Logs:The clothes make the man / so what does that make this place? / A bizarre bazaar.

The clothes make the man / so what does that make this place? / A bizarre bazaar.
Dramatis Personae Natsumi, Ren, Tian-shin
In Absentia	2024-08-03 "Can’t always be wearing the clothes too."
Location <NYC> The Bazaar - Flushing
This was once a Flushing office building that rented to startups, rapid growth industries, and fly-by-night operations who don't want any questions asked. After a change of ownership and abandoned plans to convert it into luxury condos, it has lain largely empty, and as of late the local community has reclaimed the space to convert it into an immense indoor marketplace. The lobbies are packed with food vendors and the hallways lined with kiosks selling a dizzying variety of goods, flea-market fashion. Various offices are given over to groups of merchants selling similar wares: one dedicated to books, another to computer components, and a rather popular one selling (perfectly legal) weapons...at least during the day. Rumor has it that the Bazaar's night market is becoming the go-to place for trade in illicit goods. But night or day, the place is bustling with activity, noisy and raucous commerce in many languages (though predominantly Mandarin and Spanish). Chances are, you can find anything your heart desires here...if you're willing to pay the price. It's a bustling nighttime -- quite late, with many of the daytime vendors closed up and the night market now thriving. At many of these stalls (electronics, jewelry) it's probably best not to ask too close about the provenance of the items; some of the "medication" purveyors aren't even making any pretense of having a licit trade. The food at least is all perfectly legit. Natsumi has just recently gotten herself a small paper bag of karaage and a lilikoi bubble tea and is drifting over towards a stall glittering with jewelry. She's already got plenty on -- bold colored mismatched earrings and a bright chunky bangle to brighten up her white romper & chunky white boots. She's rolling her eyes at a middle-aged man whose passing question ("-- bit past your bedtime, isn't it, sweetie?") sounds in tone entirely too salacious to properly match with the words, and quickly moving on with short backwards glances at the man who is, slow but sure, drifting after her. Tian-shin materializes out of the crowd and falls into step beside Natsumi as if they'd just been separated in the market and found each other again. She's dressed in a pale pink babydoll mandarin shirt and flowing wide-legged black pants, and has a bubble tea of her own from some other stall entirely. "I'm not going to pretend I am hip with what the kids do anymore, but this is actually kind of early, isn't it?" she asks, conversationally. Ren is sitting at one of the tables, having already gotten his tea and sipping at it. He wears his long dark coat, black t-shirt, and black fabric mask hanging off his ear as he takes another sip. His eyes dart up when he overhears the man’s voice, the tone, and his eyes narrow further when he sees who it’s directed toward. Ren scowls and grabs his cane, standing up from his slouch to his full height, then makes his way over. Upon seeing Tian-shin slide in next to Natsumi, he falls into step next to Tian-shin, "I think he's the one who needs to be calling it in. And maybe not come back out." He adds to the conversation, giving a Tian-shin a polite nod in greeting. He sends a look back towards the man, and maybe with his long coat, height, scarring on his face, he might strike an imposing image to some. "I actually have no idea what time it is. It's summer, time is a fiction." Natsumi is all too happy to pretend she is here with these people, kind of casually offering her fried chicken out to either of them. Somewhere behind, the older creeper is melting back into the crowd when the young teen seems to have company now. "Uuuunfortunately though the wolves always come out at night. Karaage? It's the best I've found on this coast but they only do the popup here on weekend nights, so unfair." Tian-shin bobs her head back at Ren, something about her poise suggestive that she's just conquered the urge to reach for a phone. "'No idea what time it is' definitely a 2020s mood." She reaches casually to pluck a morsel of fried chicken from the bag proffered by the teen and pop it into her mouth. "Oh, yeah, that place is the best. But the cherry blossom tea at this place, though..." She waggles the tall cup in her hand. "I think we have pretty good night markets by East Coast standards, but Pacific rim folks are next level about those. You checked out any of the Brooklyn popup markets?" Upon seeing the man melt back into the crowd, Ren is slouching back down, tiredly, maybe not attempting to look so imposing anymore. His eyebrows do raise at the karaage offer, and while he looks tempted, he shakes his head, “I’m all set, thank you. But I’ll make note of it for next weekend.” He hums in agreement, scanning the crowd warily while taking another drawn out sip of his tea before speaking, “They’re worth checking out, if you haven’t. Fair warning—You’ll go there in search of one thing, come out with something completely different—a few things actually.” "Yeah," Natsumi is saying with a small scrunch of a smile, "by East Coast standards is a pretty big hedge unfortunately. Like this place is pretty sweet but if you've been to Shiliin or Talad Neon --" Her head shakes, wistful, but she is studying Tian-shin's cup intently like remembering it for later. "I haven't actually gotten out to Brooklyn that much, yet, I have no idea what's cool there. Anyway that sounds more like a promise than a warning, isn't that what the best markets should be like?" She glances back over her shoulder, quick, and then does a more leisurely kind of spin, walking backwards for a couple steps before she spins around just in time to avoid bumping into someone coming the other way. "Thanks for the save by the way, sometimes I feel like I'm a creeper-magnet, I pick up weird old guys like --" She glances briefly over to Ren and then cuts herself off with a small laugh. "Sorry, not you, I'm sure. Just --" Her bubble tea waggles towards the rest of the market. "The biggest one right now is in Industry City Monday nights." Tian-shin's gaze pulls toward a stall selling live plants, ranging from traditional bonsai to potted bamboo trained into fanciful shapes. "I know, Monday right? But they try to coordinate the pop-up ones so they're all on different nights now." She glances at Natsumi. "I'm sorry about the creepers, but it's not on you. Creepers could always decide not to creep, but since they don't..." She shrugs. "Us non-creepy aunties and uncles have a responsibility to keep them in line." “A warning, promise, and requirement all rolled up into one then.” Ren pauses, and then mutters to himself, “A…Waquirmise…” He’s tucking his tea under his arm, and taking out his phone to quickly type something one handed. By the time he’s re-pocketing the phone, the condensation from his drink has only made a small damp spot on his shirt. He then waves a hand at Natsumi’s comment, “No no, it’s smart to be cautious of people you don’t know.” He reassures, “No offense taken.” He nods in agreement with Tian-shin and checks his watch, “I don’t want to. Hover.” He sends a quick look to Tian-shin, eyebrows drawing together in a concern that leaks into his tone, “But I also don’t have anywhere pressing to be. Are you going to be alright getting home?” He asks Natsumi. “We can wait with you if you have someone to pick you up- or- whatever.” He gestures vaguely with his tea. "Iii don't know, I feel like if the creeperism is constant maybe..." Natsumi shrugs idly, smoothing a hand down against her romper. She is slowing now, stopping by a stand with lots of bright jewelry and expensive-looking watches; she's leaning in to eye a couple chunky bracelets thoughtfully. She looks up at Tian-shin, still smiling. "Honestly though, I feel like if more aunties were in biker gangs then more douchebags would be staying in line. How do you even... I do not see a lot of, you know --" She's fluttering her hand towards Tian-shin. "You don't really look like a biker." She's looking at a colorful marbled-resin bangle, finger trailing against its smooth surface. The smile she flashes Ren is, if anything, brighter. "Oh yeah, I'm set, I'm meeting friends soon but thanks! Anyway I waquirmise you that you will not regret checking out Junpuu next weekend, unless you're counting calories in which case you might." Tian-shin smiles, dipping her head in a gesture that might look like modesty in the right light. "I don't know if it has to be biker gangs, but yeah, it's easier to keep the creepers in line when they're afraid. That goes for the pervy uncles and the crooked cops and many other kinds of dirtbags." She glances aside at Natsumi. "That's one of the reasons I wanted to learn kung fu to begin with. The skills are part of it, and being seen a certain way is also a part of it. Even the vest only goes so far." She looks down, rolling the cup in her hand. "Most people don't think I look like a lawyer, either. Being a woman in America--" She pauses, glancing at Ren. "--being Asian in America, too--is a constant struggle against the expectation that you're there for other people's use, that you're going to back down, that you're going to submit. It takes more than the right clothes to fight that." Ren slows along with them, taking the opportunity of stopping to lean against the stand. He gives the jewelry a cursory look, but pays attention again at the mention of a biker gang. A smile tugs just slightly at the corner of his mouth at her use of his new word, “Junpuu? Got it.” He slides out his phone again, and begins typing out another note. He looks up at Tian-shin from his phone, “It’s always the expectations.” He says in grumbled agreement. He slides the phone back into his coat pocket again, and picks up his cane from where it’s leaning against the table. “Can’t always be wearing the clothes too.” "Wait, you know kung fu?" Natsumi's eyes widen, and for a moment her tone is distinctly impressed. She straightens, looking Tian-shin up and down. "Do they -- require that? For the bike gang?" She chews on the corner of one lip, looking back to the jewelry and tracing her finger against the line of bracelets with a quiet tinkling chime. "Wait do you run around streaking a lot? I think clothes are a most-of-the-time thing for most of us." Tian-shin looks Ren over a bit more closely. "Maybe not that much clothing? But in general, I think we mostly...can always be wearing clothes." She quirks a wider smile. "I know kung fu," she confirms. "It's not required, but it does come in handy--especially with the kind of people who think little Chinese women don't make very intimidating bikers." Ren sighs, tiredly, “I meant. The right clothes. I didn’t mean no clothes-” He huffs, and his small smile from earlier flicks over his face again, “Never mind.” He shifts legs he’s leaning on, back and forth, briefly, “If it’s any consolation, I have no doubt in my mind that you could kick my ass-” He winces at his word usage and glances oh so quickly at Natsumi, “Uh. Unfortunately, that is not a very high bar—I think most people could kick my ass. Maybe I should learn kung fu too.” He tilts his head, “Did you learn somewhere in the city?” Natsumi's brows are scrunching, and she turns to scrutinize Ren (and his Unseasonable Emo Outfit) with a judgmental press of lips. "Wellll, some people," she is informing him with an air of gentle sympathy, "pick clothes that suit? The occasion?" Her shrug is small. She takes a sip of her bubble tea, mashing one of the popping boba against the roof of her mouth. Her eyes have darted unsubtly to Ren's cane when he mentions learning kung fu, and then she's turning back to Tian-shin with wider eyes. "Biking without clothes sounds particularly bad-idea-y. Where do you learn kung fu? Do you know any good teachers here?" Tian-shin bobs her head. "I learned at Chun Yu Kung Fu, in the Manhattan Chinatown. I actually taught there for a while, before I started teaching regular school, but I definitely don't have time to do that anymore. My shi-fu is still the main instructor there, though." She crinkles her brows. "He's my actual uncle now, and he's a good teacher. But it takes a lot of work to get good enough at it to fight." Ren looks at Natsumi kinda deadpan, but he doesn’t look particularly offended. He takes another long sip from his tea, perhaps reevaluating his life choices, before responding, “Again-I didn’t mean no clothes.” He says a little exasperated, “And my clothes are- fine, thank you.” He says like maybe he doesn’t quite belief it himself. He swirls his tea with his hand, “I might have to check it out, then, with a recommendation like that. There’s a few different types- uh, styles, right?” He asks, “How long did it take to learn yours?” "You're wearing a full-length black coat in the middle of August," Natsumi replies lightly, turning her attention back to the bracelets. "It's like, still ninety degrees after the sun's down. You have to know how totally sketch that is, right? Kind of, especially when you..." She trails off, her lips pursing critically, whether that's at the bracelets or at Ren. She plucks her phone from her pocket, looking up the school Tian-shin mentions and then closing her browser again. "Anyway, I've gotta go. Thanks for, y'know," she says to Tian-shin, and to Ren with a tight sad smile: "Good luck with your life." The ice rattles in her plastic cup as she takes another sip of her drink and then she flits off, the bustle of the Bazaar soon swallowing her up. "I've been studying for...oh, twenty years now?" Tian-shin looks like she's still doing math in her head, but doesn't bother adding more resolution to her estimate. "My shi-fu would say that you aren't done learning until you're dead, and probably not even then." She blushes and busies herself with her boba while Natsumi breaks down Ren's wardrobe shortcomings, and does not add her own commentary. "Be safe, I'll see you around." After the teenager has wandered off, she bows again to Ren. "I know you didn't do it for the praise, but thank you for stepping up. Have a good evening." She flashes him a small smile and bows before wandering off. “Twenty years.” Ren blows out a breath. “I better get started, then.” After Natsumi leaves, and being thoroughly criticized for his clothing, Ren blinks, shakes his head minutely, and looks at Tian-shin. His eyebrows draw together, a bit disbelieving, “Is this where I say ‘kids these days’?” He asks, jokingly. He runs a hand through the back of his hair, and gives a quick half nod half bow in return, “Oh- thank you, too. You as well.” After a final wave, he takes a moment to inspect his own jacket, pulling at the hem with his hands, and his eyes are slowly drawn up to a stand with some clothing. He huffs, long drawn out in consideration, and wanders on towards it.