ArchivedLogs:Helpless

Helpless
Dramatis Personae Billy, Shane
In Absentia	2014-07-03 '
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 plentiful 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. Despite being well past noon, it's still a broiling 90 degrees outside in the city. It's a wonder that the streets are still just as bustling as ever, even with a big chunk of the population already escaping to the beach for the holiday weekend. Billy isn't one of those people, with his powdery-white skin and his bleach-blonde hair. Seeking refuge from the sun, the young man struggles with the door of the cafe and the white umbrella he'd been using in place of a parasol. It's not an easy thing to do with his dominant arm in a sling -and it's made just a little more complicated by his heavy glasses, which being to slide down from his face. He wrinkles up his nose to try and keep them up. Evolve is a pleasant refuge from the weather, crowded around lunchtime but with the crowd thinning out now that lunch hours have trickled off into just a mid-afternoon lull. The barista behind the counter looks slightly sleepy-eyed, though out on the floor Shane is brightly more alert as he cleans used dishes off a table and spritzes it down to wipe it clean. The tiny sharkboy is dressed much as he ever is. Pale linen pants, a crisp neat green button down with mandarin collar. He glances up at the struggle at the door, holding spray bottle in one hand and juggling dishes in the other -- none of which stops him from heading over to /help/, tucking a foot in the doorway to drag it open further and hold it open with a heel for Billy. "Heyyy --" His /wide/ toothy smile fades into a frown at the sight of the sling. "Yeouch. Don't tell me /more/ zombies got you." Billy hesitates, not really because of how rude Shane was at their last meeting, but because they are wearing almost the exact same thing - but where sharkboi wears green, he wears only white. "Nooo," he says in a tired, apathetic tone brought on by trekking around in the summer heat, "Just some norm ...ies." He manages to slide in through the space made in the door, letting out a bestial groan of relief at being inside. "Thank you." "That sucks. Flatscans have beef with /everyone/ these days I think. -- You look like you could /do/ with the AC, man. Maybe you should sit. I can get some cold water into you before --" Shane waves a hand over towards the counter. "Mmm -- large? Black? Extra espresso shot?" He says this like he's trying to remember a past order. "Though last time you got it hot and I don't know, is it hot coffee weather today?" "Oh my God, how did you remember that?" Billy smiles softly, twitching up his eyebrows and adjusting his glasses by their hinge, "Actually, uhm, drinking hot beverages on a hot day helps to cool you off. It like, turns up your body's cooling mechanisms." He blinks, coming out of his tangent, "Sorry. Uh, that would be great. But, I mean I can get in line ...if you're super busy." "Huh. That's good to know. Well maybe good to -- my cooling mechanisms are --" Shane cuts himself off with a small flutter of gills, shaking his head quickly as his bright smile returns. "Uh, I worked in a coffeeshop for a while before reopening this place. You kinda get to -- I swear I knew most of our regulars by their /order/ and not by their name. Anyway right, no, sit, I'll grab. Your coffee." At the very least, Billy Sharpe, who is remembered by few and certainly has never had to hold a real job in his entire life, is impressed. "I would just -live underwater and say screw all of this," he smiles, "Okay, I-I will." He glances around for an open table, "Thanks." The blonde wanders over to a small two-top, bussing it himself and slowly going through the one-handed process of setting out his school books and laptop. Someone bumps into him and he apologizes to them. This comment puts a small curl of smile on Shane's lips, a silent flutter of gills before he just trots away. To go dispense of his dishes, of his cleaning products, scrub his hands clean before he goes to make Billy's coffee. He returns with the mug -- steaming hot! -- and a few napkins together with a tiny slip of receipt denoting the small charge for one single black coffee. "Have done it before," he finally acknowledges, "-- just said fuck it and ran off to the ocean. The thing is that there's still some /pretty/ rad people who can only breathe with lungs." "Oh, thank you so much. It isn't scary down there?" Billy doesn't think of who he's talking to before he asks. He doesn't know Shane, but he does already *think* he knows that the kid isn't scared of much. Jaws wasn't scared of much. "-What am I saying. You're probably at the top of the pecking order in the ocean." "Oh man it's fucking terrifying," Shane answers with a small laugh. "Have you /seen/ some of the creepy-ass shit that lives in the ocean, Jesus. You know there's some scientists who say shit about how some fish are blind cuz of living in lightless places means over time they had no use for eyes but seriously? I think it's because holy /shit/ if you could see some of the horrifying monsters that lived deep in the water /you'd/ never want to see again either." "Oh!" Billy transitions from his smile to a wide-eyed, fretful look as if he might be concerned about them finding him, here. Or next time he takes a bath. "That's actually really scary." He brings up his good arm to cradle his bad one, "Can you-can you like, see in the dark or?" "It's pretty terrifying, yeah. But then again we eat most fish-things so maybe they think we're pretty terrifying. Even something /normal/ like a fucking octopus though, I would not want to tussle with." Shane tips his chin up in a nod, blinking -- half-blinking, anyway, a clear nictating membrane slides shut over his eyes though the opaque blue set of eyelids remains open. "Sure, yeah. I can see pretty okay in the dark. What /did/ happen -- uh, wait, should I not ask that?" He's nodding towards the injured arm. "Maybe I should just ask if there's something else I can get you." Billy blinks, shaking his head pleasantly to the request, "I uhm, I'm fine. Sorry, if I'm like, distracting you." Wetting his lips, he looks down to the arm, "Oh, this guy I know was arguing with someone on the street and the other guy, uh, had a gun. It was a whole thing." Billy peeks back up, gesturing casually, "He turned metal? And the bullets ricocheted off of him." He draws an index finger cutely towards his chin, "Collateral damage." "I'm totally good at distracting myself. Anyway things are pretty much clean and there's like. /One/ person at the counter --" Shane waves a hand off towards the counter where the barista is ringing up a customer. "I think she can handle it on her own. Wait. You caught bullets meant for someone /else/, that's shitty luck. Also I know like three people who can turn metal, is that /common/ or something? I would've thought it was -- pretty fucking. /Out/ there as powers go but I guess not." Billy shrugs his good shoulder, wincing a little, "I ...would have liked that power." He laughs through the pang of pain that shoots up his arm when he moves, "Honestly, I didn't even know he was a mutant." He glances back towards the barista, who is now checking her phone. "Are you sure? I mean, it's chaos over there." "Yeah, not everyone's blessed with looks like mine." Shane's teeth flash in a ferocious bright grin. "Some people just get the shitty hideable stuff like choosing when to be metal. He wasn't Russian, was he? Because I know like. The /sweetest/ guy. Except sometimes he's a giant metal monster. Actually he's still pretty sweet even then." His eyes flick over to the counter, gills flapping open and then closed once more. "It's a tough job but I have faith in her." Billy smiles, hesitating at the teeth, which do intimidate him, "No. He's from uhm, New Jersey? I want to say? He's uh, actually kindof mean." His pale eyes turn up in thought, "But does nice things." Eyes flitting back over to Shane, Billy brings his coffee mug to his lips, "I only met him twice. But he saved me. Twice." "Oh -- huh. OK, Jersey, that's not the guy then. One of the /other/ freaks I knew who turned into metal was a /giant/ fucking --" Shane bites the end of this sentence back with a wrinkle of nose, a small flutter of gills. "... also kindof mean," he finishes. "Though the/other/ other was this totally kickass chick who played piano like /woah/. Saved you /twice/? Do you make a habit of getting into places where you need saving? Cuz that's a dangerous pasttime." The blonde pouts, doe-eyeing Shane, "I'm not bad. I'm just drawn that way." He doesn't laugh, but presses him mouth into a thin line, "I'm helpless. I'm the-" As he goes to set down his coffee much, he loses strength in his hand and rattles the glass, spilling a bit of the hot, black liquid onto his lap, "-worst." "Ohjeez that was like. Fucking cinematic, I'd think you did it on purpose if coffee weren't so damn /hot/." Shane is grabbing some of the napkins as he speaks, dabbing down at the spill on Billy's lap. "Should I get you a straw? I have a friend, their hands are never steady so they always use the little -- stirry straws? For drinking. Waaay better than hot coffee on your groin." "I-I can do it, I can do it," Billy insists, gently trying to do the dabbing, himself. Reaching up to his mouth, he gently licks his finger and applies it to some of the stain. Rubbing, he erases the coffee from his pants, completely. "Shit. That's a handy trick. S'a good thing you look good in white, dude." Shane relinquishes the napkins to Billy once he takes over, leaning back a step. "See? You're not helpless at all." Billy gives the shark a look of mock-disagreement at the compliment, licking a finger again and rubbing into his lap. If the motion is suggestive at all, it's unintentional. He stops, eyes going wide in horror as if remembering something catastrophically important, "Your shirt." He slaps his hands down on his legs, "I ruined your shirt. I'm so sorry." "Huh?" Shane looks down at his shirt in sudden wide-eyed shock that just fades into puzzlement a moment later. "What. No you didn't? What are you talking a -- /oh/. Shit dude that was like forever ago." Billy tilts his head, smirking, "It was like, two weeks ago." He giggles, mouth hanging just barely open as he searches for more ways to apologize. Admittedly, at the time, Shane seemed legitimately upset about losing the shirt. Out of instinct, he goes to move his now defunct arm, only to be shot back by the stab of pain. Instead of an apology, he whimpers. "Like I said, /forever/ ago," Shane agrees with a small chuff of a laugh. "-- Shit, dude, you should watch that. Take it easy on yourself. Maybe try and go like. A week? Without needing saving. -- Though seriously if that dude got you /shot/ I don't know how that counts as /saving/ you anyway. Do you get like. Lifeguard points if you shove a kid into the deep end of the pool /first/ before diving in?" Billy cradles himself, seeming to give Shane's statement some thought. It's a little too bleak for Billy to respond to, especially since some part of him must agree - at least as far as Trib's lifesaving 'points' are concerned. "I can't just stay in my house," he just mumbles, helplessly. "Pff no of course you can't," Shane's agreement comes easily here, too. "But what you /can/ do is learn to take care of yourself better? Cuz I don't think the world's gonna get much less chaotic. And then you can just /enjoy/ the chaos instead of getting mowed over by it." The blonde quiets down, assuming a diffident posture. This isn't anything Billy hasn't heard before. He does try to be brave, but not everyone is a shark. Quite obviously, the speech does nothing to empower Billy. Instead, he just looks like he feels even more bad about himself. Because /obviously/ sharkmutation comes with +2 to bravery, /duh/. That's totally the explanation. A small twitch pulls up at the corner of Shane's mouth. "You can just take care of the bill whenever you're ready. Poke me if you need anything." Shane takes the crumpled napkins, tipping his chin up to Billy before turning to throw the napkins away and disappear back behind the counter. "Thanks," Billy responds dryly, eyes guiltily trailing up to watch Shane's feet as he walks away. Looking at the receipt, he thinks to himself that Shane forgot to charge for the shot of espresso. When he pays, he'll have to ask to pay for that, too.