Logs:Perspectives

Perspectives
Dramatis Personae Alex, Isra
In Absentia	2019-04-27 "You... you aren't afraid going out like that?"
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. Though Sunday has been somewhat cool for late April, the sun chased off behind clouds, Tompkins Square Park is still bustling with residents and tourists alike. The dog run is full with yelping and howling as a herd of dogs play under the watchful eye of their parents, and a small crowd has formed around one of the City's many professional chess players ($5 to play, $10 returned if you win!) No New York City park would be complete, of course, without the buskers, food carts, and street salespeople hocking their various and sundry wears. Alex, of course, is the lattermost of these, set up with a small plastic tub turned upside-down to show off the plain black framed pieces -- mostly landscapes and cityscapes from a bird's eye view, drawn in colored pencil, though there are a scattering of portraits as well. A hand-illustrated calligraphed sign on the front, slightly worn at the edges, advertises the prices: $50 for a full-color giclée, $25 for a greyscale one, originals and commissions 'by request'. If his tattered hoodie, hood pulled up over his brow, is any indication, he hasn't been selling a whole lot of the latter. Isra sweeps into the park, seemingly as impervious to the cold as to the stares of the other city folks just out to enjoy their Sunday. She's wearing a pale green wrap dress tied off artfully at the waist, her skin a gradient of iridescent blue-purple splashed with drifts of fine silver spots that glimmer in the sunlight, highlighting rather than hiding the sharp angles of her inhuman body. The membranes of her immense batlike wings are night-black and spangled with silver stars that seem to twinkle as she moves. The caprine horns that spiral back from her temples and the heavy sharp talons that tip her fingers, toes, and each digit of her wings gleam a bright polished silver. She pauses to drop some money in a busker's violin case, and comes to a stop beside Alex's table, cocking her head at some of the overhead views of the city. "These are lovely," she observes, eyes flicking up to study the artist for a long moment. "And /quite/ true to life. All your work?" Alex doesn't immediately look up at the approach of a potential customer, pencil carefully shading in the reflection in a building window. "Ah -- yes, all of it's my work. Some are prints, but I have originals for most of them if you'd like." Alex lifts his pencil and his head to smile at Isra -- and does a double take. His eyes flick over her -- wings, skin, horns, and back to her face, his own eyes widening. "O-oh. You... you aren't afraid going out like that?" he asks, a plaintive note in his own voice. "You are very skilled, Sir. I commend you." Isra cocks her head like a quizzical dog, her bare eyebrow ridges upraised. "My parents would surely ask the same question if they could see me, but I do not feel that it is /so/ very indecent, is it?" She looks down at her dress, which covers her shoulder and upper arms but exposes her upper back. "Unless you mean the weather, but, well..." The corner of her mouth twitches up in amusement. "The cold never bothered me anyway." Alex blinks several times at Isra, head tilting to one side and back, so he can study her out of a single eye in a distinctly bird-like gesture. His mouth opens once, closes, and then his eyes dart around them suspiciously. Hesitantly, almost haltingly, the young man lifts his hands to withdraw the hood from on top of his head, revealing a head full of feathers. “Me either, but... I’m from Canada, so.” Isra shows no sign of surprise or dismay at the sight of Alex's feathery hair, through her eyes do stray to his shoulders speculatively. "I hail from upstate, but some would say the difference in climate is minimal." She looks at some of Alex other pieces, nodding to herself. "Might I commission you to draw something?" “Commission?” Alex’s head tilts to the side in that same bird-like gesture, surprise written clearly across his face. He straightens up, shoulders rolling back and a bright smile snapping into existence on his face. “It would be my pleasure. What would you like?” he asks, flipping back to the beginning of his notebook. "My partner," she replies, "Dusk. He lives nearby, actually, so you may have seen him coming and going, if you're around here often..." She fishes a large smartphone from an emerald green velvet purse and unclips the stylus from its case to swipe at the screen. "I have plenty of other reference images, and can send them to you if you like, or print them out if that would be more convenient, but let me show you one that came to mind..." After a moment she finds what she was looking for and turns the phone around to show Alex a photo of a dark-haired man with equally dark bat-like wings, banking gracefully into a turn and smiling up into the camera--it seems likely the photographer was airborne, as well, given the unusual angle. "It is not that we've any shortage of art in our lives, but it occurs to me after seeing your aerial views that some artists may have a unique and...intimate perspective on flight, or portraying subjects who are in in flight." She pauses, studying Alex again. "What do you think?" Leaning forward, Alex looks curiously at the photo on the phone, turning his head from side to side to study it from different angles. “Were you thinking a portrait him doing of anything in particular? Flying, I mean, but... anything specific?” Slightly yellowed teeth dig into his bottom lip as he contemplates. “I think I may have seen him around the area once, but... more photos would certainly be helpful. I can give you my email, if that works?” "Just flying really," Isra replies placidly, using the stylus to flip to another few pictures from the same shoot. "What I'd really like captured, in addition to his physical grace, is his /joy/ in flying. The details I will leave in your capable hands, once you've had a chance to look over the references in earnest." She tucks the stylus back into its bracket on the phone case and plucks up a business card from the table. "That works--this email address, I presume?" She holds up the card between two gleaming silver talons. Alex nods thoughtfully as Isra speaks, though his eyes are fixed on the photos on the phone. One hand smooths over the feathers on his head, shirt-sleeve dragging back for a moment to reveal an undulating black feathery pattern on his skin. "Yes, of course..." Alex taps his nose idly with the end of his pencil, considering carefully. "I think I can do that. Does he fly around the city, or only outside it? Or, do you want him pictured in one regardless?" Alex's eyes flick up to match Isra's, a smile on his face. "That email would be perfect. I can have a couple of sketches over to you in the next couple of days for you to review, unless you want it to be a surprise." Isra's ears swivel toward Alex, then flick back. "He flies in the city or out, but I confess I had not given much thought to background imagery." She pauses, considering, as she tucks away both phone and business card. "I suppose from certain angles the /sky/ could serve for a backdrop? I am no artist, myself, and do not know what would look best. I intend for it to be a surprise to /him/, certainly, and would love to see progress sketches if that is not a hardship to you. I will email you photos when I get home, and please do let me know how best to send you payment." Isra inclines her head, a small bow. "Good day, Mr. Carpenter, and I look forward to working with you."