Logs:For a Good Cause

For a Good Cause
Dramatis Personae Kitty, Jean, Polaris, Wendy	2020-08-31 "What, can't I be a supporter and also a thirsty passerby?"
Location <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. The city is sweltering, out here on the patio of Evolve no less so than everywhere else. The large umbrellas only provide so much respite -- the large insulated carafes of lemonade, iced tea, iced coffee, ice water, have their own meagre comfort to give. Two of the patio tables have been pushed together and are currently heavily stocked (if not quite as heavily as earlier in the day) with cookies, cupcakes, brownies, a small stack of screenprinted tee shirts emblazoned with a firey bird soaring trumphant into the sky, broken shakles half-melted off of its flame-blue talons. Behind the table slumps Wendy, dressed in flowing white wrap pants, a sleeveless red top, gauzy white shrug over top, wisps of her black hair clinging to her forehead and neck with beaded sweat. She's removed her wide-brimmed straw hat, using it to fan at her face. Signs and literature on the table advertise a reason for her current melting; though the name of the organization reads simply NEW YORK FREEDOM FUND, the actual palm-card sized flyers make it clearer that this particular community bail fund explicitly serves mutants who have been arrested. Though the semi-depleted plates and semi-filled cash box suggest they've found some success out here, for the moment at least it is quiet. Polaris has been keeping in cool inside for the most part, but presently she emerges, carrying an ancient box fan attached to an extension cord that trails inside. She's wearing one of the firebird fundraiser t-shirts herself, black cut-off jeans barely any longer than her Evolve apron, and heavy black boots shot through with steel hardware much like her belt and sturdy wrist cuffs. "Don't die," she's admonishing Wendy even as she sets it up to direct a more steady breeze at the bake sale table. "I'm off the clock in 30, but me and Ravenna we can figure something out if you're about to have a heat stroke here." She trots over and sits on the edge of the table beside Wendy. "Did I miss any troublemakers?" Kitty is sweating in the summer heat, a light streak of water forming in the side of her face and onto the collar of her shirt- a sleeveless chiffon button down, paired incongruously with distressed denim shorts. Still, she is trying to be cheerful- “It’s a great cause,” she tells her walking companion, eyes lighting up as they turn the corner and she sees the setup in front of Evolve. She waves from down the block. When they’re close enough, she makes a beeline for her friends. “Hey!” She calls to Wendy and Polaris, ducking under a umbrella immediately. “Good sale so far?” She eyes the tins of treats. “Oh, do you guys know Jean?” Kitty quickly follows up, looking at the woman in question and beckoning her into the shade. Jean is feeling the heat of the summer, the breeze from the drive into town now faded. While her head scarf and shades serve for some protection she feels the sun biting at her pale porcelain skin. Her sheer cover helps to cut the sun, but traps the heat. The shade of the umbrella is a welcome change. "Hello, nice to meet you, I brought some cookies, though it seems you have plenty." She holds a tin, but a pleasant and sincere smile as she removes her shades to see them all better. "Perhaps I can buy a few things to help?" Her brilliant red hair is styled up in a clean bun with a silk scarf tied over to help add shade. Her outfit was a simple, but tailored cream dress that ended at her knees. "Oh, I died twenty minutes ago. You might just revive me, though." Wendy lowers her hat to her lap, her eyes fluttering closed as the box fan starts up. "Does Ion count?" she wonders, a small smile touching her face. She's just starting to ooze further down in the seat when people approach -- she perks, sitting up straighter, returning her hat to perch slightly askew on her head. "Oh! Hello! Yes. No. Yes. We've sold some. We could sell more. The citrus cookies and the chocolate crinkle cookies," she leans forward to confide, "are by far the best things here. Jackson baked them." Her smile is small; so is the little dip of her head. "Jean, you said? We have not. I'm Wendy. I like your scarf." "Oh shi--oot," Polaris's would-be profanity skews mid-sentence in vaguely comical fashion. "I guess I can live with zombie Wendy. Ion counts, and I'm sorry to have missed him!" She also perks up a bit when the others approach, lifting a hand to wave at Kitty. "Hey! Actual dedicated supporters and not just thirsty passers-by, wow!" Her grin is bright and quick. She hops off of the table. "I'm Polaris. I actually work here but it's slow right now so, you know, just tryna make sure Wendy doesn't pass out. The lemonade is pretty kickass, too. Whatcha ladies been up to, before gracing this humble fundraiser?" "What, can't I be a supporter and also a thirsty passerby?" Kitty says with mock seriousness before cracking a wide smile. "Oh, Jax cookies?" Her eyes light up. "Sign me up for like, ten of them." She glances at a carafe, then adds,"And about a galleon of lemonade." Kitty leans up against the pole of the umbrella, shrugging. "Oh, just some shopping - Jean thinks I should wear things that aren't t-shirts and leggings every once in a while." She's still got a jokey grin on her face as she lifts up a bag in demonstration. "Stimulating the economy is exhausting." Jean focuses her smile on Wendy, "Oh, thank you. I fear if I don't cover my head in the summer I burn quickly." Her eyes switch to the cookies with genuine curiosity, before moving again to Polaris. Adding to Kitty's response she says, "Pointing Capitalism towards a better direction!" As she says this she pulls a cheque book out of her purse, "speaking of, is check acceptable? Or should I find a place to withdraw cash? I would like to make a substantial dent in your stock." "Did you find things you like? Correctly capitalisming does sound very tiring," Wendy agrees, wide-eyed. "This is why I simply choose to be poor. Never have to be burdened with -- oh!" Her eyes go a little bit wider at the checkbook. She glances to Jean, then to Polaris, then to the checkbook. A slow scrunch pulls at her forehead, and she hesitates before pulling her phone out. "Sorry, one second --" A quick round of searching later and she has come up with information for Jean's check; she sets the phone down on the table, sliding it nearer so that Jean can see who to make the check out to. "We've been suggesting a dollar per cookie or two for the cupcakes but you can make whatever donation you like." Meanwhile she's looking over to Polaris, still wide-eyed: "How do we get a checkbook?" "I mean, you do rock the t-shirt-and-leggings look," Polaris allows, "but no harm in branching out! Capitalism can use some good steering, anyway." She leans on the back of Wendy's chair while she searches. "Whoa, checks. That's some impressive capitalisming, right there. I bet," she's telling Wendy, "a bank would give you one. You look responsible and trustworthy." She turns her bright smile back up at Jean. "Thanks for supporting the cause, though. Did you want to take some literature, or are you--familiar?" “I think so too! Why ruin a good thing, right?” Kitty says, twisting her head to give Polaris a smile. Kitty gives a wry chuckle at Wendy’s comment, but a quick look of relief passes over her face when the attention shifts back to Jean. She shakes her head slowly as Wendy goes frantically to her phone. “You gotta get Venmo, Jean.” Her lip twitches upward in amusement- she goes to help herself to a cup of lemonade. Jean is about to say something when Wendy looks somewhat uncertain about the checks, but at the presentation of the phone she nods, pulls a pen out of her purse, and writes out the information. Finishing with the name of the recipient she adds a total number, adding a one and four zeros following it. Finishing up with her signature she rips the check free of its paper shackles and hands it to Wendy. "I'll take four of everything and an iced coffee" she says and then looks to Polaris, replying. "I believe so, but I'd be happy for the literature. Always good to keep up to date." At that she heard Kitty's mention of something called a 'Venmo', "A what?" She asks blinking at the girl. Sometimes I really feel older then I am "The bank would probably want me to have an account for that." There's still a thoughtful frown etched into Wendy's face. She adds, a little softer: "I would write such good checks, though." Her eyes go wider when Jean gives her the check; she nods and punches a combination into her cash box, tucking it in with the rest of her money. "Four of everything. Absolutely." Careful and deliberate as she uses a fresh sheet of slightly waxy tissue paper to pluck the selections up and pack them in a box. "I think comfortable is a good aesthetic. Relaxed. Ready for anything." "Eh, details." Polaris waves one hand dismissively. "Between us we could probably scrape together enough cash to open an account. We'll get you some checks." She seems unconcerned about any other aspect of this whole banking business. "I like my look, but I can't say I don't envy the comfy aesthetic, you know? Not sure I can pull off industrial-comfy." She brushes her knuckles under her chin. "Venmo, that's like--PayPal, right? CashApp-plus-plus?" Kitty looks on at the check conversation, the corner of her mouth twitching upwards into a grin. “Do credit unions give out checks? That might be easier to set up.” She shrugs- “I’m sure you could order some online too.” She fills the cup, takes a deep drink of lemonade, closing her eyes briefly as she swallows. “Ugh, that stuffs great.” She pulls a five out of her pocket and passes it to Wendy, eyeing the rest of the display more critically now. “Basically,” she says, affirming Polaris’ assessment. “The Gen Z grandchild of the wire transfer.” "If I can help in any way with setting up a bank account, I know much more about that then all these new fancy apps." She let's out a bit of a sheepish chuckle and shifts some of the bags on her arms. Patiently waiting for Wendy to grab cookies with the tissue paper. Wendy layers the desserts with tissue paper between them. tucking the box neatly closed and sliding it over to Jean before pouring the coffee. "What would that even be? Pajamas with buckles? That's terrible for sleeping." She melts back into her seat, hands folding primly on the tabletop. "A bank account would likely be helpful. With -- at least two or three things. And then, I could write checks." There's a delighted gleam in her eyes, though her expression is still mostly composed. "I could write you my very first check, if you helped. It would say: Good for one story. There is," she admits, easily, "not too much else I have to offer." "Oh man bank accounts," Polaris declares, excitement in her wide hazel eyes. "I don't know about checks but it would be nice to have a bank account and like, credit cards. And Venmo. Boy, if dad could see me now..." She blows out a long breath and smiles. "If y'all wanna sip your drinks out of the heat, it's actually pretty nice inside. Kitty points at Jean from behind her cup. “I’ve never seen sales ladies fall over themselves so fast to help a woman. Take her with you to the bank and you guys will probably get them paying YOU to open an account.” She’s still grinning, even as a bead of sweat falls off her chin. “True, but then we leave poor Wendy here to melt alone?” Kitty shakes her head- then her eyes light up. “Wendy, do you want to walk through the ice drinks real quick? Might cool us both down.” Jean takes the box and puts the tin she's holding down in it's place. She is putting the confection stuffed box neatly into one of her bags as she listens to Kitty talk about the retail workers. A mild blush creeps to her cheeks at the thought. I suppose, thinking about it now, that she's not wrong. "Well, the offer is there!" She says pulling a couple business cards out of her purse and passing them to both Wendy and Polaris. They are basic, formal, and read Dr. Jean Grey MD with a number and an email attached. "And not just for banking assistance. If you ever need anything I can help with, please don't hesitate to call." She smiles at Kitty with a nod of agreement towards not leaving Wendy outside alone in this heat. "Thank you!" Polaris takes Jean's card and tucks it into her back pocket. "I'm definitely gonna take you up on that." Her grin is bright--maybe a little too bright, to Wendy's eyes--and compelling. "Oh hey, you know what we can do though? Is you two come inside for some ice cream, we'll fix some up for Wendy, too, then you can come back out and keep her company. Everyone gets a little cooler, nobody melts." She isn't waiting to see whether her enthusiasm catches, but makes for the door and gestures Jean and Kitty along. "C'mon!"