Logs:Bad Vibes

Bad Vibes
Dramatis Personae Blake, Dawson, Polaris	2020-09-23 "That's spooky cop-bots, isn't it? Stark trademarked 'Creepy Cop-Bots'."
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 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. In the afternoon it was milder but now that the sun has set it's chill outside, driving a bustling crowd into the comfort and warmth of Evolve. Though the overwhelming majority of the clientele looks human at a first glance, at a second it's readily apparent the nature of this establishment -- a young woman at a corner table whose coffee is stirring itself while she reads, an accidentally-dropped plate reconstructing itself right after it shatters on the ground, a man reheating his own coffee with a quick breath. Off in the back, Dawson is just making himself comfortable on one of the plush couches. He's getting into the spirit of the new fall menu -- hot apple cider and butternut squash soup -- and among this crowd he looks almost aggressively Normal. Neatly combed hair, neatly pressed khakis, a plain button-down with a green-trimmed grey sweater vest over top; with long sleeves on the mechanical arm at his right side is almost unobtrusive (though it's still intricately colored in the beige and black-speckled yellow-patched patterning of a northern flicker's feathers.) He isn't much looking at his food, cheeks sucked in between his teeth and a slightly apprehensive look on his face. "You haven't," he finally remarks, "run away screaming, yet." Settling beside Dawson, Polaris looks almost like a different person today with natural makeup--only a hint of lilac lipstick and (un-winged!) black eyeliner, to those who don't know how to look for the rest--and her green hair neatly french braided, dressed respectably in a pale lilac blouse, wide-leg black slacks, and chunky black loafer heels with a matching purse. She also has an apple cider which she's cupping in her hands, her tempeh reuben sandwich neglected for now. "I'm not screaming inside, either," she replies, "promise. People seemed...just, really nice." Her lips compress. "But you know them better--do you think they were put off?" Blake entered Evolve with a slight face of confusion. The atmosphere putting him to ease almost instantly as he turned his head slightly to the left and right observing the mutants in their natural states. Blake wore a simple button up in the color fuchsia that paired well with the gray beanie lazily draping from the back of his head that revealed a few of his loose dreads , the shirt was meant to be buttoned but it remained open as it revealed a black undershirt with the logo of the band AJR plastered on the front, his lower half consisted of a pair of brown joggers tightly cuffed slightly above his ankles, and to complete the outfit he paired the band shirt with a pair of black ankle length combat boots. Blake only took a few steps before he would notice how popular the area was. he scouted for an open seat before making his way over to an empty chair. His eyes would scan over the Cafe once more as they spotted a very peculiar green haired woman. without intending to his eyes would glance a little to long as it quickly became obvious he was staring at her. Dawson's brows pull together, his eyes lowering to search his hands. "They are nice," he answers slowly -- though his hesitant tone doesn't make this sound exactly like a compliment. "They're not just nice. But they're nice first." The thickly scarred side of his face pulls up in a smile when he looks back up. "I brought Jax to church with me once. That put them off. I think you're -- different than they maybe expected, but they were glad you were there." His eyes lift to Blake, darting quickly between him and Polaris. Back to Blake. Some of the warmth in his smile shifts to a careful politeness, his head tilting slightly. "I'm sorry," he says mildly, "but she's not on shift right now, you'll have to order at the counter." "I didn't mean--there's nothing more to them than nice," Polaris demurs, blushing. "But I have to admit it was like. An aggressive amount of it. I felt kind of like a crude asshole, by comparison." But she nods slowly, evidently relieved. She notices Blake's stare just about when Dawson speaks up, and the fury that passes over her face--her entire body tensed and ready to fight for just a moment--eases into embarrassment that turns her cheeks even pinker. "I'm afraid I can't give you my brand, but I know a great colorist if you're thinking about going green." He noticed how quickly they reacted to him as he would quickly place his hands outwards shaking his open palms dismissing the male with a embarrassed look on his face. "Eh, no! There's no way i could afford anything here on my pay." he said blushing a bit as his cheeks weren't noticeably pink but his demeanor told it all. "I was actually admiring. I still find it kinda memorizing that people can rock such bold colors. where i come from you'd be a instant bad ass." his right hand reached back rubbing the back of his head gently. "Eh, not saying you arent already a total bad ass" he felt even more nervous as he spoke "Im Blake" he said sliding his hands into his pockets. "Im new to the city and well, i was told this was kinda like an oasis for mutants. Kitty Pryde said that i should stop by. i was hoping to atleast be around some people who might understand what im going through." he admitted as he sighed "Ive only been a mutant myself for about a year now so-" he paused "i digress, didnt mean to stare, i-its just nice to know people can express themselves in so many different ways." "You are not --" Dawson's lips press thinner, briefly, and he hesitates, glancing to Polaris and finishing carefully: "Everyone feels short or sharp or rude, sometimes." His brows lift, posture straightening when Blake speaks again. "You can definitely afford it, it's free." His smile warms here, again. "Not exactly free, really. But there's a couple menu items every day that are pay-what-you-want, even if that's nothing; and there's this, pay it forward program? Where people can pitch in extra money, in a sort of cache. Banked in case anyone comes in who wants something but can't afford it. If you order a suspended item they'll ring it up for you from the bank." He picks up his cider, now, mechanical fingers clicking quietly against the mug as he settles back on the couch. "You know Kitty? She's great." Polaris arches a dark green eyebrow at Dawson, but a slow smile blossoms as he explains Evolve's menu policies. For a moment she just sips at her cider, looking unaccountably pleased. "Yeah, don't worry, the staff won't think anything of it," she adds cheerfully. "I am kind of a badass, but the hair isn't self expression, it's gene expression. Part of my mutation, you know?" She shrugs blithely. "Kitty's awesome, and she's right. Good place to meet other folks, especially if you're new in town and new to the community. I'm Polaris--I actually work here, just not on duty right now. Where you from?" Blake would smile a bit hearing their policy as he looked back to the counter, this would have been a great chance to try something from the menu if he hadnt already eaten before coming, he had assumed he woudnt be able to afford the food and decided to eat while he could. He returning his gaze to the two listening more. He then gave a small smile in the corner of his mouth hearing her comment about the Gene expression, he found it pretty cool that mutations could take such unique forms. He stood from his chair and made his way over to the two finding a closer seat next to the couch to make discussion easier. "Im actually from Tennessee. Country boy making his first steps in Newyork City. Not much to say outside of that" he admitted again with a bit of a shrug before smiling towards them both with a warm and charming feel. "And as cool as it would be, I dont really Know Kitty as well as it may seem. My abilities went haywire a few days ago, and some nice people got me in contact with her. She thought this place would be cool, so she suggested it through email, and here i am." "Tough when that happens," Dawson says with a sympathetic wince. "Especially these days. I don't know if Tennessee is any better, but between the cops and the creepy cop-bots?" His shudder is just a little exaggerated. "A brief slip-up should not be a ticket to jail, but sometimes that's how New York rolls." He gestures around the cafe with his mug. "Thank goodness for being able to breathe a little easier, huh?" "Well, welcome to New York, Country Boy." Polaris has lapsed into something like her customer service smile and voice, here. "I'm hope you came out of haywire alright, but--well, you're still here." To Dawson, she adds, smile skewing crooked, "That's spooky cop-bots, isn't it? Stark trademarked 'Creepy Cop-Bots'. Wanna bet the knock-off Sentinels are gonna be just as shitty for us, though?" Blake was rather confused as he looked to them scratching his head. he wasn't aware of the robo cops they mentioned but he did realize he was lucky to be in a city more accepting of mutants. there wasn't much outside of violence for those who were out of control down in the south. "Im guessing theres a inside joke here but, yeah the souths not that accepting of Mutants" "I wish there was a joke." Dawson shakes his head, his shoulder lifting in a small shrug. "But there's not. Using your powers in public is illegal in New York City. You can get fined or arrested." The frown that crosses his face is very fleeting. "Or worse. You all didn't have the Sentinels in Tennessee? Thought they unleashed those bots nationwide." It's kind of an offhand comment as he takes another sip of cider. "Though these days ordinary people are just as bad as the cops, too. Barely a week goes by without some new round of violence in the news. People like to pretend the South has a monopoly on bigotry but I'm sorry to tell you that's just -- not the case. Just as many bigots here as anywhere. One blessing is there's enough of us, too, to build some kind of community." "Yeeeah," Polaris says, "I dunno what it was like where you were, but people sure hate us here." She pauses, shakes her head. "I don't mean here in Evolve, just--in New York. Don't let anyone tell you things are 'more progressive' here. It's like he says," she nods at Dawson, "there's a lot more of us here than most places, so we have an easier time supporting one another. Guessing it'd be a lot harder to have a cafe like this one out in the--rural Tennessee." He wasnt sure of exactly what Sentinels were but from what they had informed him, he was sure he didnt want to find out either. Blake would look to Polaris and Dawson as he would seem a little less happy. "So im in a city where using your mutant abilities is not only frowned upon but illegal? I thought moving to Newyork was gonna help me embarrass myself. Some where i could finally be me" he said a his grip on his chair began to tighten "....i thought i was running towards something great" he said as his chair would begin to vibrate aggressively" "They're illegal a lot of places, unfortunately." Dawson sounds just a little bit apologetic here. "And you're -- still living in a fascist country, friend, if you want something great I think -- you need to run a little farther?" He starts to set his cup down but thinks better of it at the vibration, pulling it back up and close to his chest. His brows dip slightly. "You okay, there, man?" Polaris is quiet for a moment, here, her shoulders pulling inward. "Yeah, getting picked up as a known mutant, whether you were arrested for power use or not, can be pretty dangerous," she says softly, her voice calm though her knuckles are white where her hands grip the mug of cider. "That's why this registration thing..." She trails off, eyes widening slightly as the chair starts to vibrate. "Hey, take it easy, friend. Shi--things are a mess, but you're safe here, at least." He would look to them both as he noticed the chair was vibrating aggressively. He would look to them as he would start to panic a bit “I-it’s ok I can turn it off” he said as he closed his eyes and started to breath out slowly. Although he was trying to subside them the vibrations weren’t slowing. He opened his eyes and looked to the chair worriedly as the vibrations increased. “I’m sorry, I’m trying!” He said frightened a bit. "Are you sure? Because --" Dawson doesn't finish the sentence. His exhale is quick -- a little sharp, a little abrupt, his jaw tensing and teeth grinding slightly. He gets up, mechanical hand clamping down on Blake's shoulder and his other touching to Polaris's arm. The room blurs around them, lurching nauseatingly. There's a disorienting whirl, a rapid stomach-churning shift of motion, and when it settles again they are out in the cool night air, an empty trash-strewn lot of weeds and broken pavement surrounded by ramshackle fencing beside the river. Dawson and Polaris are a couple feet from Blake; the expression on Dawson's face is just mild concern. "You okay?" As the vibrations grow more severe Polaris sets down her mug and is just starting to rise when Dawson removes them all. She emits a yelp of surprise in staccato motion with the rapid-fire teleporting, and when they arrive she clings to Dawson for balance, swaying slightly, her breathing fast. A wave of ominous rattling travels through the fencing nearby, but then passes. "Thanks," she manages. Then, in something approaching her normal tone of voice "That--wasn't facetious." He would be trying to calm himself but as it occurred it only grew more as the ground itself began to vibrate even more aggressively as he looked to them both before shouting out “How do I turn it off!?” This wasn’t out of anger but fear, it’s as if he had realized at the moment just how much danger he was in. Dawson curls his arm around Polaris's waist. At the further rumbling he blips them another several feet away, his grip tightening -- just slightly -- against her. "I don't even know what you're doing," he answers Blake through gritted teeth, "how on earth should I --" His teeth grind again, and he takes a deep breath, pushes it back out slowly, before continuing, more gently, "Hey. Breathe with me, okay? Deeper, like this." His own breathing slower, now, deliberate. Polaris leans gratefully against Dawson, though her teeth are gritted, too, her already wide eyes round with worry. "It's different for everyone! Can you--think calm thoughts?" She quiets when Dawson tries helping the younger man ground, though her shoulders are still tight under his arm--tensed in readiness for what, it's hard to say. He would start to look to them as he would clench his hands before he starts to breath as Dawson instructed. His chest would slowly rise and fall as the vibration did soon start to slow. As they do he looks around noticing the fence as it stops rattling. He would have a look of relief yet disappointment plastered as his face as he looked to them both once the vibrations stopped “........I-“ he paused before he would look away “I’m sorry...I didn’t meant to” "Alright." That's all Dawson says first, his hold starting to ease as the vibrations taper off. His cheek presses to Polaris's forehead, but then he straightens, nodding, once. "Okay. Subway is just a few blocks that way." He lifts one arm, pointing. "You should probably stop by the Mendel Clinic and talk to someone there if you're having difficulty controlling that. It's dangerous for you and everyone around you if you don't know how to keep it in check." His smile is very small. "Night, man. Stay safe." And with that -- and another rapid blur, far to fast to track in the darkness, he and Polaris are both gone.