ArchivedLogs:Idle Threats

Idle Threats
Dramatis Personae Eric, Lucien, Tess	2013-12-03 '
Location <NYC> Tompkins Square Park - East Village
Small but popular, this tree-lined park is a perfect centerpiece to the eclectic neighborhood it resides in. Home to a number of playgrounds and courts from handball to basketball, it also houses a dog park and chess tables, providing excellent space for people watching -- especially during its frequent and often eccentric festivals, from Wigstock to its yearly Allen Ginsberg tribute Howl festival. The past few days haven't been as bitterly cold as the ones before them; still brisk but well above freezing. It lures more people out to the park -- though the city is still a good deal quieter than usual and many of the parkgoers come /armed/ with crowbars or baseball bats the mood is fairly relaxed. Lucien isn't all that bundled up against the cold, leather jacket and a green-and-black cashmere scarf but no hat, no bulky layers. He's seated himself on one of the stone seats at the chess tables, and perhaps he's been playing a game -- there's pieces laid out, some at the side and some in front of him. Black has won, the white king on his side tipped over, and at the moment he's just looking down at the board with a fixed gaze. A thermos sits on the edge of the stone table, though at present it seems to have been forgotten. Even as the city has started to calm down, the police department is both everywhere and nowhere. Short-shifted, under-staffed, and still being covered by the Army, the uniforms of officers from all over the state who have been called out to help with the cleanup are a common sight. It's not, perhaps, unusual then to see one striding along the edge of the park. A little bit more unusual is the fact that no other officers are next to him, and though in uniform, he doesn't have a submachine-gun slung over one shoulder. Eric's pace is slow, eyes glancing slowly running back and forth over the streets, the alleyways, one hand not straying too far from the expandable baton hanging from his waist. He does slow even further when he catches sight of Lucien, blinking. His path changes, heading into the park as he raises a hand in acknowledgement. "Hello, there," he calls out to the other man. "How'ya doing?" And then there's the kids, like Tess. She's not exactly dressed like she's rich, though her clothes were clearly not cheap at one point, they've been thoroughly devalued by being torn at places, and worn everywhere. She's headed to Lucien, about to open her mouth to ask him something when she sees the cop. She takes a doubletake, and then decides to just keep walking, changing course slightly, pretty obviously avoiding said authority figure. Lucien /is/ dressed like he's rich, in somewhat of a contrast to many of the more bedraggled members of the city lately; his leather jacket is well-cut and well-maintained, his shoes polished, his dark pants tailored to fit, and the watch peeking out from beneath the jacket sleeve may well have cost as much as some people's cars. He looks at the moment, though, mostly /tired/, a heavy run-down slump that /does/ kind of fit in with the rest of the city's atmosphere. It takes a considerable length of time before he drags his gaze upwards from the chess board, frowning faintly at Eric as though puzzled. His eyes shift back downwards; only at a significant delay again does he look up once more. "Oh." One short syllable as he transitions from puzzlement to recognition. "I know you." His brilliant green eyes shift away from Eric, watching Tess's approach -- and then avoidance -- with a puzzled look once more. His brows furrow together when she almost-speaks. "-- Do I know /you/?" His quiet words are softly accented, a francophone tinge mellowing his speech more than the average New Yorker. "We met. At the Mendel clinic, and before. I'm Shane's..." Eric trails off, a wry smile twisting at his lips as he glances at Tess, a brief look equal parts bemused and suspicious. "Friend." The police officer says, after a brief pause. Eric shifts on the balls of his feet, rocking up and then back down. "L... L something, right? 'M better with faces then names, but I certainly remember your face. I don't think I've ever been threatened with death and blown at the same time before. Ain't easy t' forget." A flash of white teeth in a warm smile, even as his gaze flicks back to Tess, considering. "As much as I might want to forget some a' the stuff I saw at that warehouse." Damn, Tess thinks, he's noticed. She stops and turns back towards the two men, "Pretty sure we haven't, mister. I was thinking maybe you wanted to play some chess with me, but then your friend came up and I thought it might be better not to disturb." She smiles as she says it, but she looks comfortable. She's not exactly lying, but there's bits and pieces she's not exactly saying either, and that much is obvious. "I hope I didn't cause you any trouble, misters." "{Right, yes, I remember.}" Lucien's first words are in quiet French; he remembers belatedly to switch back to English. "You are the one who fucks children, that is hard to forget as well." His tone now is just bland, neutral and even. "Lucien," he supplies when Eric fails to come up with his name; he turns to Tess afterwards with a very small twitch at the corner of his mouth that might be a smile. Or might not. "And we are not friends. We just seem to run into each other a lot when the world is turning ugly." This causes Eric's ever present smile to fade, expression hardening as his eyes pin Lucien. "Nah, you're not interruptin', hun. Just talkin'. You can have him for chess." The police officer's fingers twitch at his waist, fingers drumming along his leather belt. "You might best remember what side you've found me on when things've been going bad, 'for you go making enemies, my friend." Tess glances towards Eric when Lucien shares a little bit of Eric's supposed past, and promptly decides not to give the cop too much attention, or give time to look at her face too closely. So the sixteen year old girl looks towards Lucien again. "Okay, so. Want to play chess? I'm not very good, but I know how to play." She looks at the board again, and at how rich his clothes look, "It's a cheap form of entertainment, you know?" "Eric, if I were your enemy, you would know it." Lucien's fingers rest on the cold stone of the table, drumming a quick staccato rhythm against it. "Though I do find the attempts to be threatening rather charming." His eyes lower to the board, fixing on the toppled king there. "Things do seem to be going bad fairly constantly, though. Perhaps we are past 'going'. Things are just -- ugly." He's slow to move his hand, setting the pieces back in place one by one with a deliberateness of motion that makes it look like doing so is somewhat an /effort/. "I am not currently very good either," he assures Tess wryly. "And yet I persist." "I'm glad that you're charmed." Eric says, frostily. "And when I'm threatenin' you, you will know it as well. As I said, we're just talkin'." He gives Tess a small nod and a quick smile, then turns on one foot to head back out towards the path. He doesn't make more than a few steps before he pauses and turns back around to watch. One hand dips into a jacket pocket and comes out with a phone. Swipe, swipe. (Eric --> Dusk): You home? And then Tess grabs two pawns one white and one black. She shuffles them below the table then holds them in closed hands above, distant from Lucien. "Left or Right?" She avoids looking towards Eric or giving him too easy a glance at her face, for some reason. "It's the only way to get better, right? Persistence." "And yet," Lucien murmurs softly, with a very brief flick of a glance up to Eric. "Funny how hostile you grow when I did nothing at all save state the truth. Are you denying you sleep with him? Or that he is a minor? Because if simply acknowledging those facts puts your hackles this far up, perhaps you need to reevaluate your choices." His eyes shift slowly to Tess, and then down to the board. He beckons with one finger towards her left hand. "-- Though if this is black, you can set the board back up. I am not switching seats." "As I'm quite sure a guy like ya knows, words have a meanin' as well as the ones in the book," Eric says, eyes flicking up to the two chess players, lips in a flat line. "Ain't as simple as all that, and you damn well know it." He crosses his arms over his chest, glancing down at the screen of his phone and giving it a dirty look. "My hostility's just returnin' the favor from yours." It turns out Lucien's worry was unwarranted, he picks white. Tess places the pawns back where she took them from and starts thinking of how to react to what Lucien might open with. "Pedo cops, wish I could say I'm surprised they exist. Regardless of whether or not you are one, sir." That last bit is clearly towards Eric, and the 'sir' has a hint of venom to it. "Do I seem hostile, to you?" Lucien asks this with wide and /totally/ innocent eyes, the question directed apparently towards Tess rather than Eric. "Really, on the grand scheme of things that police in this city have done to mutant children, /pleasuring/ them falls on the better end of the scale." He moves his king's pawn forward to open, just as slow and deliberate as he was when setting up the board. "Forgive me," his tone is still calm and neutral and carries no real trace of apology, "I am being uncharitable. When clothed, Officer Sutton has done a world of good for New York's downtrodden." "I've done quite a bit of good while unclothed, too," Eric says, though this is quiet enough that it might be more to himself than to Tess or Lucien. "I suggest you watch your words, little miss, 'specially on things you know nothin' 'bout." His eyes flash with annoyance. "Lest I decide to wonder to myself if your folks know where you are." Tess replies by moving her black pawn one forward, leaving it unable to be taken. She waits for him to move next, and it's clear she's studied some openings, though her impromptu play once she's outside what she knows leaves a lot to be desired. "Sorry, sir." She's looking really hard at the chess board, avoiding making it too easy for him to see anything. "Don't mind me, I'm just a bit bitter lately." That first comment actually draws a smile out of Lucien, quick but briefly amused. The smile fades as he looks back to the chessboard; it takes him a considerable while to make his next move, both the decision process and actual /moving/ of the piece seeming to require a lot of concentration. "You and most of this town, I should think," he murmurs in answer to Tess. "It has been a bitter sort of season." His eyes flick up to Eric, and then back down. "Honestly, what would you do about it if not? These days anyone's parents are as likely as not to be dead. Half of New York simply has nowhere else to go." "Idle threats are still threats," Eric points out, swiping his finger over the screen once more and then pocketing his phone in one swift movement. "Ain't mean I'm plannin' on givin' nobody a hard time, if'n they're doin' the same to me. After all, I'm supposed ta report any kids without parents to OCFS so they can be put into the system." This seems to bore the police officer, and he shakes his head. "Ain't like we got bigger fish to fry or nothin'." Tess matches Lucien's thinking speed once she's out of her memorized openings, which is fairly quick. By then she's as slow as he is, maybe even slower. Lucien's comments on the idleness of the threat raise a kind of frown on Tess's face, but she doesn't comment on it. "So how big are those OCFS files getting nowadays? I'm sure the recent bullshit hasn't been kind to their weight." "Idle threats are like a sparrow puffing its chest-feathers to make you think it is bigger." Lucien reaches for his thermos, slowly uncapping it to let steam rise; he studies the board as he takes a small sip. "But, certainly, yes. Still threats, you are not wrong there." His lips thin. He sets the thermos back down to lean in and move again. "The system." Here he does sound a touch hostile, a sharper edge creeping into his previously gentle tone. "OCFS was a joke before this catastrophe. I cannot imagine they are any more together now." "No argument from me, there." Eric says, shrugging his shoulders non-committally. "I'm sure, quite the contrary, they have managed'ta get even worse than they were before. With everythin' else a mess, and me and mine not around to clean up after 'em, I'm sure they're worse'n useless." The police officer looks up as a figure steps into the other side of the park, one hand automatically moving to his side, before relaxing as the figure jogs through towards the other side. During this conversation, Tess focuses on the board, it means she doesn't have to look up and give the cop a better look at her face. It's a very good excuse for it, at least so she thinks. Of course, just as she makes a move, her stomach complains loudly, and she already looks kinda underweight. "Well, makes your threat even less of one, doesn't it, sir?" She asks, sounding at least partially amused, though the bitter aspect is still there. "This neighborhood was remarkably zombie-free even through the worst of it." Lucien's remark follows Eric's reaching for his sidearm, his eyes following the path of Eric's but returning to the game soon after. He focuses a little longer than before, and his hand shakes slightly as he reaches to make his move. "Really, right about now threats just seem frivolous. What could you possibly threaten a New Yorker with today that is worse than what they've all just lived through." "Their idiocy makes them more'a threat, not less, little miss. If they were competent, then they'd be able'a prioritize the things that actually matter ina time like this, and not worry 'bout the things that don't matter." Eric shrugs his shoulders once, a quick, almost dismissive motion. "It's gonna be a while 'for I stop reaching to draw when somethin' jumps out at me. Habit that's kept me 'live these last few ain't easy to break." "I'd say he could threaten to kill me, but in some sense he already did." Tess replies in between moves, her voice again becoming almost entirely bitter, maybe even a touch of grief in there, but she hides it as well as she can, instead making another move. "Check." Unfortunately, she missed that Lucien can get out of Check and Mate her with a single move. "But we all got our problems, don't we?" "Kept /you/ alive?" For some reason this seems to amuse Lucien. His head shakes as he looks over Eric, and then back to Tess. "It's alright," he says to her. "Sparrow." His hand gestures towards his chest, making a small motion like he is miming puffing it out. "Besides. For all his flaws, Officer Sutton does not seem to share his brothers' bloodlust. Idle threats." He studies the board intently, reaching first for one piece but then lowering his hand. "Indeed we do." He changes his mind, instead shifting a different piece forward. "I believe you'll find that to be one of yours. Mate. Would that all problems were so painless. When was the last time you had a meal?" Eric chuckles as well, in some private joke between the two men. "So to speak." The police officer spreads his hands out in a gesture of supplication, a long, exaggerated shrug. "Indeed. Of my many vices, that ain't one." A pause, and he tugs a packet of cigarettes out of a pocket, drawing it out and sticking it into his mouth. A lighter is next, and before long, Eric is drawing in a long drag, the tip of the cigarette glowing bright orange. "This', though," he says, smoke curling out of his nostrils. Tess watches the cigarette warily, but for a brief moment, her excuse to stare at the board taken away from her. She does, for formality's sake, push over her king. "Well played, I missed that one." She considers how to answer his question before deciding on honesty. "Yesterday, and it wasn't all that much." "Live through this past month, and I think we have all /earned/ our vices." Lucien watches the king topple with a small curl of smile. "Thank you," he tells Tess. "I enjoyed that." He shifts where he sits so that he can pull his wallet from a back pocket, opening it to check inside. He retrieves from it a pair of twenties, offering them across the chess board between two fingers. "Things have been hard enough without going hungry through them," he says as he stands, starting to collect the chess pieces back into a small box. "Yeah, that's for sure." Eric drawls, smile tugging at his lips. "Alright. Time for me ta do what I came'ta do." Eric glances over the other two for one moment, then nods to himself, once, twice. "See you 'round, Lucien. Hopefully not sooner than later, if we're keepin'ta our tradition." He raises two fingers to his forehead in an easy salute. "Good'ta meet'ya, miss. Stay outa trouble." With that, the police officer turns on one foot to head back towards the main street, and the Lofts beyond. "I'll try, sir." Tess tells Eric, avoiding giving him a straight look at her face as much as she can, and turns to Lucien again, grabbing the money he hands out but carefully avoiding touching him. "Thanks." She watches Eric go, and waits for him to be out of earshot, "I'm Tess. Nice to meet you, Lucien. Do you come here often?" "I am sure I will see you again all too soon." Lucien snaps the case shut once all the pieces are away, answering Eric's salute with a small nod. "Often enough. I don't live far. Enchanté, Tess. Perhaps I will see you around, as well."