Logs:(Be)Coming Home

(Be)Coming Home
Dramatis Personae Anahita, Toni
In Absentia	2024-06-24 "Maybe next time."
Location <NYC> Riverdale
Even with the sun setting, it's hot as hell out today -- but the sun is setting, and it's not quite as hot as it was at high noon, and two small children and one large dog do not take well to being cooped up inside for Literally Ever, so. They've all only been down a short while at this playground -- the kids are very happily splashing in the arcs of water from a small in-ground sprinkler in the center. Clearly PointyBoy has been splashing at some point, too; the borzoi's fur is a drowned-rat kind of sopping -- but with the arrival of More Small Children Toni has taken the dog back in leash. The pup is now splatted on the ground in front of a park bench, long nose resting just on the edge of a collapsed silicone water bowl. Toni is sitting on the bench, in a two-piece skirt and halter top set, white with bold hibiscus flower design that matches the shades of her French manicure, and white sandals. Her hair is in many braids, clipped up away from her neck, and she's just spritzing a small mist from a plant mister filled with ice water onto the back of her neck. After this she offers it to her companion, brows hiking in warm offer. "We got popsicles at home," she promises, solemn. Perched beside Toni, Anahita is wearing a cropped blue tank top and black circle skirt in the same lightweight cotton gauze, her long hair in one single braid coiled in on itself at the back of her head. She accepts the bottle and mists herself, too. Despite the humidity, the water evaporates quickly from their skin, but the little extra boost of cooling only goes so far. "A popsicle would be lovely," she replies, also solemnly. "And perhaps sitting a spell in the freezer right along with them." She glances surreptitiously, but not for the first time, toward what used to be Freaktown, harder to pick out now with the colorful banners and string lights torn down. "I don't imagine you'll have any trouble getting them into bed tonight. We might have to carry them back." "Normally I'd say Amara could ride this big ponydog but," Toni is nudging the droopy pup with one painted toe, "we gon hafta carry her back, too." She leans down to give one tiny spritz to the end of the dog's nose. PointyBoy's long tongue slips out, slow and glum, to lick the cool water off her nose. "And gonna hafta get a bigger freezer because I'm gonna climb right in there with you if they wanna stay out here much longer." She's looking towards the children and not in the path of Anahita's gaze as she bumps the other woman's shoulder lightly with hers. "We could go to a different park next time. Got one not too much farther away if we go south instead." "We should have brought a wagon. Or a very large wheeled cooler." At that bump Anahita smiles, though more at the puddle of borzoi at their feet than at Toni. "This one has better slides. And it is closer." She glances toward Freaktown again, not trying to look so casual this time. "This is still your neighborhood. They have taken enough. They should not get the playground with the good slides, too." "Lessons for next time. Heat's settling in all week, too -- Amara," she's leaning forward, her voice has pitching louder on this, "do that belong put all up in your shoes, sugar, you gonna regret it." At the edge of the spray park the little girl is very seriously considering the handful of pebbles she's still holding, and then cramming them down her shoes anyway. Toni is shaking her head, fingertips pressing in an exaggerated dismay to her forehead. "Thirty seconds from now when she stand up it'll be the whole world's fault her feet hurt." As she settles back, she's studying Anahita with a muted kind of surprise. "Huh. It is, isn't it?" Anahita nods sagely. "I see she is proactively angling for a ride home." She turns, though not fully, canting her head down aside. "It is. And was ours. And was never theirs. They think they can own a place without also belonging to it. Half of them are away on cruises or at their summer houses now, if they ever bothered coming back at all. This is not their home." She does finally turn to face Toni. "But it is yours." "Don't think I'd've got to feeling this way if someone hadn't helped me figure out where I fit in community 'round here. Feel like if you ain't putting something into a place it can't be home. Just kinda a place where you are right now." Toni's voice is warm, and she leans in to give Anahita a small kiss. "Just real sorry it's took your home getting stolen to help me see it." "That someone was you." Anahita sounds very firm on this count, yet not at all like she's contradicting Toni. "You just did not recognize you were belonging at the time because you were too busy helping." Her eyes flick aside, but to the children this time and not the Freaktown that was. "It would have been far worse without you." She does smile, at the kiss. "I was always ready for it to be taken from us. But that is a bad habit, too." She doesn't actually shrug, but there's something of it in the set of her shoulders and the heavy lightness of her words. "Maybe next time." "Think it might be harder to make a home a home if your soul got its bags packed already." Toni says this more with a soft sympathy than with any kind of judgment. "Maybe next time. We -- oh lawd," is an abrupt amused digression, "-- Amara if something's hurting I think you should check in your shoes and -- no your shoes --" She flashes a crooked smile at Anahita as she rises from the bench, and her tone's shifted entirely: "... maybe next time we do bring a wagon."