ArchivedLogs:Uncomfortable

Uncomfortable
Dramatis Personae Ash, Jack
In Absentia	2015-10-12 "Wrong idea?" -- "Oh."
Location <NYC> Harbor Commons - Courtyard - Lower East Side
This courtyard is the lush central hub of the surrounding Harbor Commons, bound in on three sides by rows of duplexes and triplexes, cutting upward at the sky with the sharp thrift of a minimalist's style, neat lines and bountiful windows, boldened with accents in wood towards the upper stories, stone towards the base, the whole of the compound sealed in by a low stoneworked wall that opens entrance gates to the streets beyond at its two far corners, smaller gates at building back doors. The fourth side of the courtyard is open to the East River, the ground forming a slight decline, controlled on one side by micro-retaining walls to form wide steps where picnic tables sit beneath the nominative shelter of a trio of dogwood trees, accessible by ramp. The other side is allowed to slope at its natural angle, a wide open yard space, until its cut off at the river's edge, where a massive pair of oak trees stand, a staircase leading away up one of their thick trunks. The yard itself is carpeted in an organic flow of emerald grass swirled through with wending channels of smooth-paved cement walkways, flowing naturally away from the building's front entrances, where some are arced by trellis, some flanked by hosta plants, fern and lilies, a few laid in gentle switch-backing ramps for wheelchair access, before forking off at matching angles to sites of small garden installments. Bird feeders and baths suspended from the necks of small lamp posts, a rock-lined koi pond, a sleek gazebo tucked to one side in simplistic varnished wood, its southern side overgrown with a mass of thriving grapevine and a caged-in barbecue pit under its sheltering roof. A play area and proper garden are within sight off another branch, until finally all paths spiral in like wheel spokes to a shared common house at the center of all traffic flow. As it is a very warm and lovely day, Ash has chosen not to eat dinner inside. He has a few plastic containers with him as he makes his way out to the gazebo, settling in for dinner with a view as the sun starts to set. He is wearing a brown sweatshirt over a pair of mostly clean jeans. He's removed his shoes and seems to have covered his feet in a reddish earth that isn't found around the area. He as he starts to remove the lids from his food, it becomes obvious that he has more than one serving, no matter the size of his appetite. He doesn't seem to be looking for anyone though. He just sits and enjoys the view. With classes for the day finished, Jack's ventured into the city and specifically to the Commons. He called ahead to ask to meet up with Ash and is just arriving. Dressed in some old jeans with a couple grass stains on them, a Jets logo t-shirt, and a light hoodie, he makes his way towards th gazebo after being directed towards it. Hood up, he perks up when he spots Ash up ahead and lifts an empty sleeve to wave. "Hey, Ash. How's it going?" "Hey, Jack," Ash offers a little smile and returns the wave before taking another bite of a rolled up tortilla from one of the containers. He chews quietly and gestures to one of the benches near him, his eyes returning to the water of the East River. "It's going okay. How about you? Got good classes this semester?" Settling onto the bench he's been directed to, Jack offers an unseen smile. "I'm doing alright," he says. The question about classes gets him taking a breath and offering a light chuckle. "Some good, some bad. I'm enjoying this Computer Science class I'm in. Starting to feel like I'm not way behind on tech anymore. Pretty sure I'm not doing as well in chemistry though," he admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks Ash over a few moments before making a little curious noise. "Where did that red stuff on your feet come from?" "I bought some red clay -- not modeling clay, but earthy clay. It's full of iron oxides, makes it this color." Ash picks up a container and offers it to Jack. "I miss the clays I had back home and it was just easier to buy some of the red clay." His toes stretch and splay before relaxing. "Anyway -- was there anything in particular you wanted to talk about? I mean, you called to be sure I'd be around." "That's pretty cool. How the iron makes it red," Jack remarks. "Is modeling clay a lot different from the earthy stuff?" he asks, peeking into the container and then picking up one of the tortillas. "Thanks," he chimes. There's a pause at the question though, Jack fidgeting a little. He's been nervous, especially after talking to Liv the other night. "Yeah, I did. Um...do you know about the Art Fights that Tag and Profes- I mean Jax do?" "Eh, it depends. A lot of time, people that are not actively throwing pottery use a polymer or plastilina clay. It's oil based and stays soft, which means it can be reworked over and over - it's just not the same to me." Ash sets down his container and turns to look at Jack's empty hood. "Um, a little bit. I mean, I guess I know that they do them and sometimes there are left over arts to see. Why do you ask?" "So its more...artificial? Like they add oil?" Jack's curious. The bench creaks a little as Jack shifts his weight. "Well, I was umm..." he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. "I was wondering if you'd like to go see one sometime. With me...y'know...um...on a date?" he asks, a few stray leaves in the area blown away by a little nervous telekinetic breeze. The lights of the city play across the river, dancing with the rippling surface. Ash sighs and shakes his head. "I can't do that, Jack. Every time we go out and do something, I worry that you're getting the wrong idea. Now... dates - Jack, I can't. You're still in high school. I am just not comfortable with that." He exhales heavily and moves to the edge of his seat when the lights go out. He gets to his feet and looks around confused, peeking past the apartment buildings to see how far out the street lights have diminished. Jack remains nervous right up until Ash answers. The answer gets his shoulders slumping slightly. "Wrong idea?" he asks, the confused question getting out before he can stop himself. He falls quiet quickly though, eyes dropping to the gazebo floor. "Oh," he replies when Ash mentions him still being in school and Jack gives himself a little mental kick. And then the lights are going out and the invisible mutant looks up. "What the...that can't be good," he says quietly, getting up as well. "It's ... probably nothing." Ash scowls at the darkness of the city. He abandons his food and steps out of the gazebo and looks to the heavens for more natural light. "You need a candle or a flashlight or something?" He doesn't seem to mind the darkness though, hands slipping into his pockets. "At least it's not super hot or super cold..." "I hope so. Power outages mess with people enough by themselves..." Jack trails off, biting his lip. He follows a little more carefully, needing to adjust to the new darkness. "I'm good for now...probably need a little light when I head back though," he replies after a little thought. The dark doesn't bother him much but he'd rather have some light to help avoid bumping into or tripping over anything. "It probably won't last that long. And the way things go around here, we'll probably have a camp fire and party of some sort. Plus, you have a teacher here, so I'm sure he'll be able to help you out if you need it when the time comes." He smiles a little and watches as the sky starts to erupt in more and more visible stars. "Heck, he is light himself half of the time. Not that he loves this right now. I should start on the camp fire -- in case this goes long." He wanders over to slowly make his way to the wood pile. "Yeah, Professor Holland can help. Maybe Shane too if he's here," Jack replies. He's quiet as the stars start becoming more visible, just appreciating the view and focusing on not thinking about the conversation he just had with Ash. At least not right this second. "Oh, need a hand?" he asks, glancing towards the wood pile and then Ash. "I'm good. Why don't you go eat," Ash gestures with a split log over to the food he brought out. "I'll have a fire going in a little bit." Nodding, Jack makes sure his hood is up and slips his hands into his pockets. "Alright...thanks," he says, glancing over across the river again. He shifts awkwardly for a moment before moving to sit back down and eat a little bit more.