ArchivedLogs:One Star

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One Star
Dramatis Personae

Anette, Heather

2017-04-19


"You look like you're here to make a drug deal."

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 rain this evening has been intermittent, and so Heather carries a blue and yellow umbrella over her head as she makes sure that her precious cargo is intact. For the time being, she is waiting as patiently as she can for her buyer to come get it: Trading cards, mint condition, bought from a seller who had no idea as to their value and resold by a clever entrepreneur with too much time on her hands for doing research. For the time being, they remain hidden in her messenger bag, in a plastic container, in protective sleeves.

She has positioned herself near the chess boards, watching an older couple play each other. Her motions are easy to detect as being unusual, as if she is on a constant fast forward, so that even the smallest movement appears unnatural. While some of the park-goers don't seem to notice her, there are a few who points at her and silently comment as to her appearance. And it's not just her movements that set her apart, it's the bright, almost jarring clothes that she has decided to wear: Bright purple, green and blue parachute pants with black zigzags down the legs, and the baggy fluorescent pink shirt don't exactly scream subtlety. For the most part, however, she remains rather silent while playing with her recorder in her otherwise unoccupied hand.

Anette doesn't appear to be as well protected against the rain, as evidenced by her stringy wet hair hanging limply down her neck. She does have a coat though, which seems to help a bit regarding keeping her dry, though its main purpose is to hide her wings from view. She still seems to be irritated though, mumbling to herself as she walks through the park, arms crossed her chest. Yellow eyes glance about casually, watching the older couple play for a moment before she catches the odd movements of Heather. She tilts her head, casually watching the girl, downright staring at her. "I think you need to ease up the caffeine," she says, offering a small smirk of humor.

Heather's eyes flick over towards Anette, and she pulls the tinted goggles that were previously resting against her forehead down over her eyes. Her stance goes a bit rigid for a split moment after Anette speaks to her. She brings the recorder up near her mouth and then plays out of it to Anette: "I was just thinking that I need more caffeine. I am getting sleepy." She looks up and down at Anette a couple of times and adds, "I was going to suggest you lay off of something in retaliation. But you look fine."

Anette grins a bit at Heather's reply. "Sleepy? I suppose I would be to if I were bouncing around like that." She shakes her head and makes her way over to a nearby bench, sitting down slowly, her stomach gently pudging out as she bends at the midsection. "Glad I look better than I feel. Just wish this weather would let up. I was going to go shopping. Nothing fits like it used to." As she speaks, she twists at and adjusts her clothes as if they are indeed uncomfortable. She glances back towards Heather, scanning her briefly. "You look like you're here to make a drug deal."

Heather glances about before following after Anette. She seems like she is being very intentional about not moving too quickly, but also welcoming the break from staring off in silence. "I bounce around because I experience time differently. Every twelve seconds, I experience a minute." She tilts her head slightly when Anette comments about shopping and mentions, "I get a lot of clothes at the thrift shop. It is inexpensive. And it is nice there. I am not here to make a drug deal. If I were making a drug deal I would probably look nervous. Do you think I look nervous?" She turns her face towards Anette, with eyebrows raised up high and slight twitches on her face more apparent for all of her speed.

"Well, it's hard to tell what you look like, you're moving too damned fast. Besides, nervous would only mean you were either new or stupid at dealing drugs." Anette nods in agreement with her comment on thrift stores. "I like them. Lots of vintage. Unfortunately I haven't seen a whole lot of maternity options. I think I have to go to a department store and just hope I don't get kicked out." She glances up at the still cloudy but temporarily rain-free sky before turning back towards Heather. "Twelve seconds is a whole minute, huh? That's interesting. So the rest of us are just….painfully slow to you then?"

"Yes painfully slow. But almost everyone is slow. So it is all equal to me," plays Heather. "There are other fast people out there though." She tilts her head slightly and continues, "If I were dealing drugs I would be new to dealing drugs. Maybe not stupid. And maybe not actually nervous. I try to avoid too many crimes though. Crimes get people arrested." She taps the side of her head a few times quickly with a finger knowingly, making a loud hollow sound when the tip of her finger collides with her skull. "Maternity? I guess I have never had cause to look. I guess there are special shops for that. Just for having babies. It seems like babies are important."

"Can't imagine there's many of them out there," Anette comments regarding other fast people. "Well, you must have a ton of patience to deal with the rest of the world and the average speed." Her mouth curls up in a half smirk. "Well, you're not wrong. Crimes do tend to lead to arrests so its probably good you're not dealing drugs then." As the topic turns to babies, Anette lets out a long, soft sigh. "Yeah, there are special shops. Expensive ones. And babies are…well, I guess they're important. They also just kinda…happen."

"My parents were arrested for crimes. That is not for me. What I am dealing trading cards. Mint condition. But the buyer is late. One star," plays Heather, shaking her head quickly and disapprovingly. "Do babies just happen? That is an uncomfortable thought. Do you like babies? They look delicate to me. My hands already can hurt people. I have never touched a baby. Have you touched a baby?"

Anette falls quiet when Heather admits her parents history, mulling over the words and falling silent until the topic moves on. "Trading cards? Are those still things? Well…you do you I suppose." Her grin, amused at the thought of trading cards, falls when babies are brought up again. "Sometimes, as careful as you try to be, babies do just happen." She presses her lips together, quiet again at Heather's question as if she has to think about it. "No. No, I haven't. Not…not really young ones anyway." She grits her teeth, as if this has added some new stress.

"Well. Actually. I guess you have. If you have a really young baby inside of you. You must be touching it," reasons Heather out loud, "It can't just be hovering in there." Pause. "Can it?" Her gaze moves down towards Anette's midsection as she considers this new thought. "Well. Usually I just tutor for work. But if I find something cheap online that I can sell. That is easy to transport. It is easy money. I have to make money where I can. I have to pay for the room. My roommate does not have a job yet."

"Well, carrying something inside of you is a bit different than carrying it in your arms," Anette says, setting her left hand down on the gentle bulge of stomach. "Tutoring? Fair job I suppose. Imagine it doesn't pay all that well. Then again I suppose that's why you're selling trading cards. Though that doesn't sound much like a roommate if they're not paying their fair share."

"She contributes. There are many things that I cannot do. I need help with things all the time," plays Heather, nodding a few times, "She has a physical mutation. And is having a hard time finding work. We were both out on the street until a few months ago. I am helping her hand out resumes. I've submitted one to the thrift store. But yes. That is why I am selling trading cards. And various other collector items." Her gaze turns suddenly to a middle-aged man in a cheap suit who is walking nearby and looking around. Heather waves her hand quickly in the air to get his attention.

The man looks over at Heather for a moment and upon seeing the motion of the woman's arm, says to himself at loud enough volume that it would be audible to Heather and Anette, "Didn't say she was a mutie... one star..." Despite having just looked directly at Heather, he turns around and pretends that he did not see her.

"Honest jobs are hard for visible mutants," Anette agrees, glancing to the side as the man approaches. She watches him and his actions as she listens to Heather, frowning slightly as he walks away. "I assume you just lost that sale?" she asks quietly. She turns back to Heather, her concern short-lived. "Well, it's good that you have each other then, and you've worked something out. Being mutant is impossible alone."

Heather jaw tenses and she does not move from her spot, "Yes. I lost that sale. It is fine. They will sell. These things happen." Her words don't quite match with the slump in her shoulders that settles in. "You are right. It is impossible alone. It is good having a community. Do you have a community?" The young woman unfolds her umbrella completely and rests it by her side as she looks back to the game between the two elderly folks.

“Yeah. It happens,” Anette repeats, reacting more tense to Heather’s lost sale. “But yeah, I’m sure it’ll sell. Plenty of people out there weird enough to want cards and not care who’s selling it.” At Heather’s next question, she grins a bit and leans back against the bench. “Yeah…yeah, you can say that. A little...unconventional but they work well enough. Stood by me when they had every reason not to. Can’t complain.”

"There is nothing wrong with unconventional. So long as it is something that works," plays Heather. She pauses her recorder and make an exaggerated sort of shrug, hitting play again when she is done, "I think it is good for young people to have a community. I would have liked that growing up. If that is something that you are providing to your baby it seems like a good thing."

“It works. For me at least. I’m not...I’m not sure it’s the best community for a baby. But the alternative is no community at all so…” Anette gives a less exaggerated shrug. “I guess I’ll just have to see what happens. Doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of good options out there.”

“Good options for a baby?” plays Heather, “I would not know. But it seems like you are probably right.” She purses her lips for a moment while quietly fidgeting. “What makes you say that the alternative is no community at all though?”

“I tend to burn more bridges than I cross. I’m not great at making friends or finding new community. I got lucky with the one I have. They’re all I have,” Anette says, watching as the elderly couple packs up their game as more clouds roll in, threatening another downpour.

Heather's gaze turns upwards towards the sky when she notices it darken a bit further. "I am not good at friends either. Or community. I have been lucky as well." She considers that for a few moments, "Oh! If you ever need a babysitter in the future. When the baby comes out. I can give you Paige- my roommate's- resume. You do not seem to have a problem with mutants. And she would benefit from the work."

Anette’s attention suddenly turns back to Heather, raising a brow as she mentions her roommate. “Wait, Paige? Is she a little goat girl? Fur, horns, likes to wear baggy sweatshirts?” Anette shakes her head though, turning her head to look up at the sky as well. “I’ll be good. Not that I wouldn’t like to help her out but I don’t really have the money for a sitter. Don’t really need one either. At least I don’t think.”

"Paige is not a little girl. But she is shorter than me. And she has goat horns. And she has fur. She wears baggy sweatshirts. She does not like my clothes. Do you know her? She is my roommate," plays Heather, before she nods, "I expected you might not. But it was worth a try. I would have offered to babysit as well but as we established I do not want to."

“I know she’s not. But she’s just so...innocent? It’s adorable really. Surprised it lasted this long. Anyway, small world.” Anette rises from the bench and stretches her legs out. “Yeah, I met her a while ago. She’s a...I dunno. What’s between friend and acquaintance?” She looks around the area slowly and, deeming it relatively safe, removes her jacket and lets her wings stretch out. “I probably should get going before the weather gets worse. Flying in rain is a bitch. Take care and tell Paige I said hi.”

"Innocent? Hm. I will keep that in mind," plays Heather, rising to her feet. "I will pass your greeting on to her. I have it recorded. But I will delete the recording once it has been passed to her." She makes a quick hand gesture, a two-fingered salute, and then zips off.