Logs:Breezy

Breezy
Dramatis Personae Dusk, Sarah
In Absentia	2020-07-23 "It was like you were art."
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 spring-like respite from summer has long ended, and heat and humidity have returned with vacation energy to spare. While breezes throughout the day had kept Outside bearable, they've died down as the sun sinks lower toward the horizon and the light begins to dim. Gone with it are most of the park patrons, the swampy heat rising from the ground driving them off. With most of her potential clientele disappearing, Sarah has packed up and is leaving herself. Dressed in a heather gray croptop that says 'COOKIE BAKING CREW' in collegiate font, high-waisted black shorts, and purple combat boots, Sarah is heading for the Lofts at as quick of a pace as she can with her wagon loaded down. It carries her tools for the day: a collapsed table, a pop-up canopy that is popped-down and packed into a bag, a small blue cooler that audibly sloshes with ice water, a beat up cardboard box that holds sketchbooks and pencil bags. Considering all of this, her quick pace is... not very quick! But the intent is there. There is a shadow that passes overhead, briefly. Then circles back, grows larger and longer as Dusk drops down -- stirring up a brief gust of wind -- to drop to a surprisingly light landing several feet from Sarah. There's a moment, as he circles and lands, stands back up, where his wings are stretched to their full span, vast and wide and colorful in myriad shades of blue that seem to shift constantly as he moves, little flashes of silver painted beneath the soft, velvety fuzz such that they only show up from certain angles, calling to mind schools of fish darting through the water. They fold back in as he settles, pulling neatly back behind his shoulders. His attire is bland otherwise, khaki cargo shorts and a blue and white v-neck tee, dark glasses secured to his head with a black strap. He glances across the length of the park towards the apartment building in the distance. "I know it's not too much farther, but you want a hand with that? Seems -- weighed down." Sarah comes to an abrupt stop when the shadow covers her, the wagon nearly running into the back of her heels before its stopped by its own weight. Shielding her eyes as she looks up, by the time Dusk lands in front of her and turns around, she's wide-eyed with awe, mouth open in an astonished 'o'. "Whoa," she breathes. The question is enough to snap her out of it, hand dropping back to her side. "Oh! I mean, hi!" she greets, flustered. "I mean—if it's not a problem? It is kinda heavy." "Sup." A crooked smile slips across Dusk's face, his chin tipping up at Sarah's flustered greeting. "Promise. It's not a problem." He steps in closer, reaching to pick up the handle of the wagon. "S'a lotta gear. Hope it led to a productive day. Anyone actually out here buying in this --" One long thumbclaw flicks idly behind himself. "Sauna?" "Thank you," Sarah replies, cheeks flushing as she relinquishes the handle and edges over to give Dusk some space. "It was going okay when the wind was up. That kept the air circulating, you know? Once that died down though..." She gives a thumbs down and blows a small raspberry. Gives an even smaller embarrassed laugh after and shoves her hands in her pockets. "It must be nice, being able to fly. You can make your own breeze." Dusk laughs, head shaking as he starts to pull the wagon again. One of his wings unfolds just slightly, waving back and forth to fan a small breeze toward Sarah. "It is nice being able to fly," he agrees, "but mostly -- for different reasons. These are better at keeping other people cool than me, anyway. Does save me a lot of bus money when the weather's not bad, though." Sarah sighs in relief, some tension leeching from her shoulders while she angles her head down to let the breeze run over the back of her neck. "Thanks," she repeats, even more earnestly. After a moment, she looks back to watch Dusk's wing, her steps slowing and swaying some without the visual information of what is in front of her. "The... design? You have on them is really pretty. Is it some kind of body paint?" "Not a problem. Been helping Ryan move this past week so I'm just in the hauling things groove anyway." Dusk's head turns when Sarah slows. His smile is quick; he extends the wing just a little farther, the design on it rippling as it waves. "Isn't it amazing? It's not paint. You met Tag? He does really fantastic body art. Well, he does really fantastic art, period, and sometimes, it's on people." "Oh!" Eyes widening, Sarah turns to fully face Dusk's wing, falling into backwards step without much of a stumble. "Yeah, I know Tag from, like, around? But I don't know him. You know?" Glancing over her shoulder to make sure the path ahead—behind?—is clear, she looks back to the presented art with curious eyes. "It is fantastic art. When you landed and your wings were all..." She raises her hands, fingers spread wide. "It was like you were art." "Yeah! I mean, I'm sort of just the canvas but, yeah." There's a soft purring thrum underneath Dusk's words, quietly overlapping the actual sounds of his speech. "Like tattoos, except they actually stick on me." He partially folds his wing back in, keeping it just enough extended to continue fanning in Sarah's direction as he starts to walk again. "I am forever in awe of all of you, there's just so much amazing and creative shit people do with. Well, art." "Tattoos don't stick on you?" Sarah repeats, confused. "How does that work?" She blushes fiercely as soon as the question leaves her mouth. "Sorry. I think that was rude. Was that rude?" Turning back around to fall in step again, a surprised squeak escapes her. She smiles, sheepish, and rubs at the back of her neck. "I don't know if I've done anything that brings awe to mind. And I think art can be… so many different things than people think of! As long as you are making something in a way that makes you happy. Bonus points if you make other people happy." She lets her hand drop, and tucks both into her pockets with a shrug. "I don't really see a difference in cooking food and drawing, that way. Both take care of people, one is just more noticeable than the other." "I get the tattoo and then it fades away." Dusk's explanation is maybe not the most helpful. He lifts one wing in a small shrug. "As it so happens, I can't cook for shit either." His quirk of smile is brief. "I just engineer it carefully so I'm always surrounded by people who can." He pauses when they actually reach the street, almost continuing out into the intersection against the red light but hovering back on the curb as a taxi comes zooming by. "Mmm." He folds his wing back in against his back, tips his head up to watch the light. "I guess I see your point, but. Starvation's a bitch. Nobody ever died from a lack of drawing." "Oh. Yeah." Letting out a deprecating huff at herself, Sarah lightly kicks at the sidewalk as the timer on the crosswalk starts to tick down. "I guess that was kind of fantastical of me, huh? I can do that." She looks both ways before starting across, once the little man says walk. Best to be safe! "Thanks again for the help. I can get it from here, and call and bother my sister about it if I can't. Can I draw a portrait of you or something as payment?" "Please." Dusk shakes his head, starting across the street when the light changes and turning the wagon back over to Sarah on the opposite side. "You do not need to pay me for bringing a wagon across the park. Elevators were working when I left so it should be aiite." He reaches out with one wing, bumping it lightly against Sarah's shoulder. This is all the farewell he offers before moving away, wings spreading and carrying him back into the air with a powerful downbeat.