ArchivedLogs:Rebelling -- Against What?

Rebelling -- Against What?
Dramatis Personae Doug, Jan	2013-03-20 Doug meets a snarky teenager. Imagine.
Location <NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side
Tucked down an alley, this out of the way coffeeshop is easy to miss if you don't know what you're looking for. Unassuming from the outside, its inside makes up for it -- spacious, with abundant seating and plenty of plush couches and cosy armchairs along the room's edges. The coffee is good, the prices are cheap, and there is a definitive alternative vibe to the room, from the music they play to the art that hangs on the walls. The real draw to this place, though, stems from its client base -- one of the very few businesses in the city that is welcoming to mutants, Evolve has become widely popular as a hangout with that crowd, and it is quite common to see them among clientele and employees both. At night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits over the coffeehouse. Wednesday night is not generally a heavy night at Evolve, as far as foot traffic goes. But it's busy enough that the tables are full -- mostly with college students back from break and trying desperately to re-cram knowledge into their brains. There are a number of laptops visible, all being utilized either by flying fingers or...other methods, like the girl whose eyes glow as her laptop keys depress seemingly on their own. Doug's laptop is being used the old-fashioned way, which means that Doug's fingers are flying over the keyboard. Dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a picture of a spaceship in a mason jar on the chest, he stares almost blankly at the screen through the lenses of his black-framed glasses. A cup of coffee that's still warm enough for steam to be rising rests next to a plastic bag that reads 'Midtown Comics'. Doug might not be trying to cram knowledge. He might just be here. Janurary Lily Carter is not particularly concerned with her homework. This is partially because she is not in college but instead in highschool, partially because she has issues with authority (especially pointless, pureile authority) - but mostly because she has more important work to do, like making Grumpy Cat pictures and uploading them to the internet between bouts of trolling internet message boards and forums. She is currently dressed in a school uniform - she attends catholic school; but the uniform is as black and dark in color as she can get away with. Beside her is black coffee. No sugar, no fancy flavors - just dark, bitter coffee, for a 15 year old girl. "Noone loves you the other 364 days of the year, either." she mutters to the screen absentmindedly. She is, obviously, also working on a laptop. Doug /does/ use sugar in his coffee, and his is currently undoctored, as he discovers when he breaks his reverie to take a sip from his own cup. Grimacing, he reaches for the (empty) sugar rack on the table and actually /growls/ in frustration. He glances around, looking at nearby tables until he spies one with a fairly full caddy, and leans in that direction. "Hey, Hogwarts," he calls, making a beckoning gesture with his fingers. "You using any of that sugar?" Jan continues typing on the computer for a moment, before pausing, and slowly turning to look at Doug. She does not glare. Neither does she smile. Her look is one of intense skepticism. "Are you using that mason jar?" She looks pointedly at his t-shirt, but makes no attempt to explain the question before turning back to her computer. She doesn't try to provide a direct answer, but does nudge the sugar in his direction slightly. Doug stares at the younger girl, his brow furrowing lightly. "Wow. Slytherin all the way, huh?" He reaches over then, to grab at the sugar, dragging it his direction. "Thanks. I'll leave you to your lolcats and Farmville-ing." He eases back, pulling three packages from the caddy and shaking them with probably a bit more noise than is necessary. That he keeps glancing in the girl's direction is probably just coincidence. Until he speaks. "What is with that outfit?" he asks, turning his head to regard Jan fully. "Do you go to Our Lady of Morticia Addams High School or what?" Jan is trying very hard to turn a rational philosophical discourse into petty bickering. It is, however, difficult to find just the right question to upset philosophers without seeming like an obvious troll when you are being interruped. Without missing a beat, or turning her head away from the screen she asks in response, "Do you spend all your time in comic shops, or is that just where you go to meet girls?" Deciding the boy is likely to prove a distraction, she decides to give up on the trolling, and alt-tabs back to an image of grumpy cat. She tries to suppress a giggle, and largely succeeds. She doesn't bother to grace Doug with an 'Obviously Not', though she thinks it. Doug grins at the question, tearing open the packets and dumping them in his coffee. "Hah. Good one." His tone doesn't quite match his grin, and he grabs the straw from his saucer and stirs. "I don't go anywhere to meet girls," he says, popping the straw in his mouth and sucking it clean. "For the record." The straw stays in his mouth, and he chews it lightly as he looks at the girl carefully. "Where's the rest of your group, Madeline? Or are you a /rebel/?" There's a teasing note in the question, and the blonde crinkles his eyes in amusement. "I don't have a group, I'm not a loner, and I have no problem with comic shops. Anyone familiar with reality can explain why rampant escapism is preferrable." She takes a sip of her coffee, and resumes looking at her laptop screen. After a long moment, she adds, "Hogwarts comment was pretty good." "I don't know that it's escapism that's the reason I read comics," Doug says, wrinkling his nose. "I mean, I guess it is, but no more than any other fiction. It's just more visual." He purses his lips, lifting his cup of coffee and somehow drinking around the straw in his mouith. "You're sitting there alone," he says. "And you're not exactly Susy Sunshine in that outfit." He leans back in his chair hooking one toe around a leg. "So, I'm going to stick with 'loner' for now. At least until I learn your gang name." He lifts his cup at the quasi-compliment, and nods. "I do what I can." Jan glances towards Doug. "Most comics involve painfully large breasted women and young men with superpowers that let them change the world." she says, taking another sip of her coffee. "Harry Potter can cast magic spells. I'll let you carefully consider which is more escapist." She goes back to playing with her computer. "Are you wearing your clothes because you enjoy them, or to please society?" "I don't think the two translate," Doug says, tilting his head thoughtfully. "I mean, one is /magic/, and the other is...an inevitability, just someone's idea of what that inevitability will look like." He lifts a shoulder. "Not that I'm expecting Superman or Batman to come swooping in and save the day," he says, waving a hand. "But comics are closer to reality than reading about Muggles and house elves." The question gets a snort, and the blonde lowers his cup, resting it on the table. "A bit of both, I guess. I wear clothes that I enjoy that I know are acceptable to the majority of the public." He lifts his eyebrows. "But I'm not /knocking/ your outfit. I'm just observing that it does not scream 'I am a friendly person.'" He grins. "But that might be what you're going for. So, again. Not knocking it." "I'm not friendly, I bite." Jan says. "But as long as you arn't knocking my outfit, I guess its fine. I'm Jan. I attend a catholic school. This is as close as I can get to subverting the dress code within the primitive boundries written up by "You look like you bite," Doug says, nodding. "Although, I know a couple of people who could give you a run for your money in that department." He absorbs the introduction with an amused blink, and he leans forward. "Well. That is quite the statement," he drawls. "Do you protest other boundaries, too, or are you just a fashion guerilla?" He doesn't wait for an answer, pressing a hand to his chest. "I'm Doug. I am a freshman at Columbia." He might be mocking the straightforward delivery, as his deadpan seems a bit amused. "I wear this because it is comfortable, and states my love of the show Firefly and tells fellow geeks at a glance that I am One of Them." He leans back. "Would you like to know more? Press 'continue'." Yeah. Definitely teasing. "Can I press control-alt-delete?" Jan asks. "Depends on the boundry. Mindless rebellion is as pureile as mindless obedience." Doug lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "Suit yourself. Backing out now will result in the loss of unsaved data." He turns back to his laptop, continuing to talk even as he types. Pages are flying across his screen, blinking in rapid succession. "So what are you rebelling against? Mindless beaurecracy, or the whole of the religion-based educational system?" "Neither deserves accolades in particular." Jan says. "But a religion-based educational system taught by underpaid staff who either do not take their own faith seriously or are so dedicated to it as to give it unquestioning obedience at the cost of their own intellect is not an effective means to instill moral values, though I doubt public school is better. I'd rather be homeschooled, but if wishes were horses, we'd have more seriel killers in congress." Doug's mouth quirks into a half-grin. "Homeschooled as in your parents are qualified to give you instruction, or homeschooled as in you're in charge of your education?" He lifts his eyebrows. "There's private school," he says. "There's a couple just outside the city, and a couple in it. If you're going to our Lady of Perpetual Stick Up Her Ass, I can't imagine the cost being that much more for private schooling." "Anyone I consider qualified to give me education would have to give me some control over it, or I wouldn't consider them qualified." Jan says. "My English teacher spent all of last week teaching Romeo and Juliet without ever mentioning a single sexual innuendo, which form the bulk of the humor of the work. Either she is unaware of this and a fool, or she is aware of it and a coward for not teaching it." She glances at her laptop, frowning. "And its almost my curfew. Woe to the human race." She shuts the laptop and takes another drink of her coffee. "You go to a Catholic school," Doug points out, polishing off his coffee with a grimace for the heat on his tongue. "Did you really expect them to talk about sexual innuendo? The Church hasn't caught up to Shakespeare's time, so you can't expect them to /get/ it." He grins, and slaps his laptop shut as he stands, pulling a denim jacket for the back of his chair. "Somehow, I don't get the idea that you're really big on abiding by curfews," he notes, picking up his laptop and putting it in his bag. "But I wish you luck in getting home, if you do. Subway's stalled." He waggles his fingers. "It was okay meeting you, Jan. Next time, maybe you'll even smile." He slings his bag over his shoulder, and moves towards the door. "See you around!" And with that, he's gone, his table almost immediately claimed by another. It's like he wasn't even there.