Logs:Mini-Vacation

Mini-Vacation
Dramatis Personae Charlie, Lucien, Flèche
In Absentia	2019-06-16 "I've had my fair share of odd things I've seen around these parts."
Location <NYC> Washington Square Park - Greenwich Village
Behind a majestic white marble arch, a smaller cousin of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, this beautiful green space is a popular destination for the young, the hip, and the artistic. A huge circular wading fountain is the centerpiece, ringed by benches, playgrounds, dog runs, gaming tables, and lush green lawns. In fair weather, the park is almost always crowded with tourists, students, chess enthusiasts, and local families come to tire out their children and dogs. It's a gloriously warm evening in the park, a cadre of visitors, tourists and natives alike out enjoying the weather. Near the fountain, a young teenager has attracted a small crowd with his busking, skillful bass guitar and rather decent singing. On a bench not far distant, Lucien is currently leaning down, filling a small plastic bowl with water so that a sleek black and tan dog can eagerly drink from it. He's dressed sleekly as well, well-tailored linen trousers and crisp subtly-pinstriped button down. There's a thermos near to his elbow on the bench, a Kindle on his lap, though neither of these things have his attention half so much as the energetic pup who seems only too happy to try and solicit pettings from everyone who comes by after she's done taking her water. Charlie was taking her rounds through the park, quietly walking along the concrete paths. She wore a plain dark gray cardigan, and beneath was a simple white dress that reached a few inches above her knee. Her eyes seemed to fixate and focus on different things she passed, but it wasn't long before she soon caught a glimpse of a small pup not too far from her. She tilted her head, after a moment deciding to merely head a bit closer to see the excited dog. "Excuse me, is this your pet?" She spoke softly, stepping a bit closer without quite realizing the familiar face of the stranger. The dog is all over wriggles when Charlie approaches, tail wagging furiously. A gesture from Lucien, and she at least *sits* -- mostly sits, tries to sit, her rump hovering an inch or two off the ground although she's clearly making the attempt, looking to Lucien as if for confirmation of Just! How! Good! she's being. Not jumping on *anyone*. The curl of Lucien's smile is small; he produces a nub of treat in the palm of one hand, feeding it to the dog as he looks up at Charlie. "She is my pup, yes." There's a quiet warmth in his softly francophone-accented voice. "Though she would gladly be anyone's pup for a minute, if they offered her attention." His head tilts, brows drawing a touch inward. "Three lives," he says after a moment of thought, "murder mysteries." She seemed quite proud of the pup and her attempt to sit, reaching to rest her hand on her knees and leaning down a bit to carefully watch the excited thing. "Oh, you're so cute - look at you go!" She whirred, eventually standing straight again and glancing towards Lucien. She tilted her head for a moment, a bit confused as to what he was saying. "Hm. . . Murder mysteries?" Flèche wags her tail harder, thumping it against the side of the bench when Charlie gets down on her level. Lucien rests his hand on the dog's head, scritching gently between her ears. "Three Lives and Company. The bookstore," he clarifies. "You were interested in murder mysteries. Did you ever find something to suit your taste?" "Oh! Oh yes -" Every memory began to flood back, and after a moment she hurried to sit down beside the other. "I did - it did take some time, but I found this interesting eerie book - I wish there were more books like it." "There are so many books in the world. There might well be, if you know where to look." Lucien keeps one hand resting on the dog's head -- she's settling down, now that Charlie is taking a seat as well. His other hand touches lightly to the Kindle in his lap. "I am glad your search was fulfilling. I don't believe I got your name, last we met? It was so brief." She glanced down at his kindle for a moment before turning her gaze back towards him. "Charlie - Charlie Wisp. And you're Lucien, aren't you?" She asked quietly, a slight chirpy tone in her voice. She was hopeful that she got his name correct. There is a very brief widening of Lucien's eyes when she gives his name, a brief curious lift of brows, but his head inclines, just slightly, in affirmation. "Lucien Tessier. As I recall it, we are practically neighbors." He shifts his hand off the dog's head, letting the handle of her leash slip loose around her wrist as he turns his attention away from her. He shifts on the bench to angle -- just slightly more towards Charlie, though not so much as to lose track of the young bassist still in his peripheral vision by the fountain. "Apologies -- I wasn't *intending* to keep you. Flèche just wants to say hello to everybody. Not," he reassures, "that I mind the company either. *Were* you heading anywhere in particular, this evening?" She glanced down at the pup for another brief moment, eyeing it carefully and letting her own hands fall into her lap. After what seemed like a mere few seconds she turned her head towards the other again, although this time she spoke a bit softer. "Oh, not really - I was just going for a walk if anything. I wanted some time away from work for awhile, so you could consider this day a mini 'vacation' from the lab and what not." She snorted quietly, happy to finally be conversing with him full on. "The lab?" The question has a definite curiosity to it, but Lucien does not pry further than this -- vacation, after all. He reaches to curl his hand around his thermos, draw it into his lap, his fingers sketching absent circles against the smoothe matte surface. His eyes drift away -- towards the tables of old men playing chess in the distance, towards a young woman blowing enormous bubbles for a cadre of small children to chase after, towards the dark-haired teenager playing Hozier songs by the fountain. "It is a good day for a vacation. Mini or otherwise. There is always something so very vibrant about this park. I come here when I need a small break, too, and never know quite what I'll find. Last week a girl was giving a class on juggling. Just over there." He nods just across the fountain plaza. "And the week before that someone said they would read my dog's fortune." "It is quite an interesting place, one full of wonders - and for a park, that feels like you'd be saying much. But it is true, I've had my fair share of odd things I've seen around these parts. Despite that - it's still relaxing to be here. It has. . . A soothing vibe to it, if you will -" She nodded her head slightly, reaching to tap at his hand for a moment. "Are you here for a break as well?" Lucien's eyes drop, a small tug twitching at the corner of his mouth as Charlie taps at his hand. "And what would be the oddest? That you have seen?" It's faint -- barely noticeable at all -- but at Charlie's touch to his hand there is a very subtle flush of warmth, of comfort, a light flutter of pleasant-soothing-happiness that washes out through her. "My dog is here for a break," he says with a quiet laugh. "I merely ensure she returns safe home again." He tips his head towards the fountain, and the teenager busking there. "My brother plays, from time to time. I find it pleasant to come by and listen." "Certainly the oddest thing I've seen is someone try to hold a yoga class for a bunch of cats and their crazy-cat-lady owners." She snorted, feeling herself begin to smile at the warm, comforting feeling she felt within her. She continued to gently tap at his hand, eventually turning her head somewhat towards the sky. "It sounds quite soothing, I don't blame you for visiting and listening to such a thing." "Yoga for cats?" Lucien's eyes grow slightly wider. His chuckle is quiet, knuckles pressing to his mouth. "I have seen pup yoga advertisements, for people who take downward facing dog a bit *too* seriously, but cats seem -- the next tier of nonsensical. Would they get much out if it? I imagine they'd either curl up on the mat straight away to sleep or just decide they were leaving and wanted none of your rubbish." The subtle trickle of warmth continues -- at least for a time, until Lucien shifts his hand, popping the cap of his thermos to lift it slowly for a long sip of his drink. He lowers his hand to rest the thermos back on the bench after, fingers curled tight around it. "I rather wish I could stay and enjoy it the whole evening long. Regrettably, I ought to head home soon -- at least if I want there to be any supper on the table tonight." "Yeah, it was quite the interesting sight. I'm not quite sure who had a bright idea of letting that be a thing, but I suppose it was what it was." She snickered, watching him carefully before tilting her head. "Oh, that's fine - I kind of have to go as well, really -" She murmured, beginning to stand to her feet. "We should hang out sometime soon again, I think you're. . . Really cool." She admitted with a somewhat nervous gaze. Lucien has a small smile on his face as he gets to his feet, winding Flèche's leash carefully about his wrist. "Do you? I am flattered. Yes, we ought. You are just around the corner, no? Perhaps you can come by for dinner, some time." He is getting his phone out of his pocket, opening up the contacts list to start a new entry for Charlie Wisp and offer the phone to her to enter her own number. "I assure you the food I make is quite edible." "I'd surely hope so -" She snickered again, reaching for his phone and quickly typing her number into the contact listing. After a moment, she handed it back with a small but pleased huff. "Be sure to give me a call sometime when you've got food, I'll come over and ya a gift for it." She winked, folding her arms over her chest. Lucien tucks the phone back into his pocket. "Surely an evening of pleasant company is its own gift. Good evening, Miss Wisp." His head inclines deeply, and he holds his thermos and Kindle close to his chest as he heads off, the enthusiastic bounding of his dog a stark contrast to his own measured steps.