ArchivedLogs:Feathers and Invisibility
Feathers and Invisibility | |
---|---|
Dramatis Personae | |
In Absentia
|
2015-07-06 ' |
Location
<NYC> High Line - Chelsea | |
Built on a freight rail, the High Line once was a railroad and has been reclaimed as green space in the middle of the city. A park situated high above Manhattan, what was once a rusty industrial wasteland is now a stretch of peaceful space to lounge and relax among grass and flowers and plant life. There are restaurants, ice cream sandwich stands, a beer garden, and the view all along the elevated parkland is unbeatable. As the sun begins to make its way down below the horizon, staining the skyscrapers of Manhattan reds and golds, the High Line is, well, high enough to have a good view of Chelsea spread out beneath it. The park is still busy, crowds of people wandering through the grass and flowers, sitting in front of the restaurants or gathered in the beer garden. Against this backdrop, one more artist looking person with a sketchbook in front of them doesn't attract a whole lot of attention, especially when their somewhat tattered grey hoodie is pulled up over their head. It doesn't hurt that he certainly /smells/ hipstery enough, a faint tinging odor of antiseptic and incense covering up a fainter and far less pleasant scent. The pad is full, a mostly finished drawing of a couple, holding hands and staring off into the sunset, spread across its thick paper. Dark brown eyes look out from underneath the hood, glancing at the location where the couple had been - though they have long since moved on to better things. Having made a trip into the city to do a little prep for the stakeout he was planning, Jack's out and about this evening. He's planning on meeting a couple classmates up on the Highline so they can all head back to the school as a group. He's a bit early though. In jeans, sneakers, and a lightweight hoodie of his own, the invisible teen has his hood up and hands in his pockets. While he's looking for a decent place to sit down and wait for his classmates, Jack spots the hoodie-clad artist and hums to himself. After a moment of thought, he starts wandering closer to try to get a peek at what's being drawn. For all the attention Alex is paying to the scene in front of him, eyes going from page up to look at the high line and back to the drawing, it takes a surprising amount of time for him to register the presence of another person -- even longer, probably, since there are only clothes to recognize the person by. When the light does finally go on, though, Alex startles, jumping in his seat and letting out a strange, rough bark of breath from his chest. His hood falls partway back, grey fabric resting against lightly iridescent feathers. "Christ, I didn't see you there, by'." Alex pauses, head tilting as his brown eyes widen, almost comically large against the black-stained backdrop around them. "Or now, really." Jack jumps a little as well when Alex is so surprised. He's not expecting to see feathers either and does a little double-take. It registers a moment later that he's most likely meeting another mutant and he offers an invisible smile. "I'd be surprised if you did," he tries to joke, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't mean to startle you. Lo siento," he murmurs. "That's a pretty good drawing you're working on. Alex tilts his head to one side, ear almost to shoulder and slightly twisted up, a quirk of the head as he examines the lack of Jack. His eyes glance around the little park, warily, before he returns his eyes Jack-wards. "Thanks. Not quite done yet, but hopefully soon." Alex lifts one of his hands to tug the hood back down over his feathers, redness tinging at his cheeks. "Does no one see you, then?" Jack glances to the side to check if anyone caught Alex's reveal. He'd hate it if him startling the guy attracted anti-mutant trouble. "It'll probably be even better finished then. You've got some skill, man," he offers in a friendly tone. His shoulders slump a little at the question and his shakes his head. "Nobody I've met so far can. Not that I'm thinking I will find anyone that can." This answer gets a bit of a closer examination from Alex, turning his head back and forth as if a different angle might change how Jack looks - or doesn't look. "Thanks." Alex says, with a tinge of red in his cheeks. "Je suis desole. I don't mean to pry... I just haven't met anyone who is. Well. Invisible." His smile is slight, embarrassed, and his eyes cast down to the paper. "It's okay," Jack replies with a little chuckle. "I'm used to people asking," he shrugs. "I've met some other invisible people before but they could turn it off. Me? I'm perma-ghost," Jack shrugs again. "Meet anyone else with feathers yet?" he asks, curious. "Birds, mostly." Alex says, shyly. "And one other mutant, though we've never actually met." The artist looks down at the page and finishes off a bit of coloring at a shadow along the railing. "But no one quite the same. Not even close, really." Alex looks up in Jack's direction, curiously. "Have you met a lot of mutants, then? I know the ones I live with, but...." "I've met another one too," Jack replies, wondering if it might be Horus. He doesn't ask though. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that like...outside of twins or something, no two mutants will have the same powers. Least that's how it seems so far. Even doing the same thing ends up getting done different ways...and I'm rambling. Lo siento," he chuckles. There's a nod of his hood-covered head to the question. "Yeah. More here in New York than I ever thought I would. You live around a lot of other mutants?" "Yeah, I live with some others, but. Other than that... I think I've met three. Maybe five, tops. As far as I know, anyway. Some blend in better than others." Alex' smile is faint, and it looks a bit strained around the edge despite the easy tone. "Still more than I'd met anywhere else, but." He spreads one hand out in a shrugging motion, looking around briefly, reflexively. "One is more than zero." Jack lets out a breath and nods. "Yeah...some people got a cool power and don't immediately stand out the second they leave their bed in the morning. Lucky them," Jack murmurs. There's a bit of quiet before Jack forces an invisible smile. "I live with other mutants too," he remarks. The invisible teen lets out a thoughtful hum before he speaks again. "You're not an NYC native either? Where'd you come in from? I stowed away on a train from Jersey to get here." Alex says nothing about these other mutants, lips pressing together into a finer line as his eyes turn back down to continue the drawing, careful precise movements over the page. "Halifax, originally. Then Portland -- Maine. Been here a couple months, though. Since mid-winter, I'd guess. Wasn't exactly near any calendars, eh?" Alex' voice is low and quiet, almost matching the soft scratching of pencil lead on paper. Jack looks as surprised as empty clothes can at that information. "Mid-Winter? That's not too long after I got here," he says. "Sounds like you're pretty well traveled. Hope you're liking it down here." "Better than home." Alex says, quietly. He does not elaborate, quieting as he continues to draw, eyes occasionally flicking up towards the other teenager. There are still some edges that need work on the drawing - spots where shading hasn't been finished, or where some of the underlying sketch still peeks through - but Alex nevertheless flips the sketchbook closed and begins tucking his pencils back in the small case. "Good to hear it," Jack replies seriously. He knows how bad 'home' can be for people like them. He watches the drawing process for a few moments and when Alex starts to pack up, Jack stretches his neck. "Should probably get going," he remarks. "My name's Jack, by the way. Was nice meeting you." "Alex." This, at least, earns a small smile from the artist, eyes looking up in the direction of Jack's face. Ish. "I'll keep eyes out for you. Big city, but there aren't a whole lot of us to go around -- and there can't be too many empty sets of clothing walking around." Alex's chuckle has an odd tone to it, like a cheap whistle was stuck in the back of his throat. The teenager stuffs the sketchbook and pencils into a light bag and tugs the strings on it to seal it shut. Jack laughs a bit, nodding. "I'll keep my eyes peeled for you too. Hey, if you're ever on the Lower East Side, swing by a place called Evolve. Awesome cafe and plenty of people like us there," he suggests. "We're bound to run into eachother there at some point," he says, slipping his hands back into his pockets which ends up looking more like his pockets just opening themselves a bit. Alex looks surprised at this, but he nods once. "I will. Thanks." Alex hesitates for a moment before he turns and steps quickly away, tugging his hoodie back up further around his face as he goes. About thirty feet away from Jack, the teenager turns to glance back, giving Jack a curious look from under the hood before he turns back to the front and vanishes behind a building. |