Logs:Cat About Town

Cat About Town
Dramatis Personae Clint, DJ, Kitty, Lucien
In Absentia	2020-12-08 "-- Where's the obelisk?"
Location <NYC> Washington Square Park - Greenwich Village
Behind a majestic white marble arch, a smaller cousin of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, this beautiful green space is a popular destination for the young, the hip, and the artistic. A huge circular wading fountain is the centerpiece, ringed by benches, playgrounds, dog runs, gaming tables, and lush green lawns. In fair weather, the park is almost always crowded with tourists, students, chess enthusiasts, and local families come to tire out their children and dogs. The December sun shines brittle and watery this afternoon, and though the chill in the air is solidly wintry it is not cold enough to dissuade the buskers, people watchers, dog walkers, and even the occasional tourist from lingering in this iconic park. Clint is crossing against the signal, though not before looking both ways, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his black peacoat. He's also wearing black jeans and back boots, the only splash of color on him the vivid purple knit scarf tucked around his neck. He half-turns to address their guest of honor even as he steps onto the curb on the other side. "And here is Washington Square Park. Great places to eat around here if you're into hipsterized street food." DJ was behind Clint but has arrived at the curb ahead of him, blinking across the street in a flutter-blur that puts him -- not quite where he might be expected to be at their previous walking pace. He's in jeans, too, sturdy suede boots, a heavy fleece-lined blue-green flannel with its left sleeve conspicuously hanging empty at his side, a warm grey scarf. His beard has been carefully trimmed once more, dark hair combed neat. "I know what Washington Square Park is, we have --" He's freezing on the spot, though, head tilting and his eyes suddenly wider as he turns more squarely to Clint again. "-- Where's the obelisk?" Trailing not far behind the others, Lucien ducks just past an oncoming taxi, stepping up onto the curb shortly after DJ. Against the cold today he is in a gray double-breasted coat slim enough to look stylish but generous enough to fit well over the impeccably tailored black pinstripe suit, just a glimpse of a silver chevron tie visible above the loose drape of a buttery soft green scarf, his black monk shoes polished to a shine. "There were," this musing is a little absent, tacked on like only the latest in a series of many in kind, "-- many arrests in this park as well -- it does look nicer without the cloud of tear gas. Obelisk?" His brows are hiking up. He looks from DJ to Clint with a faint and curious tilt of his head. "We neglected to install that." Just ahead of the group on the sidewalk, Kitty is walking in their direction in no particular hurry. Her baby blue book bag is slung over one shoulder on top of her black knee-length down coat, grey wide legged jeans poking out on top of her brown Chelsea boots. Her scarf is a little more colorful- blue with dreidels and candles weaved into the pattern. She stops walking just for a moment when she spots DJ and his entourage, eyes momentarily going wide. She shakes her head once, vigorously, before giving a small wave. Her pace brings her up to the group quick enough. “Daws- DJ! I didn’t realize you were sticking around.” Luci and Clint both get a quick nod, though Kitty’s expression is - bemused, to say the least. Clint stares blankly at DJ's question, no light of comprehension in his eyes. It's only when Lucien echoes the word "obelisk" that he looks--sort of? maybe?--demystified. "I think this is another one of those things," he allows finally. "We have an arch instead." He points at the monument in question, visible even from this angle where it towers above the trees. "Commanding view of the park. If you ever have need of that." He only dips his head in response to Kitty's greeting, mumbling a quiet "Miss" even as he glances at DJ. "Oddly enough, I've seen a lot of mine through tear gas, too. I do like this better." That DJ blinks away as Kitty approaches may at first blush be Not An Encouraging Sign, given his habit of rabbiting off at the slightest trace of startlement of late -- there's a faint blur that comes just about in time with the sound of his almost-name. But he's reappeared several seconds later, a few inches away from where he started, lifting one hand to smooth his hair back down into place. "That is useful. And much more comfortable. Ka... Kitty." His head dips as he catches himself. His eyes linger a moment on his scarf, his expression falling just slightly. "I -- wasn't planning on it, but things have been --" He hesitates what is for him a considerable time before finishing, clumsily, "-- Weird." "Do you know, all this time I've lived down the street and never once considered that view. How you stay friends with me I've no idea." Lucien presses the tips of his fingers very lightly to the end of his scarf as DJ takes off. Keeps them there, delicate, until he's reappeared; only the fringes of the lightweight scarf flutter with the abrupt disappearance-reappearance of the teleporter. Even with this very minor disturbance he pats at it primly, inclines his head politely to Kitty as he subtly adjusts his own stance to keep all the various parts of this expanding conversational circle more or less clearly visible to Clint. "You two have already met?" This does throw a noticeable surprise into his usual unruffled calm, eyes widening, brows lifting in time with the distinct uptick of his tone. Kitty has no such warning- her scarf billows in the wake of DJ’s little trip, the flames of the fabric candles seeming to momentarily extinguish as it folds. She seems to not take offense, just gives DJ a bright smile. “Weird seems to be underselling it, a little bit.” She shifts slightly to look at Lucien, mild amusement creeping into her tone. “Oh, yeah. On his first day in town, I think.” Her smile is just a touch smug, there. Looks at Clint. Back to DJ. Frowns. Back to Clint. “Are you also from the upside down dimension? Are we doing an exchange program?” Clint also does not seem bothered by DJ's detour; the tails of his scarf are already tucked neatly in the collar of his coat, if it has tails at all. "I'm fond. The dogs even more so. Obelisks really are the worst." His smile is a crooked, subtle thing as his glance cuts aside to Lucien. "You know my friendship isn't contingent on your three-dimensional thinking, but honestly, what do you think the grappling arrows are for?" His eyes focus in on Kitty as she asks her questions. There's a slight delay before he answers, carefully, "I'm local." He removes one heavily calloused hand from his pocket and offers it for a shake. "Name's Clint." "Oh, yeah, we go way back," DJ tells Lucien, deadpan. There's an uncomfortable twitch that passes across his face; his eyes flick to Clint and then away to the arch. His tone is easy enough, despite this. "Not mine. I think that's a little bit of a negaverse-centric viewpoint, anyway. Maybe your dimension's the upside down one. How do we calculate that kind of thing?" "Huh." It's quiet, thoughtful; Lucien lifts one hand, fingers rubbing slowly against the line of his jaw. His glance skips aside to -- DJ's empty-swinging sleeve, then back to Kitty. "You have had a rather full week." He curls his arms loose over his chest, tipping his head back to eye the arch. Quite seriously: "For my Green Arrow cosplay." His fingers tighten slightly against the crook of his arm. "If we were doing an exchange program," his soft voice is aggressively mild, "I should hope we'd be a bit more circumspect about who we sign up for the experience." “Kitty. Nice to meet you. ” Kitty takes the outstretched hand, gives it an easy shake. The timing of the flush that comes over her cheeks could be explained by the shake, perhaps, but when she addresses Lucien again her voice is apologetic, almost shameful. “I - I heard they were being extracted on that side. I’m sure they’ll be returned to us soon.” Her optimism is not entirely convincing. “I’m sure someone in the physics department could calculate it- wait, week?” Kitty’s brows furrow, looking first at Lucien, then at DJ. "Pleasure. I think we're just going to have to agree it's relative," Clint suggests equably. "That, or start numbering realities. You know what would help your Green Arrow cosplay?" His eyebrows tick up minutely. "Brooding in high places more." His lips compress at Kitty's question, but his tone does not change, casual-friendly with perhaps just a touch of benign boredom. "A lot can happen in two weeks across two worlds. As you seem to be aware." "More? How much brooding in high places do you do as is? My Luci --" DJ cuts himself off here with a very faint tinge of pink creeping into his ears. A small duck of his head. "-- Sorry. Hard to shake that. Line of thought. I think it's been almost two now but I can't blame you for losing track. It's been --" His brow knits. "More than my usual amount of --" The small tension at his side is more noticeable for the swaying of his empty sleeve. "-- world-jumping," is what he finishes, though, glancing sidelong to Lucien. "Yours, too, I'm guessing. I'm not sure I like the idea of relative." He decides this at last decisively. "I feel like anything we end up scoring on is just going to be." His jaw tightens, then relaxes. "Awkward, at best." "I do a fair amount of brooding," Lucien allows, "but mostly at ground level." He's looking away from DJ, now. Up to the high point of the arch and then beyond, head tipping back to the sky. His fingers have pressed tighter still, hard clenched against the sleeve of his jacket. His grip only eases as he lets out a breath, slow and frosting in the crisp air. "Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals that have been turned into movies," he decides. "Which of us is winning on that count? Or -- discovered species of nudibranchs, perhaps. Number of bodega cats with their own instagram accounts. Surely there are some intradimensional competitions worth having, here." Kitty’s gaze drifts over the three men, biting on her bottom lip. “Discovered exoplanets in the habitable zone,” she offers. “If you all have ones we haven’t found yet. Would save me some time on my dissertation if you shared.” Her smile is small and fades quickly. “I wouldn’t say I’m - aware? Just,” she gestures vaguely at the trio, then the world in general with a small sweeping motion- “On the periphery of whatever plot point of 2020 this is.” She hitches her book bag higher over her shoulders with a small shrug. "Not sure we can just define our way out of that line of thought." Clint frowns thoughtfully, then amends, "Maybe some of us can, but not me." His shrug is small, fatalistic, the flat-lipped expression on his face dismayed but not unkind. "You just need to elevate your brooding game," he encourages gently even as he counts on his fingers. "Eight? Or seven, depending whether you count Cats twice. Not sure about all the rest, but I don't know if I'd like to win darkest timeline by dint of ALW. It might be a bit generous," he adds to Kitty, almost apologetically, "to call this a plot. It's really all over the place." "I can't say I know -- any of those off the top of my head," DJ admits wholly unapologetically, "but I'm sure I could do some research and..." He trails off, slowly looking to Clint with a blink. A hike of brows. "Wait. You all made Cats into a movie? It has less plot than --" His arm lifts. He gestures widely in kind of a flail at the park around them. "Twice." Lucien is wide-eyed. Very sincere. His knuckles rub against his cheek again, green eyes studying the incredulity in DJ's face with a deep solemnity that he turns, after, to Clint and Kitty in turn. "-- Have you all got any plans for the rest of the afternoon? I think I just discovered mine."