It's quietly curious. Just as curious, he turns his attention back to Daniel: "You new t'the area? Where y'comin' in from, what's brought you here? There's some areas rougher than others, that's for sure. But, uh, /terrorists/, that -- ain't exactly most people's top concern in movin' in the city, that's uhhhh..." His voice is skewing a little puzzled, at Daniel. "Anyway, you ask the government half'a everyone's a terrorist. /I'm/ up there with the most famous terrorists we /got/ so y'probably don't want to move in /this/ neighborhood if that's a concern." He shifts slightly, digging one hand into his pocket when his phone buzzes. A briefer smile flits aross his lips as he reads it. "... rocks? For real?" Daniel lifts his shoulders in a slight shrug. "Born and raised in Cypress Hills. Left a few years ago after my sister died.. Been here and there. Back now. The house I grew up in is empty.. No idea what happened there." he takes another, and slightly longer, sip from his coffee. "I'm probably on that list too.. Without a doubt. Skeletal bikers usually make that list." He reaches into his jacket to tug out a pack of Marlboro red, placing an unlit cigarette between his lips before depositing the rest of the pack once more. "These damn things are going to kill me.." he mutters lightly before looking back over at the pair. "But, yeah. More worried about the kind that attacked Liberty Island, or the kind the government employs to research on us." "His challenges will always be great, Mr. Holland-Zedner, but... I think he is equal to them. I can promise you, I will never have an insincere word for him, nor will any action be unconsidered. As you seem so very concerned, though, do use my contact information if you have any questions or concerns that I may be able to help with, both as fellow parent and colleague. Interested children and interested parents make this job more bearable." A pause, and she offers,"I am uncomfortable in saying so, for I dislike casting away engendered warmth towards myself, but... I am only speaking my mind on your child because this is the truth as I see it, not to inspire warmth. Still, I am glad my remarks find your heart at ease." As for her previous profession,"A veteran field consultant for a private security corporation." Or, more politely read, 'elite soldier for a PMC'. "Rocks. Yes. He showed an interest, and I decided since I have the requisite skill to impart... Well, the thought that was that if you felt it was inappropriate, then you would not sign the permission slip and I would let that be the end of it." She turns to the counter to signal for some tea, as well as peeling out a few dollar bills. "If they are going to kill you, mightn't it not be better to discontinue them?" The woman seems... curious at least. "I suspect matters with the government and terrorists will shake out as they often do.... Concluded by highly motivated or talented individuals at the behest of large numbers of people. Life is full of peoples' wills pushing against one another. One can do little but add one's will, and if you have them, talents, to the pushing and hope it all falls out somewhere close to where you hoped. Are you, then, such a victim?" Jax gives Daniel a /puzzled/ look at the mention of government research. He turns his look down to his own hand, biting at his lip, then back up to Daniel. "Huh. You don't. Watch much news, do you?" He rubs at the back of his neck, not any less puzzled at the mention of skeletal bikers. "... y'don't look all that, um -- you /sure/ you don't want no cookies?" Because obviously the solution to skeletal is to feed him more! "Actually, makes me even warmer that you're sayin' that jus' cuz that's how you really seen him. An', I'm more'n okay with him learnin' that. Jus' ain't the kinda permission slip I ever had before. I guess you, uh. Would. Know plenty about that. Kind subject." This time his teeth gnaw at the inside of his cheek. "He wasn't a Promethean, no." Despite not knowing Daniel he answers /this/ with confidence. "... don't know if he was at Liberty Island." "I don't watch the news much, no. Plan on changing that once I can get a job and a place to stay." Daniel admits. "And.. Maybe /one/ cookie." he submits. "Extent of my knowledge is what I hear when I get out... Though I couldn't tell you much. Unless you want to know what's wrong with your bike, or the places not to squat." A had comes up to scratch at his cheek and the cigarette moves to the other side of his mouth. "I do know I need to get a job soon though, before the cash runs out and my bike is just to look at." She doesn't exactly give him a puzzled look. Just... a look. Then she leans over and murmurs to Jax as quietly as she can manage and still be heard,"He seems to have been living on the street. Perhaps it would behoove us to seek professional medical accomodations for less tangible health issues on his behalf." Then Mary straightens up again,"Well then, I hope between the two of us, your son and I shall keep you on your toes." She reaches for a cookie, and then points at Daniel as if to ask permission to provide him with one of the cookies. "If you're not particular about the kind of work, I may know of some employment. It is not glamorous, and it doesn't pay well, but it's garaunteed." "Yeah, what kinda work you lookin' for, s'probably options out there but -- ain't all gonna be fun." Jax nods permissively at the cookies. "As for a place t'stay --" He's glanced to Mary with a small nod, teeth scraping against his lip. "Well, I know kinda a few folks what can offer help if you're in difficulties? One'a my real good friends works at a shelter that -- has people who can help with all kindsa stuff. Includin' job huntin'." Mary nods a little bit to pull a notepad from an inside coat-pocket. She begins scribbling an address on it, then tears off the paper and offers it and then pen over to Jax,"I put an address on there for somebody who needs a person to wash floors and call the police if someone tries to steal the beer during the day. It's not much, like I said, but... Mr. Holland-Zedner, if you have any other addresses to add?" She steps back to let the man take a cookie. Daniel pushes up and heads over towards the pair. "Not really into shelters.. Usually only head that way to shower. Got a bit of cash, might be able to get a place near here." he lifts his shoulders in a shrug and either takes one, or whatever was offered towards him. "But, any kind of work is good work. As long as it isn't nights." he plucks the cigarette from his mouth and tucks it into a pocket. "Micah can tell you why that might not be a great idea." "Could do, maybe. Prices dropped since zombie-times -- though, admittedly, mostly ain't dropped /so/ much as to be /real/ affordable without sharin'." Jax sounds the sort of weary here that is kind of /habitual/ after too-long-in-New-York. "Uh..." He looks puzzled at the reference to his husband and nights. "Oh -- kay. Um. I know a company usually lookin' for day laborers. It ain't real glamorous I mean there's jus' like. Liftin' things -- fair bit'a snow plowin' in winters -- got a couple friends work construction an', like, warehouse-loadin' for 'em on an' off." He adds an address and a number to the paper, handwriting neat and spiky. "Oh -- gosh, though, speakin' of work I best be gettin' /home/ if I want t'feed my kid 'fore I got to get off to -- was nice meetin' you. Both you. An' good luck," he adds to Daniel, and to Mary: "I'll ping you soon? 'bout that dinner? Know Micah an' I'd be real happy t'meet your family." His fingers curl in a shiny-nailed wave goodbye. Daniel brings his free hand up to his temple for a moment, before nodding and taking the paper. "Thanks.. Name's Daniel, can call me Dan or Danny. Don't mind. I really should be getting out of here." There's another wince and he promptly turns to head out, but doesn't make it all the way before he hunches over. Soon enough flames engulf the man, it takes only a few seconds for him to be replaces by a flaming skeleton. He straightens himself and adjusts his coat before heading out the door. The woman raises her hand in farewell to Jax after giving the now more-full piece of paper over to Daniel,"He makes a good point, Rainy and Erin will become absolutely shrill if I miss 'numnums' again." She says 'numnums' as if it were some strange foreign word. "I shall look forward to your message. It was pleasant to meet you as well." And then she looks to Daniel, and says,"Check out the addresses. Noone is saying you MUST take the jobs... But they're there. Just for the taking." She turns to leave as well, as if 'family' were catching.