ArchivedLogs:Edgy

Edgy
Dramatis Personae Josiah, Shane	2014-02-24 '
Location <NYC> Central Park North
Central Park North is slightly quieter than its southern counterpart, being further uptown and slightly out of the bustle of the City - insofar as one can escape the bustle of the City even here, in the acres of green and blue that make up Central Park. The reservoir is in the northern half, providing miles of jogging and biking trails along the clear water, as well as benches for people to sit and rest. The weekend's exceedingly mild weather has dropped back down to sub-freezing temperatures, and between that and the end of the strange futuristic buildings and scattered scavenger-hunt star-quest citywide the park is a good deal quieter -- especially this late at night -- than it has been in previous days. A man hurries quickly along the jogging path by the reservoir, talking urgently into his cellphone; another impatiently hurries his dog along on a walk. /Swimming/ isn't allowed in the reservoir in /any/ weather, of course, and so even if it were a glorious summer afternoon it might be unusual to hear a splash coming from down by the water -- here in the frigid winter night, probably moreso. And yet. There /is/ a splashing, then a rustling of a stand of bushes down by the water's edge. More rustling. And more. And eventually a very /small/ figure emerges to toss a duffel bag over the fence surrounding the water and then scramble back over the fence himself, dropping back down to the ground on the other side with a quiet rattle of the metal links. Shane has only half-finished dressing, long-sleeved button-down shirt and pinstriped slacks but no shoes yet on his webbed feet, and he is muttering quietly to himself as he digs more layers out of his duffel bag -- muttering in Vietnamese, not in English, but it's easy enough to discern /cursing/ in most languages from tone alone. Along the sides of his neck his slitted gills are still rippling, and as he moves into the pool of light from a nearby lamppost it's more than easy to see the rest of his features -- /enormous/ pupilless black eyes, huge mouthful of shark-sharp teeth, oddly uncanny-valley inhuman features like perhaps some sort of water demon has just slodged out of the reservoir. And then decided to put on a neatly tailored /vest/ and polished Oxfords, because that is what the diminutive teenager is currently completing his outfit with. Whatever Josiah is doing in the park at this hour, it's clear in his hunched gait and quickened pace that he doesn't want to be here longer than he needs to. He's alone, hands stuffed into the pockets of a light, tailored jacket. As he rounds the path near the reservoir his pace slows upon hearing some very foreign mumbling. He pauses, gripped by curiosity, and looks in the direction of the voice, though not seeing who it belongs to. He teeters momentarily, mutters a curse of his own, and takes a few tentative steps away from the path in further into the darkness. Sometimes curiosity gets the better of Josiah. This is one of those times. Shane's muttering cuts off into a low rumble of growl at Josiah's curse. The boy doesn't /look/ in Josiah's direction, exactly; for a moment his head tips, listening to the darkness, and then his nostrils flare, sniffing at the faint breeze. He buttons up his vest quickly, extracting a bow tie from his duffel bag next to run it through his collar, starting to tie it with quick practiced motions. "Who the fuck are you," is in English this time. "You know it's not polite to skulk around in the shadows ogling." Josiah halts his advance at the sound of Shane's voice, not getting the best look at the teen, but enough of one to gather that it's a clear and obvious mutant in the dark. "Oh!" Josiah says, a little at the accusation and a little the young man's startling appearance. "Shit, yeah, of course it is." He takes a couple of steps back in the direction of the path, but that's the extent of his retreat. "Sorry about that, buddy. Curiosity got the best of me, I guess." "Yeah, I get that a lot." There's a harsh edge of a growl in Shane's voice with these words, too. He tugs a coat on after he's finished tying his tie and adjusting it neatly into place, a dark wool peacoat that he buttons up over his clothing with a small shiver. He slings his duffel bag over his shoulder afterwards, zipping it back up. When Josiah taks a couple steps back, he takes a couple steps forward, teeth bared. "Pretty sure there's a saying for that. Curiosity, cats." Josiah can't help but stare at the barred teeth, those sharp little things. "Woah, seriously? I didn't realize we had that big of a problem on our hands." He takes another step away from Shane, but again, doesn't run. He doesn't even seem particularly scared, more confused at this point than anything. And getting pissed, from the sounds of his voice when he says, "If you want to me to walk, I'll walk. Don't be a dick about it." "Dick about it. Right." Shane drops his hand to his side, tugging a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. "Right, asshole, because some creepy-ass motherfucker stands around /staring/ at the freak from the darkness and I should just take in it stride, yeah? I mean, god, the fuck do I expect walking around in public looking like this /obviously/ people are going to stare I should just smile and be polite about it. Hey you want to take a picture?" The sharp baring of his teeth this time might be a smile, but his tense posture and annoyed tone doesn't make it look overly friendly. "Maybe I should do a goddamn dance for you?" Josiah let's out a deep and extended sigh upon realizing what this situation has devolved into. "Look, I'm sorry I called you a dick. I'm a little edgy tonight. It wasn't very eloquent of me." He lifts his hands, open-palmed, in a sign of pacifism. "That being said, I really don't feel like entertaining this aggressive display of insecurity, so I'm gonna move on." He drops his hands and begins to make his way back to the path, muttering something about how he should have kept walking. "Yeah. Try walking around looking like this for long, you'll be goddamn edgy every fucking day of your life." Shane slips his cigarette between his lips, eyes narrowing as he lights it. Josiah's words earn another growl, gills rippling with a quiet whisper of motion as they move against the starched fabric of his shirt collar. He turns aside from the path, heading back towards the fence that rings the reservoir to slump back up against it.