ArchivedLogs:Not A Fan

Not A Fan
Dramatis Personae Allison, Harm, Heather	2017-08-20 "Hiding your freak just to get people to love you. Think we don't see right through you now?"
Location <NYC> Lower East Side
Historically characterized by crime and immigrant families crammed into cramped tenement buildings, the Lower East Side is often identified with its working-class roots. Today, it plays host to many of New York's mutant poor, although even here they are still often forced into hiding. It's a glorious summer evening, and many New Yorkers are out enjoying the balmy weather in the long strip of greenspace lining Houston street. There are a few buskers set up along the sidewalk and an NYPD patrol car cruising indolently down the street in the general direction of Chinatown. Heather is zipping down the street, chirping things to herself here and there. She wears a loose blue button up shirt and a pair of tie-dyed yoga pants, and on her back is a very plastic looking Spongebob backpack. Every once in awhile she stops, makes a note or two in the journal that she's holding in her hands. She pauses a moment in front of one of the buskers to deposit a few coins, despite not being quite able to understand his performance. Having taken an Uber ride over, Allison slips out of the car after paying the driver, then heads across the street towards the Evolve Cafe. Wearing a pair of snug flexible skinny jeans and a local college sweat shirt, she seems to be able to blend in with any crowd even though she has a famous face. At least around these parts these days. She is tapping away at her phone with one hand, smiling as it beeps back at her. Harmony, dressed in a short-sleeve purple-pink ombre tunic and white capris, is walking side by side with a middle-aged Chinese man who resembles them not a little. "{...but humans are welcome there, too, and the food /is/ pretty good,}" they're saying in Mandarin as they lead the man toward Evolve, though they come up short, eyes widening at Heather's impressive pace. The busker tips his threadbare porkpie hat with a flourish at Heather's generosity before going back to playing. Nearby, a young white man with floppy mid-length brown hair is leaning against a straggly street tree. He perks up as Allison approaches, and goes up to meet her. He's wearing a 'Dazzler' merch t-shirt and baggy jean shorts. An eager fan, perhaps? Evidently not. "Bitch," he says, low and menacing. "Hiding your freak just to get people to love you. Think we don't see right through you now?" Heather bows slightly to busker in return, gives him a quick thumbs up and then flips her goggles on back over her eyes. She stops upon seeing someone she recognizes near Evolve, offering Allison a wave, but she does not seem to comprehend the aggressive tone of the man approaching her. Evidently, she just thinks him some kind of fan, as instead of doing much more she flips her phone out of her pocket. Lifting her hand upwards to wave back to Heather, Allison gives a bright smile, that is until the man speaks to her. She gives a visible jolt, taking a few steps back from him. "I ... um ... what? What are you talking about?" She asks as she slips her phone back into her pocket, giving a quick glance to Heather, then back to him. "I'm not hiding anything. I'm .. sorry you're upset?" "You should speak /English/ unless you in Chinese neighborhood," the middle-aged man admonishes Harmony, his own English coming out with a heavy Mandarin accent. "Even though you are born American, you can get in trouble if they think you are foreigner. This is not San Francisco." "Ba, there's /tons/ of Chinese people here," Harmony says, indignant. "And with the English sickness still floating around, lots of people speak other languages just to be safe, anyway." Their eyes skip aside to Allison and the 'fan' as they draw nearer. Their brows gather and they slow down slightly, watching the interaction. "Yeah well you hid it long enough to trick us into loving you." The young man shifts his posture, suddenly closer to Allison and looming over her a little. "But you were a freak all along. Like all the rest, trying to take over our neighborhoods, our cities, our /country," he growls. "You best run back to your daddy, you best run all the way back to Long Island, cuz you're not gonna make it in New York." He takes another step forward into Allison's space, and will collide with her unless she backs down. "Perdon," plays Heather on her recorder, directed to the young man, "You are acting strange. Are you in need of assistance?" She takes a few rapid steps forward, not to get in-between the young man and Allison, but to get next to them. This time, with a click, she hits the record button and holds it up a bit lazily. Continuing to take a step back every time he steps forward, Allison says, "I'm sorry, I never meant to mislead anyone. I'm just as scared as anyone else about this. I'm not trying to take over anything. Honest." She looks over to Heather as she heads over, biting her bottom lip for a moment. "Hey, everything is okay. Just .. ah .. a fan who's .. upset." Harmony tenses when the 'fan' gets in Allison's face, but relaxes visibly when Heather steps up. Still, they tug on the sleeve of their companion, bringing them both to a stop nearby. "{Dad, I think that person is being harassed,} they say quietly, in Mandarin again, "{we should stay for a minute in case they need help.}" "{This is none of our business,}" their father quips, though he does not start walking again just yet. "{Let them sort it out themselves. This is how things go in cities. You keep your nose out of these things.}" "I'M NOT YOUR FAN!" the young man roars abruptly, shoving Allison hard and following close as though he intends to do more. "You're just like that motherfucker who charms people with his music, getting inside our heads with your freak powers. Well I'm not letting you." His hands clench into fists as he advances on Allison. While Heather does not intervene during the push, she zips into position behind Allison to stabilize her and make sure that she does not fall to the ground. Her touch is fairly rough despite the amount of care that she puts into it, but it is enough to allow the singer to regain her footing. When she can free up a hand, she plays, "Back off," on her recorder, keeping the same flat tone as she always has, "Or I will push you back." As she is shoved, Allison lets out a loud screech of surprise, tripping over her foot and tumbles backwards. As she is caught by Heather from behind, she looks back at her, then towards the man as she rightens up. "No one has to hit anyone.. violence doesn't get us anywhere. Just leave me alone ... please." "Um, should I call the police, or something?" Harmony says, taking a half-step forward, their voice quavering and uncertain and higher-pitched than usual. They have their phone out, in both hands, but not in a position that would make a whole lot of sense for either texting or calling. "{Keep quiet,}" their father hisses, pulling them back. "{This has nothing to do with you!}" "Oh yeah, you got your whole freak gang backing you up now," says the young man hotly, not backing off. "Go ahead, then, push me BACK!" He shoves Allison much harder this time, trying to knock her into Heather. Up the block, the police cruiser which had been stopped at the intersection makes a u-turn without so much as putting on its lights or turning on its sirens, pulling to a stop at the curb nearby and disgorging two police officers: one short black woman and the other a tall, sallow white man. Neither looks particularly alarmed, perhaps because two Sentinels are climbing out of the back to join them. "No cops. Maybe video?" plays Heather in Harmony's direction, maximizing the volume and raising the recorder slightly. Despite her thin frame, Heather is rather sturdy, and she once again braces herself to keep Allison standing. "Stpbak," she says to Allison, her extremely high pitched, squeaky voice (like a chipmunk on fast forward) making her natural speech nearly incomprehensible. She looks past the young man, though, and furrows her eyebrows upon seeing the sentinels and cops. As she is shoved again, Allison grits her teeth, fists clenching up as she stares back at him. With a deep breath, she lets it out and gives a shake of her head. "I'm not going to fight you, no one is. Fighting is stupid and lame. Come on, Heather, let's go get a sandwich." She says as she tugs on her arm, looking to head for the cafe door. "Oh no!" Harmony squeaks when the police show up. "I didn't call them, I swear. But I'm recording this now!" They aim their phone with shaking hands at the scene. Then, under their breath. "I think?" Their father is physically trying to coax them along now, casting nervous sidelong glances at the Sentinels. "Yeah that's right, freak." The young man seems /excited/ now, bouncing from one foot to the other, though he does cast a hesitant glance at first the police, then Harmony's phone. "Run away. /Keep/ running, your day will come." The Sentinels surge forward abruptly without any obvious indication from their handlers. The white cop actually groans, and his partner shakes her head, blurting "Not /again/!" But they aren't actually going after the belligerent ex-fan, Allison, /or/ Heather. They make a line directly for Harmony and their father, reaching out steel and composite hands to grasp their arms. "You are detained by order of the NYPD," the robots say in calm, pleasant unison. "Stand down and follow the officers' instructions." Heather is dragged away a few paces by Allison, though even holding onto her is a little uncomfortable. She chirps something and tries gently to tug her arm free from Allison's grip. She operates her recorder with one hand, gesturing first to Harmony and the man they are with, "Those people are pedestrians. They are just here." She gestures to the former fan while the message continues to play, "This man assaulted," gestures to Allison, "this woman. Your robots are mistaken. Por favor, redirect your robots." She slips the volume slider down while it finishes playing, so that only Allison will be able to hear easily, "These robots are very stupid." "Woah! They're innocent. This guy was attacking me for no reason." Allison says as she lets go of Heather. "We just want to be left alone to get lunch. We don't want any trouble." She eyes the crazed fan for a moment before looking back to the officer's pleadingly. Harmony submits, wide-eyed and petrified, to the Sentinels. "Sorry -- oh no, I mean to say -- dwei bu chi! Ow!" They wince only a little when seized. "I was just filming!" Their father says nothing at all, though also clearly terrified, as he is 'detained' by the robots. The two meat cops are hastening to catch up with their malfunctioning robotic helpers now. "Move along now," the white one is barking at...apparently everyone on the sidewalk, including Heather, Allison, the angry ex-fan, and the slowly gathering rubberneckers. "Nothing to see here." This is quite patently a lie, as his partner is busy trying to enter some sort of override code onto a device that had been hanging from her hip. "Stand down, stand down, /stand down/, you walking junkpiles." Pictures are getting snapped and both officers are looking more agitated. "Get out of here, /now/," the white cop snaps. "We have this under control." Heather grinds her teeth together, which is actually very loud because of how quickly they move. She gestures towards Allison to move a little ways away, but does not seem inclined to leave the scene. With her volume slider still low, she plays, "That person was going to film for us." She raises her own phone and starts a video of her own, the phone in one hand and recorder in the other. "If things go bad I need to intervene fast. Those robots have been making problems. Paige had problems with one. I've read other news." "Heather, let the cops handle it. They will be fine .." Allison trails off a bit with uncertainty in her voice. She takes a few steps back as well, swallowing tightly as it seems she has forgotten about her 'fan' for now. The cops and the robots appear to be the bigger source of attention now. "Hey everyone!" She calls out. "Just do what they say and go about your business. They got this. Everything will be fine." The angry ex-fan has lost much of his bravado since the police actually arrived. He's been inching toward the edge of the scene and finally just slinks off without another word. The Sentinels do not, for the moment, do anything except hold their dangerous bystanders while the cops huddle over their device. It takes them another couple of minutes to finally override the Sentinels, who release their detainees unceremoniously and return to the cruiser. The black cop apologizes briefly to Harmony and their father before returning with her partner to their vehicle. Harmony doesn't move from the spot where they had been detained until the police have actually gotten into their car and driven away. Then they look down at their phone and tap the screen once. "Wow," is all they say, finally, drawing their father slowly toward Evolve again.