Logs:Caffeine High

Caffeine High
Dramatis Personae Leonidas. Cyan
In Absentia Gaetan, Lucien	2024-12-30 Leonidas makes poor life decisions at Evolve
Location Evolve
<NYC> Evolve Cafe - Lower East Side Spacious and open, this coffeeshop has a somewhat industrial feel to it, grey resin floors below and exposed-beam ceilings that have been painted up in a dancing swirl of abstract whorls and starbursts, a riot of colour splashed against a white background. The walls alternate between brick and cheerfully lime-green painted wood that extends to the paneling beneath the brushed-steel countertops. There's an abundance of light, though rather than windows (which are scarce) it comes from plentiful hanging steel lamps. The walls here are home to artwork available for sale; though the roster of prints and paintings and drawings and photographs changes on a regular basis it has one thing in common -- all the artists displayed are mutants. The seating spaced around the room is spread out enough to keep the room from feeling cluttered. Black chairs, square black tables that mostly seat two or four though they're frequently pushed around and rearranged to make space for larger parties. In the back corner of the room is more comfortable seating, a few large black-corduroy sofas and armchairs with wide tables between them. There's a shelf of card and board games back here available for customers to sit and play. The chalkboard menus hanging behind the counter change frequently, always home to a wide variety of drinks (with an impressive roster of fair-trade coffees and teas largely featured) though their sandwiches and wraps and soups and snacks of the day change often. An often-changing variety of baked goods sit behind the display case at the counter halfway back in the room, and the opposite side of the counter holds a small selection of homemade ice creams. A pair of single-user bathrooms flanks the stairway in back of the cafe; at night, the thump of music can be heard from above, coming from the adjoining nightclub of the same name that sits up the stairs above the coffeehouse. It’s early morning hours, and outside on the (unusually sunny for the season) patio, Cyan has found himself a seat. A little out of the way from anyone else, with his back against the wall and his feet outstretched he could easily be mistaken for a pile of discarded laundry having a cup of coffee. His hair is doing its best to defy gravity, having pushed the hood of his oversized black hoodie half-way back on his head. He’s wearing black sweat-pants, again several sizes too big for him, and his heavy combat boots are only partially on his feet in a way that makes it easy for him to slip them back on fully, but just leaves him a little room to wriggle his toes. On his hands he’s wearing a pair of golden sequined gloves with the word “Snack” written on the back of the hand in black velvet. Every now and then a flash of green-blue colour streaks over the uncovered parts of his face, a stark contrast to his otherwise rather grey skin. And he’s reading a book, a tattered old analog one with frayed edges and enough coffee stains to make it look intentionally stained. On the cover it’s written in bold yellow lettering: > “Disastrous Musicals - The True Story of New York’s Short Most Short Lived Musicals and Why They Deserved Better” By Dr. Emmanuel Griby (PhD) For just the briefest moment the patio goes dark as a mountain of a man passes by Cyan, heading to find an out of the way place to stand with his coffee. Leonidas has grown his hair out and is currently sporting an impressively permed mullet, and an equally impressive full beard. He's dressed in a red and black flannel button down with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, a pair of khakis held up with a brown leather belt, and a worn pair of old work boots. As he takes a sip of his coffee he spares the other man a side-eye and upon noticing the book gives an appreciative nod, before rumbling out "The chapter on Dance of The Vampires is pretty great. They really butchered that one. I hear the original German version is pretty good, but I haven't gotten around to watching it yet." For just a moment Cyan looks up, then back at his book, then up again, as if he can’t quite believe his own eyes. “I haven’t gotten that far yet...” He mumbles, his eyes darting back and forth making sure his escape route is still clear. “You know Doctor Griby?” Without looking up again he nods at the other chair at his table, “‘s free if you looking to sit.” "Found a copy at a secondhand shop and figured I'd give it a read. A little unhinged, but not a bad read." Leonidas confirms, tugging his phone from the front pocket of his khakis long enough to check a notification and decide it isn't important. "I appreciate the offer, but I'm too heavy for the chairs. Weigh something like a ton. Doing my best not to break anymore furniture." He grins slightly at that, but it's quickly hidden by his coffee cup. “Oh thank god!” Cyan completely ignores the comment on breaking furniture as his body language turns immensely relieved. “You know, sometimes I wonder if I’m imagining the Doctor existing, like what if I’m actually just dreaming up a large part of my life. You have no idea how relieved I am that someone else has heard of him.” He holds up the book, pointing at the letters spelling out “Doctor Griby”, “this here?” He seems to have completely forgotten exactly how much attention Leonidas seems to be attracting, “‘tis my boss, partially.” "Oh really?" Leonidas cocks an eyebrow. "Honestly I thought it was just a nom de plume. I couldn't find anything about them online, or any other books. Honestly forgot all about it until I saw that copy." He lets out a small amused noise. "And how's that going for you?" “‘tis great,” Cyan shrugs unconvincingly, his eyes again darting around as if looking for something. “Haven’t been weird at all, didn’t have to go around rubbing incense on commando-types for no reason, ain’t questioning my sanity at all.” His fingers are rapidly tapping on the table as he sits up more straight, pushing his feet properly into his boots. “No, but seriously dude, any chance you could grab a more solid chair somewhere or something, you’re making me real nervous standing around like that,” he takes a moment to think before adding “no offense, but you’ve got the aura of a tall person.” "Yeah, I tend to do that to people." Despite his earlier words Leonidas easily scoops up a heavy looking chair with his free hand and gently sets it down at Cyan's table before depositing himself in it. It doesn't really help. "Tell me about it. Been in New York six years and been to one alternate reality, two mutant prisons, and survived an alien invasion. Believe it or not I just graduated high school, just look how much it's aged me. You get used to the unusual after a while living here, just gotta thug it out." Cyan nods thoughtfully, taking in every word. “I can thug it out, I might not have a tall aura, but I’m tougher than I look.” If he’s saying this as a response to Leonidas or as a way to reassure himself of something is hard to tell. Carefully he puts the book down, unhooks his double-layered facemasks and takes a sip of his coffee. “I shouldn’t be drinking caffeine, it makes me all wired.” He’s gotten to a point where Leonidas' presence, attention inducing as it is, is starting to look like a good thing. No one looks at whoever sits next to a giant after all. "For sure." Leonidas agrees, looking out over the other patrons. "Honestly it just evens me out. Think I might just have the adhd though." He lifts one shoulder in a small shrug. "Best advice I can give you is to make some good friends. People that are dependable when shit goes sideways, because trust me, it will eventually. Things can always get stranger." This garners a small laugh from Cyan, perhaps with a tint of bitterness, before he carefully hooks his masks back on. “So, you into musicals?” he taps the book-title gently with a oh so shiny finger, “just wondering since you’ve read Doctor Griby’s book and all, doesn’t seem like the kind of thing people picks up without a special interest.” "I played the trumpet in school, just kind of stumbled into musicals." Leonidas admits. "I went to highschool with Lucian Tessier's little brother Gaétan. Last I heard he's working on Broadway right now, lucky so-and-so." He doesn't seem particularly bitter about it though, if anything the giant looks pleased for the other teen. "I'm trying law school out myself. We'll see how that goes " “Lucien?” Cyan’s ears perk up a little, “I’ve met him, he’s cool about bugs.” He says this as if it’s the greatest compliment possible. “Is school tough? I mean, law-school is supposed to be, I hear, but like..” there’s a slight twitch in his eyes as he eyes Leonidas up and down. “Okay, pretend I’ve been living under a rock for a long time and know nothing about anything. But like, are regular schools cool with...you know... our types?” "Not particularly, no." Leonidas doesn't seem too bothered by it though. "Taking what courses I can online then I'll transfer over someplace fancier to finish out. Honestly not so bad, the way my dad talked I figured it would be harder. Feel like being in court would be harder than the schooling." “I can imagine...” little lines at the edges of Cyan’s face masks betray a grimace, his fingers tapping rapidly against his coffee cup. Law-school, there was a time that was in his future too, but now it just sounds like something out of a fairy tale. “You-” he stops, catching himself before he asks something that might be upsetting. Sure, the guy seems peaceful enough, and hiding behind Leonidas’ massive frame is kind of comforting, but Cyan is also acutely aware that if Leonidas felt like it he could crush him like an ant. “I wanna study pharmacology, but you know, I don’t think anyone would buy normal drugs from me.” He shrugs, ending the statement with a small ironic laughter. “Can’t afford it anyway, so reading this-” he pokes the book again “-instead, apparently it’s important for understanding the scope of my work.” The last words come out just a little more bitter than he intends. Leonidas lowers his voice conspiratorially, "You got some not normal drugs?" He doesn't make any sudden moves or act too suspiciously, clearly this isn't the first time he's asked a stranger about buying drugs. "All I can get ahold of is weed, and the few places that don't ID me for booze." The sudden shift of subject is something Cyan finds most enthralling, and he too lowers his voice conspiratorially. “Hell yeah, I got the source on The Best Drug around.” He grins, this time it reaches his eyes in a most I-am-up-to-no-good-manner. “It’s a bit awkward to take, but no ID required.” "We talking some weird mutant shit? Hell yeah, I'm willing to try most things once." Leonidas takes a longer pull from his cup now. "What we talking? Like, am I gonna finish this semester's coursework, or am I gonna see the machine elves?" The grin has not left Cyan’s face, “weird mutant shit, lasts somewhere between six and twelve hours depending on dosage and your metabolism,” once again he gives Leonidas a discerning up and down-look, “in your case, we would probably keep it on the lower end. It’ll just make you feel chill if you let me control the dosage and don’t have weird-” he squiggles his fingers in front of his face “-psionic powers that mess with you. Longer exposure and you'll start seeing bunnies. Catch is...” he stops, furrowing his brow, he still hasn't come up with a way to say this part that doesn’t freak people out. “Okay so, these things,” He points at his face masks, “they ain’t for hiding my face or anything, it’s to keep from accidentally dosing people, I am the Drug, you got to kind of...” this is always the awkward part, “-let me contaminate you? Like, brief touch or breathing me in if you prefer.” No one ever prefers that. He sits up a bit straighter, the grin back on his face, “I’m Cyan, Cyan the Drug. Nice to meet ya.”