ArchivedLogs:Mixed Bag

Mixed Bag
Dramatis Personae Fiona, Matt
In Absentia	2017-01-05 "Well, I kinda made it where I wanted to go, but the question is where to next, you know?"
Location <NYC> NY Public Library - Midtown East
Guarded by two lions nicknamed Patience and Fortitude, the main branch of New York's public library system provides a space for New York residents to do more than just check out books. The reference library holds thousands of works, and the reading room is a majestic work of architecture in its own right. The computer lab and free Internet access is available to all who need it. Fiona is about as inconspicuous as a red skinned, tailed, dragon-looking mutant can be... (Which is not very.) She has one end of a couch staked out while she reads a book; an external frame style backpack with a sleeping bag attached leans against the couch next to her. She's probably not the only homeless person to take some shelter in the library on a cold evening like this, but people are definitely giving her the widest berth possible. Matt is rather laden down with both books and previously shed outerwear when he wanders in. He's wearing a moss green t-shirt mostly taken up by a lighter green snake (the complex loops of its coils almost seem to spell something out) sneaking up on an unsuspecting songbird, and worn old blue jeans, their overlong cuffs frayed (and still a little damp) where they drag on the ground. He has an olive drab Blue Suns messenger bag over one shoulder, a blue-and-gray jacket over one arm, a navy blue tuque with a Captain America shield emblem on it and a hunter green scarf stuffed inside tucked under the other arm, and a tall stack of books balanced in his hands. This last looks in grave danger of toppling over as he walks. Seeing an unoccupied space, he hastens thither to set down his leaning tower of literature, half-spilling them onto the cushions. "Pardon me!" He flashes Fiona an apologetic smile. "I just need to get myself together." Fiona gives a bit of a start as the books land on the couch - it's the first time in a couple of hours that anybody has come near her. "Oh um, no worries," she smiles a bit nervously; she's a bit hyper-self-conscious right now after Paige texted her and told her about getting assaulted near Evolve... though most likely, nothing is going to happen INSIDE a public library. Giving him the once over, "D-d'ya need any help with all that?" she inquires - rather bored actually; as much as she likes books, she figures she could use a break from sitting and reading for hours. Matt lets his jacket and accessories drop down onto the couch as well before perching /himself/ on the edge of the cushion amidst the wreckage from his controlled crash. "Oh, I think I've got it...more or less under control." He ducks his head sheepishly as he roots through his messenger bag for a folded-up nylon tote covered with tessellated Tetris blocks in bright colors. He shakes the tote out (it's rather larger than it looks at first) and eyes the stack of books uncertainly. "Actually, would you mind holding this open?" Offering the tote. Fiona picks up the bag and holds it open, peering at the books, "Why so many?" she murmurs to herself out of curiosity; she then realizes she said that aloud and her cheeks darken a little. "Are you going on a trip?" she wonders more directly, eyes travelling over to her own pack for a moment. Giving Matt a once over, she concludes that he doesn't really LOOK like the typical New Yorker - for instance, he's not wearing black or skinny jeans. The books that go into the tote are mostly novels, an eclectic mix of of obvious sci-fi, fantasy, and less readily identifiable titles: /Falling Out of Cars/ by Jeff Noon, /The Bees/ by Laline Paull, /The Devourers/ by Indra Das, /The Fall of the House of Cabal/ by Jonathan Howard, and so on. Matt blinks at Fiona, green eyes blank, as if he doesn't quite understand. The second question seems to clear this up for him, though, and he chuckles, shaking his head. "Ah, but no, I am just a voracious reader from a family of voracious readers. If I don't pick up enough books, I'll be short of reading material when my siblings inevitably make off with mine." He doesn't sound overly bothered by this, though, and continues stacking his acquisitions. Once the books are secured, he takes the bag from Fiona with a bright smile. "{Thank you so much!}" this is in French, with a distinct Quebecois accent--though he speaks English like a New Yorker born and bred. "I should let you get back to your reading, no?" His eyes dart to the book that Fiona had set aside to help him with his. Fiona happens to be reading a dog-eared copy of 'The Crying of Lot 49' by Thomas Pynchon. It looks tattered and well travelled and... doesn't actually bear any markings from the New York Public Library on it. Did she bring it with her, and then just use the couch to sit down and read? That seems rather likely... "I mean, you don't have to, it's fine... Er," she smiles somewhat awkwardly. Something in Matt's smile softens when he sees the cover of Fiona's book. "Mine is /Neverwhere/, " he says softly. Then, eyes lifting back to Fiona's face, "Are /you/ going on a trip?" "Ah, k-kinda?" Fiona stammers, one hand reaching over to tug her backpack a little closer, as if she's used to making hasty exits. "I guess I'm already one on! A never-ending journey," she smiles a little. Though she'd rather like it to end, or at least, a warm bed to sleep in. That'd be cool. "Well, I kinda made it where I wanted to go, but the question is where to next, you know?" she gives a little shrug, tail tip wiggling. "Ah, who knows, right? I shouldn't bother regular people with that sorta thing..." she pushes her glasses up further on her nose, "You probably have better stuff to do." Matt's eyes track Fiona's hand when she reaches for her pack. His posture shifts subtly, settling back against the couch a little more. He rests one hand on the tote full of books, thumb playing idly over the band of a plain black ring. "That's always a tough question," he hedges, rubbing the knuckles of his right hand under his chin. Then, slowly smiling again, "Even for regular people. But try me, if you wouldn't mind." "Hmm? Oh... I suppose I sort've... had a place to stay for a few days and then they kind of asked me to leave," she frowns a little. It was a nice place to stay. "So the question is, you know, do I go home? I have a friend who goes to school up here somewhere... They want me to go there with them. But, I dunno about that. Or, you know... I heard some people live in more unorthodox places." She seems a bit rambly at this point - a 'regular person' probably wouldn't have much of a clue what she's talking about. "Those are the three choices, I suppose." "Well, I'm a total stranger you just met in the library, who may or may not be a 'regular person', but I do know going home can be a complicated proposition. Maybe outright dangerous." His other hand pulls his cap into his lap, fingers plucking at the fringes of the scarf stuffed into it. "I've stayed some /pretty/ unorthodox places for that reason, though I am completely sure I had more options than you, and less peril. School, now..." His lips press thinly together. "That's also a mixed bag. You've probably heard of Xavier's--I'd say there's a reasonably good chance that's the school you're talking about." He runs a hand through his short brown hair, gives an embarrassed chuckle. "I teach there. It...certain has its share of problems, but still probably safer than the street." "Really?" Fiona's voice brightens and that comes out maybe a bit louder than she really meant it to. "Oh man, um," she rubs the back of her neck, "My friend's name is Marinov. Aaand... a guy named Steve said I could just apply online but I wasn't sure, I don't really have any identification... on me... so..." she bites her lip, unsure of what to say exactly. "People keep saying it has problems though... I'm kinda tired of problems. But, I'm also kinda tired of violence. So there's that, at least?" she smiles faintly, trying to make a joke, but really she just looks rather tired suddenly. "Heh! Small Apple moment." Matt grins, relaxing back against the couch more fully. "I know Marinov! And several guys named Steve. Did he happen to have a shield like this?" He waggles his Cap cap. "Regardless, he's right about the application. You don't need an ID, just your social security number, if you have one. It can get a bit more complicated if you don't, but otherwise it's fairly straightforward." He sighs. "I'm not going to lie and say the school is some kind of progressive mutant utopia. Even I can see it, and I'm a human-passing /teacher/; Marinov can certainly tell you the right of it, in more than one way." He's quiet for a moment, fiddling with his ring. "You don't have to choose the safer path just because it's safer, but that is a legitimate choice, too." "Well, if I start going to school again, my parents will... probably, you know, support me, and then I won't have to live on the street or whatever. So that'd be /great./ They're kinda mad that I left and won't send me any money if it's not for going home, but I'm kinda mad that random jerks back home decided to cause all sorts of problems and the police don't wanna do anything about it - so that leaves us at an impasse, yeah?" Fiona shrugs, "Going to school up here would probably solve both of those problems. And yeah, he had a shield like that... he was nice, I guess," she frowns a little. Matt's eyes widen ever so slightly, his hand rising to cover his mouth. "Oh--oh, that is...one way to express their displeasure, I suppose. {I am sorry,} that sounds quite awful." He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. "It's not ideal, but for all its flaws, Xavier's has pretty good food!" A shadow passes over his smile, there and gone. His head tilts. "Have you eaten?" "I mean, it's cool," Fiona shrugs, "Today?" she questions, "Ah, I could eat!" she nods, standing up and hefting her backpack onto her shoulder easily, "You know a good place?"