Logs:Courtship Displays

Courtship Displays
Dramatis Personae Dawson, Polaris	2020-07-20 "To be honest with you, I've never really done serious."
Location <NYC> Riverside Park - Morningside Heights
This long strip of a park hugs the Hudson shoreline from 72nd all to way to 129th Street, popular with jogger, cyclists, and dog walkers in the Upper West Side. Tucked into this wooded, unmanicured section, however, is the somewhat lesser-known Riverside Bird Sanctuary, marked by only a few simple signs at the trailheads. At the heart of the sanctuary one could perhaps forget for a moment that Columbia University is only a stone's throw away, though the drone of traffic on the Hudson Parkway is an ever-present reminder. The blistering heat of the summer day has eased with evening coming on, and a pleasant breeze draws steady and cool off of the water. The sun is gradually sinking in the west, promising to paint the Hudson in a blaze of colors but for now it's just pleasantly warm. There's a picnic blanket--an actual green gingham affair right out of a vintage Better Homes and Gardens magazine--spread out on a grassy overlook at the edge of the wooded sanctuary. No picnic basket, but Polaris's black, much pinned and patched backpack served just as well to transport the cold noodles and maki they brought from one of the hip noodle houses littering the Columbia campus. Polaris herself is seated primly on the blanket, dressed lightly as befits the weather: gauzy pale green cap-sleeved tunic top, purple pleated knee-length skirt, and white fabric dress sandals. Her hair is done up neatly for a change--likely Wendy's handiwork--plaited and meticulously coiled, held in place with a sleek polished steel hair stick with a jade cabochon at the wider end. She's holding a bowl of seaweed salad in one hand and stirring it absently with her chopsticks as she gazes down the hill at the shoreline at the bike path that follows it. "Have you been here a lot?" she asks, tentatively. "I don't mean this exact spot, but--ok, that was probably a dumb question, huh?" Dawson looks much the same as always. Pale khakis, seafoam-green button down, both neatly pressed. His arm is back to its most common coloration of lightly speckled beige and black feathering with a bright flash of yellow underneath. A black binocular case sits near at his hip, currently ignored in favor of the peanut noodles in his hands. "Less often since I left undergrad. But I used to. A lot." A quick flash of smile curls across his face. "This is the first time someone else has asked me here, though. I guess most people are --" A hint of a blush creeps up into his cheeks. His eyes have drifted out toward the shore, too, fixing on a pair of long-necked black birds in the distance. "More careful not to give me an opening in case I don't ever shut up." Polaris's smile is brighter, less inhibited. "Really? I mean--" She breaks off when she looks back at Dawson. "I mean, birds are pretty neat, and you're -- pretty amazing, actually." It's her turn to blush now. "So, if you wanna tell me about birds, that's great." She follows his gaze now. "Like--what're those?" "Oh! I --" Dawson's eyes have gone a little wider, his blush a little deeper. He sets the noodles down, opening up the binoculars instead. Putting them to his eyes and adjusting them as he scoots closer to Polaris. "Here, look. You can see them better with this." He offers the binoculars over, folding one leg beneath himself. "They're double-crested cormorants. Watching them fish is a lot of fun. You can see one of them has that little bit of white on their heads? They only grow the crest during breeding season. Like -- getting dolled up fancy, you know?" Polaris sets her salad aside and leans closer to Dawson, accepting the binoculars and peering through them. "Whoa, cool! So...they're actually only part-time double-crested cormorants, huh?" She lowers the glasses, flashing Dawson a lopsided smile as she plucks at the hem of her tunic. "I guess I kinda get where they're coming from, though I'm not quite that fancy." "Only when they want to impress." Dawson dips his head, curling his fingers around his knee and resting his other hand behind himself. He looks away from the water, eyes sweeping over Polaris. Lingering on the hem of the tunic and then lifting back to her face. "You? You look great. And between you and me," his hand lifts, painted fingers gesturing toward Polaris's carefully braided hair, "I think your crown outshines theirs by far." "Looks like it worked out for that one, anyway." Polaris tips her head in the direction of the water. "Must be looking extra hot by cormorant standards." Her eyes widen slightly at the compliment, and she reaches up, fingertips touching her carefully coiffed green hair in the direction of Dawson's gesturing. "I wasn't sure you'd be into--" She tucks an imaginary stray hair behind her ear, looks down at the binoculars in her hand. When she looks back up, her smile is just a touch uncertain. "I'm really glad you like it." "I don't actually know what cormorant beauty standards are like. Birds have a lot of weird tastes. I don't --" Dawson breaks off with a small shake of his head. "Be into what? I mean," his smile skews a little lopsided, "it's far from my usual style but you wear it really well. Not that my opinion is -- " For a second his brows furrow. "necessary?" "Yeah, I've seen those freaky dancing tropical birds on Planet Earth." Polaris shakes her head, blushing. "I was about say I wasn't sure you'd be into the alternative look, but then I realized--I have no idea what you like." Her blush deepens. "Not like I was about to dye my hair if you didn't like it, but..." She shrugs, flashes him a grin, "...I'm glad my date thinks I'm pretty." "You are pretty. It's just -- not exactly encouraged at church, so it's not really common in girls I've --" Dawson starts to reply, but then closes his mouth again with a deeper flush. He looks back out toward the water, his fingers scrunching down into the blanket. "Sorry, I -- um, do you -- are you actually..." He hesitates, sucking his cheeks in between his teeth. Polaris beams at the praise. "Thank you! The green grew on me--figuratively and literally." Here she hesitates, blinking. "Am I actually...?" She blinks, arching one dark green eyebrow. "Wait, so does that mean you've only dated girls from your church?" Dawson ducks his head, chewing harder on the insides of his cheeks. "I -- well, yeah. Is that..." He lifts his hand, rubbing slowly at the back of his neck. "With how life has been, there hasn't been a lot of --" But this breaks off, too. He drops his hand again, clenching the blanket slowly into his fist. "Haven't had a lot of time for dating just for fun, and if it was more serious than that I wouldn't..." The look he gives Polaris is uncertain. "Are you? More -- serious." "...'normal'?" Polaris suggests. "I dunno, but I hadn't been on a date in like ten years, until you asked me out, so." She shrugs, tucking her legs in tighter beneath herself. "To be honest with you, I've never really done serious. But I think..." She hesitates. "I think I'd like to try it. If you're interested, I mean." There's a stretch of quiet that follows this. Dawson watches the distant birds diving beneath the water, his fingers tracing lightly against a line of stitching in the blanket. "I do like you," he replies finally, quiet and careful. "But I don't know if -- don't know what that would be long-term, we're not -- I need to be with -- my church is -- " One of his shoulders hitches, small and quick. "I just don't want to lead you on or. Waste your time." Polaris follows Dawson's gaze, smiling faintly as the birds vanish into the gleaming Hudson. She doesn't seem fussed with his silence, but her eyes snap back to him when he speaks again. Then go wide-wide. "They don't like you--dating, outside the church?" She gathers herself, studying him closely. "But I mean, I don't think you could ever be a waste of my time. Even if it was just fun." She licks her lips, looking back at the waterfront. "I don't actually even know anything about your religion." "Oh, they definitely do not like that. Unless I'm planning to bring them into the Church, I guess. But yeah. They're all very clear that a temple marriage should be -- well, all of our highest priority." Dawson's smile is brief. A little sheepish. "Most people don't know much about my religion. Even the ones who think they do." His lip catches for a moment between his teeth as his eyes slip sideways to Polaris. "Why would you want to date me if -- I mean, you could be with someone who actually... I don't really understand. What the point would be. For you." "I think literally all I know is that y'all are really big on the whole--bringing people into the church." Polaris mirrors Dawsons's sheepish smile. "I guess so's my religion, theoretically. I mostly broke with my Church on account of them telling me who I could or couldn't love, so I doubt I'd play too well with yours." She shrugs, smoothing over the hem of her skirt. "Doesn't mean I'm not down to learn, though, because..." Her brows wrinkle, and she looks steadily at him. "I like you...kind of a lot. Enough to want to--actually know what I'm considering, you know?" She looks down. "Never really felt like this, before. You're point enough for me." "It's not always easy," Dawson admits softly, the red still flooding his cheeks. "It hasn't been easy since coming out, at least, and -- I can't say being in the closet was great either. There's just -- so much good it brings to my life, too, and I want to think that those of us who care can work to change the parts that --" The breath he exhales is quick. Heavy. His eyes meet Polaris's, thoughtful. "If you want to learn, I'm glad to explain. I just --" He rubs again at the back of his neck. "Thank you." "I'm sorry," Polaris murmurs. "I can't imagine that. I exploded out of the closet at 15, and whatever my parents or church said--I always had Wendy." She blinks suddenly. "Huh. Maybe I can imagine, a little." Her shoulders hitch up slightly. "I hear so many vague bad things about Mormons, but I think the truth is every religion has problems and they all need work. People just like to pick on some more than others." Leaning over, she bumps her shoulder to his, lightly. "You sticking with them and putting in that work? It's a hell of an endorsement."