ArchivedLogs:Queenside Castling

Queenside Castling
Dramatis Personae Alexandrine, Iolaus, Lucien, Sera
In Absentia	2013-01-20 Chess in the park.
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. January it might be, but the weather is mild for winter; though cloudy it's broken into the low 50s and this combined with the weekend means the park is as a result quite busy. Somewhere in the center a group of performers do acrobatics to the time of a lively drumbeat, and on the basketball court a pickup game is loud and rowdy. The playgrounds are all quite packed, and beside one of them a young man perches, some distance away from both the playing children and the hovering parents conversing by nearby benches. Dressed casual but chic in neat-tailored dark jeans and a slim-fit grey peacoat over his green button-down, he sits on a bench by himself. There is a book in his lap though he is only intermittently paying attention to it; more frequently, Lucien's green eyes stray towards the playground and the children roughhousing on the equipment. The soft clink of stone on stone and the sound of flesh against plastic can be heard from a few of the stone chess tables bordering the bench area in the playground as pieces are placed and captured, and the clicks tick ever constantly down towards defeat. Most of the occupants of the tables are casually dressed, in light jackets and jeans, but one occupant is dressed in a pair of grey slacks and a dress shirt, open one button at the throat. Iolaus is smiling lightly at his opponent, a fixed expression, as nimble fingers reach out to capture a pawn on the opponent's half of the board. "Mate in four, I think." he murmurs, glancing sideways at the clock. Alexandrine emerges from that group of hovering parental figures, laughing and calling farewells and agreeing to vague promises of seeing people soon. Her black leather jacket is somewhat unzipped, though still belted around her waist. Red hair contrasts against both and the bright blue of the sweater dress beneath it, silvery tights covering her legs until her black knee high boots take over. She hesitates a moment, habit warring with resolution, before she gives in, asking the young man on the bench "Do you mind if Ah sit here?" Lucien's lips thin, his posture shifting as the woman approaches, just a little straighter, just a little tenser through broad shoulders. His hand tips upwards, outwards, gesturing towards the bench beside him even as he moves himself slightly more to its edge. "It is a public park," he murmurs, quiet baritone softened with a distinctly francophone accent as his eyes sweep Alexandrine and her attire. "Are you enjoying your afternoon?" He asks this while looking away, attention drawn by the nearby game, watching the exchange of pieces with the same thoughtful regard he had been giving the playground full of children. "Not at all," Iolaus' opponent counters, and but a few short moves later, Iolaus is proven wrong. It only took three moves. Even as his fingers reach out to stop and reset the timer, Iolaus gives the other man a warm smile, holding his hand out over the table. "A good game. If you had not hung that knight, I think you might very well have taken me." A firm handshake, and then two sets of hands set about righting the table back to its starting position. "Another?" Iolaus' opponent shakes his head, and departs with a few words of farewell. This leaves the doctor's attention open, glancing first at the other games, then around the park at large, looking over the parents, the children, the people sitting on the benches. Alexandrine gives the man on the bench a warm, reassuring smile as she carefully takes a spot on the bench while tucking her skirt carefully under her legs. "Well, it's polite to ask, is all. Ah am, thank you. Are you? The break in the snow and cold is pretty welcome, at least to me." Her words are simple, tone of voice upbeat as her eyes keep roaming over the playground, lingering on a couple of the children that are playing and racing about. "Cold?" Lucien's lips twitch, slightly, approaching a smile though not quite making one. "It has not been cold. Today is pleasant, though, I will grant you that." For a moment longer he watches the empty chess board, turning slightly to look at the board and the man beside it. But then he shakes his head slightly, looking back over to the playground and its children. "Are any of those yours?" Iolaus' eyes meet Lucien's, and he gestures invitingly to the other half of the table. When the other man shakes his head, Iolaus nods once and turns to the other tables beside him, watching the other games going on with an interested eye. He stands from his seat, taking a few steps away from his table and pulling out his cell phone. His finger slides across the screen for several moments before he pockets it once more and moves to sit down, patiently, waiting out the clocks on the other games. Alexandrine laughs. "Well, it's been cold to me, as a transplant." She concedes that to a native, maybe it hasn't been so cold. Blue eyes glance his way, brows lifted up before she shakes her head in the negative. "Oh, no no. Ah teach some of them. Dance classes, specifically. Just happened to be going this way." Her fondness for said children is clear in her expression and tone, though it's not overly done or... you know, creepy. "I am a transplant, as well," Lucien murmurs, "though from further north rather than further south. What sort of dance?" In his expression and tone there is nothing more than dispassion; thoughtful assessment of Alexandrine. Thoughtful assessment of the children. To Iolaus' right, one of the games finishes - but rather than freeing up any players, the two immediately start their next game. The doctor frowns and stands up, stretching briefly before turning and heading in the direction of the two transplants on the bench with a smile. << Perhaps he will be interested in being saved from that conversation. >> "Hello." Iolaus says, with a glance at Alexandrine and Lucien. "I don't suppose I could interest either of you two in a game?" he offers, gesturing with one hand towards the chess table. A brief furrow appears in his brow as he looks over Lucien a little bit closer, as if trying to read a slightly blurry sign. << Huh. A patient's relative, maybe? Or somewhere... from somewhere? Evolve? >> He makes sure not to keep his gaze too long before he flicks it back and forth once more, lest it devolve into staring. "Ah teach the usual, at the moment. You know, ballet, tap, jazz, contemporary, beginner hip hop. Ah'm currently working to be able to be an instructor for ballroom an' latin." Alex answers, gaze shifting from a little blond girl back to Julien. "Quebec?" It's just a guess. Alex allows the chess seeking man a smile, a hand lifting in a gesture that's just a little bit of a wave. "No, thank you. Ah haven't played in years. Ah'd be terribly rusty. "That is quite a range of talents," Lucien murmurs, eyebrows raising thoughtfully; he might almost look impressed if he did not follow it with, "Though there is something to be said for specialization. I find generalists most often to have a wide breadth of knowledge but no real /depth/ to any of it." He follows this with a smile! It's a thin one, though, directed up at Iolaus as the man approaches. "I am always interested in chess. Should I be nervous? I did just see you decimate your opponent." "That depends on entirely how good you are." Iolaus says, returning the smile with a rather more generous one of his own. "But I am far from a Master, so on that, you do not have to worry." He gestures back towards the table, glancing at Alexandrine. "It's never too late to pick it back up once more. It is, perhaps, not quite like riding a bike, but...." he trails off, looking back to Lucien. Alexandrine just lifts her chin a bit, refraining from the urge to make some sort of noise. "When one has been doing it daily for twenty years or so, one has time to develop depth in multiple subjects. Ah specialized in a few for years, then added as Ah got older." Her tone has certainly lost some of the southern warmth, even as she flashes the chess seeker another smile. "Perhaps some other time, if Ah am so lucky to run across you. Ah should likely attend to other things, today. Ah hope you both have a lovely day, gentlemen." The redhead rises, a smile and wave for them both before she's heading for the playground for a quick hug from that little blonde girl, then heading out of the park. "I suppose depth is all relative," Lucien murmurs, "when used to a bathtub, even a swimming pool feels expansive. But next to the ocean --" He turns his eyes upwards, a /genuine/ smile finally creeping along his lips as Alexandrine stands to leave. "And you, of course," he murmurs, turning his eyes afterwards back to the playground. He watches it for a moment, then stands, fingers unfolding to gesture to the chess table. "Please." Iolaus nods his head politely as Alexandrine departs, but his attention soon turns back to Lucien. He nods, stepping forward and leading the other man over to the table, though he does not immediately take a seat. "Which color would you prefer?" he asks, picking up the chess clock and resetting it back to its original time of 30 minutes with a few taps at the different buttons. "I am happy to play either." "Black." Lucien seats himself at the table appropriately, tucking his book into his jacket. "Do you come here often?" His fingers rest on the edge of the board, lips pursing thoughtfully. "Not very often." Iolaus admits, sitting down across from the other man and replacing the chess clock in its proper position. He gestures towards it, eyes looking into the other man's for a moment before he turns his focus town towards the pieces laid out in front of them. "Whenever you are ready," he says. After the other man hits the clock to start the game, Iolaus starts out with a Queen's Gambit. "Did the weather lure you? Or were you just itching for chess?" Lucien answers Iolaus's move promptly, barely seeming to look at the board; his eyes are fixed on Iolaus's face, thoughtful. "Most people do not dress up for it." Iolaus responds with a move of his own after a moment's consideration. "No, I had a meeting that was a few blocks away from here, and I decided to drop in on my way back towards the subway. That was, admittedly, a few hours ago." his eyes flick up from the pieces to the other man's face, meeting Lucien's eyes with his own. He gives the other man a considering look, measuring, curious. Again, Lucien answers promptly with only a brief flick of glance down to Iolaus's move, hitting the timer quick and returning to his study of the man's face. "How did your meeting go? It is good you did not have to return to work promptly. This weather is worth enjoying." "It is." Iolaus says, a touch of puzzlement in his voice as he watches the instantaneous move. His hand hesitates briefly, then he makes another move. "It went... well, actually. A start of a much longer conversation, but not getting walked out on the first minute of my proposal is always a good thing." This time, Lucien's eyes do drop, lingering on Iolaus's. Faintly, his lips twitch. "That is, certainly, a benefit, when making proposals. You were well received, then? What were you proposing?" He does not move as quickly as before, mostly by virtue of the fact that he is turning, to glance towards the playground again. /Then/ he moves, tapping at the timer immediately after. "Well received is, perhaps, too strong. I was not thrown out, which I count as a plus." Iolaus says, eyes focused down on the chess pieces. He pauses to consider, hand drifting above the pieces for a moment before he picks one up and replaces it, decisively. "I was fundraising for a clinic I am trying to gather together to open." he says, looking back up at Lucien. "Not kicked out. You have a very low bar for success." Lucien knocks Iolaus's just-moved piece neatly out of its space, replacing it with his own. He is not decisive in his movements, an almost lackadaisical languor to it now as he taps at the timer. "A clinic. Ambitious. How is that going?" "A clinic for mutants," Iolaus counters, taking one of Lucien's pieces with a pawn in an even trade. "How do you imagine it is going?" he says, a bemused expression on his face. "Considering the number of meetings I have been kicked out of, I am keeping the bar of my success very low." "I imagine it is going terribly," Lucien replies, ignoring the pawn to move another piece forward, "and that in future it will go equally terribly. But succeed, eventually. For what measure you can call opening a clinic for mutants a success. Have you been watching the news? They are champing at the bit to lock mutants all /up/. If you are not bombed, perhaps you will simply lack for clientele." He glances away from the board, back towards the playground again, with a small frown that vanishes as he looks once more to Iolaus. "It is a struggle, indeed." Iolaus says, evenly, making another move himself. "But a worthwhile one, I believe. Politics and discrimination have no place in the medical treatment of human beings, and if there is anything I can do to keep them separate, I will do so." he shrugs. "I can only hope that I will, some time, succeed." "That," Lucien says dryly, neatly knocking another of Iolaus's pieces out of the way, "is quite a large if. Politics and discrimination /should/ have no place in the medical treatment, and yet." He taps the timer, not seeming to care about the delay between moving and hitting it. "The medical field /and/ the political have overlap, currently, in forming arguments that mutants are, in fact, not human beings." "Which is utter absurdity." Iolaus says, pausing for a moment before he ignores Lucien's move and pushes a knight forward. Timer. "And that is my professional opinion both as a doctor and as a geneticist. They are human beings. The link between homo sapiens sapiens and homo sapiens superior is only a variant of one gene. People with Downs Syndrome would have to be considered equally non-human." he says, with a shake of his head. Lucien takes the knight, too. He glances down at the board pensively, and then hits the timer. "-- There have been times in history when they have," he murmurs. "Absurd all depends on where you are standing, I suppose. Less absurd when the mainstream is pushing for it in the government. It puts /you/ on the radical fringes." "That is the wonderful thing about truth," Iolaus says, capturing the piece that took his knight and hitting the timer. His eyes look up into the other man's face, and they are filled with passion, with determination. "Truth does not care who is in the main stream, or who is in the government. Truth is, even if no one believes it." "For some views, perhaps. There is little practical weight to a truth nobody believes, though." Lucien rests his hands on the edge of the board, watching Iolaus rather than the game. "Consensus reality holds more weight than whatever /objective/ might mean, if it is the one entire societies operate by." His gaze finally drops, to ignore the most recent capture and move a new piece instead. "Check," he says, quiet. "I am not saying you are wrong," Iolaus says, glancing down at the board only for a moment before he returns his attention to the other man. His voice quiets as he continues, "Nor am I saying that I will be successful. The clinic I hope to open may never see its doors open, or they may be closed again by a bomb not long after. I am satisfied, however, that I will be on the right side of history, and that I maintained humanity even if it has fallen all around me." Lucien exhales quietly; it might be derision or it might be a laugh, his composed features make it hard to tell. "You dream big," he murmurs. "History does often remember those who die young and foolish as martyrs to their causes." At this, Iolaus breaks into a smile, moving a piece carefully in front of his king. "Perhaps I do. I have always been an idealist." he says, eyes sparkling. He looks over the other man's face, shrugging his shoulders, once. "But a realist, too. I know that what I am trying to do is crazy, and risky, and dangerous." He spreads his hands out in a shrugging gesture. "So be it." "Does acknowledging that and doing it anyway make you brave or just foolhardy?" Lucien is starting to reach for a piece, but there are /footsteps/ coming towards him, from the direction of the playground, a small child in denim overalls and a blue sweater pounding towards the chess table, bowl-cut brown hair flopping with each step. Small arms are /thrown/ around Lucien from behind, an excited stream of French chattered cheerfully. The atmosphere around them shifts, quietly more cheery, as well. Lucien detangles one of his arms from the hug to move again. "Check," is English, the rest of what he says as he tucks an arm around the child is not. "It shall certainly be interesting to watch, whatever it is." "Likely foolhardy," Iolaus adds, looking over to the small child with a widening smile. "Hello." he greets, merrily. He glances down at his board and frowns, slightly. "It seems you likely do not have much to fear after all." he comments, as he moves his king, moving it out of the way of the trap. He looks up, curiously, watching the interplay with the two with a warm, friendly smile. "Check," Lucien says, as he moves his piece again. "There is always plenty to fear," he adds, in quieter murmur. "Though not always from the expected quarters. Come," this is to the child, shifting in his seat and patting his lap. "You can help me end this game." "Who're you?" is the cheerful question, as the child climbs into Lucien's lap. "Are you losing? I always lose." "I'm Iolaus." The aforementioned says, extending his hand carefully over the pieces to offer it to the young one. "And yes, I am losing. Not quite lost yet, but..." he gives her a wry smile as he flicks his attention up to Lucien for a moment. He shrugs his shoulders. "I have not lost yet. There is still hope." "/I'm/ Sera. Are you hopeful? You should move this piece," she points at a bishop before taking Iolaus's hand, "that's my favourite one." "This," Lucien murmurs, amused, "is why you lose. That may be your favourite, but is it the best to move right now?" Sera frowns at the board, leaning forward to prop her elbows on the stone and look at it /very intently/. "No," she says eventually, though she doesn't sound /quite/ certain. Iolaus shakes Sera's hand gently, with just a hint of firmness about it, before he retrieves his hand back to his side of the table. His smile widens as he watches the two, eyes sparkling as he watches the interplay. The happiness and interest that has been settled easily into his chest rises, twin ribbons of a very wholesome desire and longing working its way in as the emotions grow stronger. "Correct. What is the right piece to move, if not the bishop, then?" Sera starts to point to another piece, indicating that it should take /Lucien's/ bishop, but he taps her hand with a finger. "His king is in check," he reminds her quietly. She bites her lip, and eventually nudges, more correctly, where Iolaus's rook can take Lucien's threatening one. Lucien rests his chin atop her head, watching the board. Sera smiles at this apparent approval, the cheer in the air growing. "We played mulch," she informs him then. "/And/ crack the whip. /I/ fell over /three/ times," she sounds proud of this, lifting her knee to show Lucien where her jeans have been torn and knee scraped up beneath, "but I made five other people fall." Decision made, the chess game is apparently no longer interesting. Iolaus glances at the scrape for a moment, before back to the chess board. He reaches over and executes the exact move she recommended, taking Lucien's rook with his own. "That's an accomplishment." he says, attention split between Sera and her chair. "It's always good to make sure that they fall more than you do." It's a small scrape, red and gravel-peppered, its flecks of blood already dried. Sera clearly considers it a /grand/ accomplishment. She beams as Iolaus takes her suggestion, and settles in against Lucien's chest as he curls an arm lazily around her. He does not beam, but presses his lips together, thin, with a slight frown. He moves, and hits the timer. "A decent philosophy on the playground and off," he murmurs, wryly looking at his board. Iolaus mounts a counter-attack with a bishop and pawn, moving the bishop across the board to threaten - but not yet - check Lucien's king. His smile is cheery, and his gaze flickers over the other man's face. "I have to agree there, as well." he says. Lucien's lips press together, for a moment. But then he quirks a slight smile, castling his king to safety. "And how will you do that, then?" His eyebrows raise. "You keep standing up." Iolaus says, eyes examining the other man's face with a tilting smile before he flicks his attention back to the board. He redoubles the attack with his remaining knight, crossing in to capture a pawn in front of the king from behind the safety of his bishop. "No matter how many times you fall, you stand up. Eventually, the numbers will turn in your favor." "Eventually. Or you will fall, one too many times to get back up." Lucien takes the bishop, unhesitant. "Check. We can only hope for the former." Sera is waging a battle on the sidelines, having taken a captured knight and captured pawn and executing a rather intense fight with them. Complete with laser noises. Iolaus gives Sera an affectionate look as moves his king out of the vulnerable position, drumming his fingertips once against the surface of the table. "Perhaps. I would be a poor sort of fighter if I did that, though." he says, checking the clock, then looking up at Lucien's face. "I have an offensive strategy as well as a defensive one." "Mmm. There is something to be said for taking your time to build up your resources," Lucien allows, neatly shifting his knight forward to take Iolaus's queen. "But, also, something to be said for unrolling your offensive before your opponent has time to build /theirs/. Check. And mate." "Can I move the bishop now?" Sera wants to know. Iolaus smiles and leans back in his seat, nodding. His eyes study the table for a moment before he looks up at the other man and tips his king forward. "A good game," he says, extending his hand for the other man to shake with a smile. "Well-won." he glances to Sera, the smile spreading wider on his lips. "Now you can move the bishop all you want." The bishop soon joins in the battle. It's a fierce one, that involves now both lasers and a lot of roaring. Lucien keeps an arm curled around Sera, his other extending to clasp Iolaus's firmly. His touch comes with a soft swell of happiness, subtly trickling warm and pleasurable into Iolaus's mind. "Good game," he agrees, quiet. "Perhaps next time it will be yours. Sera, we should go." "Can I keep this?" She is holding the bishop. "Tch. That is Iolaus's. We have some at home." Lucien nudges the bishop back to the table. Iolaus' own mood is happy and affectionate - contented, even. "Perhaps next time it will." he says, with a nod of his head and a smile at the other man that only grows as he looks to Sera. "Tell you what," he says, looking briefly at Lucien's face. "Next time, you and I can play a game, if you would like. Bishops, pawns and kings only." he says, with a bright smile at Sera. Sera beams at this. "'kay!" she chirps, brightly, sliding down off of Lucien's lap and already tugging at his hand. "Can we get dinner?" Lucien's lips twitch, as he neatly sets his captured pieces back on Iolaus's side of the board. "I am making dinner." He tilts his head in a nod to Iolaus, getting to his feet. "Thank you for the game," he says, polite, "and good luck with your martyrdom." Lucien nods, Sera waves. Lucien gives the doctor one last long look, but then he and the girl continue away, Sera's chattering returning to a cheerful stream of French until it fades off into the distance. Iolaus watches the two of them leave for a few moments after they turn before he shakes his head once, sharply, returning his attention to packing the rest of the pieces in their respective homes and closing the case with a soft snap of latches.