Logs:Taking Up Space

Taking Up Space
Dramatis Personae Jax, Lily
In Absentia	2021-10-10 "This is your community, too."
Location <NYC> Chimaera Arts - Dumbo
This is just one of the many abandoned warehouses in DUMBO, and like many of them it has recently changed hands. Unlike most of those, however, it does not have some corporate developer's sign out front promising a transformation into luxury condominiums or a boutique shopping center or the latest concept restaurant. Instead it's marked by a piece of weathered but wildly colorful plywood propped up on a stack of broken pallets, which reads "Chimaera Art Space!" above "chimaera.org" in smaller letters. The warehouse is moderately large and decorated with graffiti art in various styles--some of it recognizable as the work of renowned local street artists. A pair of monstrous scrap metal sculptures, perhaps still works in progress, flank the entrance. The building itself has undergone significant renovation recently, complete with wiring, plumbing, and a modular partitioning system. The grounds, too, have been cleaned up, ramshackle fences torn down and rusting detritus removed in favor of reclaimed (and brilliantly repainted) outdoor furniture ringing an impressively engineered firepit. It's never exactly empty around here but this weekend things are back into a full swing bustle -- the energy in the warehouse is a decidedly weird vibe with a few protests already underway, ramping up to even bigger ones planned midweek for the anniversary of Dawson Allred's murder. Many of the people here today seem energized, eager to be Helping, lending a hand in the kitchen or enthusiastic about the posters they're painting. Fired up, ready to go. If it is at all offputting to the people here who were close friend's of Dawson's -- well. Maybe it just comes with the territory. Jax certainly looks like he's doing More Or Less Alright, bright (in faded denim overalls heavily paint-splattered and festooned with a number of variably-colored flower patches, a purple tee that reads NONE OF US ARE FREE UNTIL ALL OF US ARE FREE across the chest, hair dyed in vivid peacock-toned ombre, glittery rainbow and black Chuck Taylors, a touch of metallic purple-green eyeshadow). He hasn't been overseeing the art build, not really, but after running a short health & safety training he's stayed to work on a painting of his own (an inversion of a very common Mincing Mockingbird meme, it features a northern flicker set against a greywashed background with text laid over top that says 'The risk I took was calculated, but man, am I bad at math.') and being in the vicinity of ongoing work -- getting swept into shepherding the newbies just sort of happens. He seems, at least, more or less chipper with the barrage of questions Helpful Volunteers have for him as a Chimaera veteran. Lily's work here is less creative than some of the others, but the pile of donated medical supplies in this part of Chimera is being steadily depleted as Lily fills up red-duct-tape covered packs. In wide legged black jeans, a green button-up flannel shirt over a NY Action Medical Shirt, and paint-stained steel toe boots, Lily is not advertising her status as Sister of the Deceased, but there are a few curious newcomers that point her way and whisper. She fills the pack in her hands and sets it aside, glancing to Jax as tends to the flock in the warehouse. Lily is the next person to ask for his attention, walking up to his painting with hands tucked into her pockets. "Hi," she says, a little awkwardly. "Don't suppose any of these people coming up to you have goggles to donate?" She's looking more at the bird than at Jax. Jax's lips twist to the side, his nose crinkling briefly. He's looking at the bird, too; though his paintbrush is held loosely in one hand its little red head patch shimmers briefly and shifts to a pink-purple-blue gradient. "Mmm, we got offers of milk, so many face masks, adult diapers, a buncha homeopathic tinctures, more maalox than we can possibly store, like an entire pallet of large size gloves..." He gnaws on his lip, head shaking. "Joshua usually knows where to rustle up extra shatterproof goggles if you manage to catch sight of him but he's admittedly a little hard to track down some days. Lately 'specially. You been hanging in? Looks like a bit of a chaos over with the ah," he nods in the general direction of the medic supplies. Lily makes a face. “People have got to chill out with the milk. At least everything else doesn’t need to be kept cold.” Her gaze lingers on the edges of the bird’s wings, on the text that accompanies it, for a moment longer before following Jax’s nod toward the medic supplies. “I can’t seem to catch him, which —“ Lily shrugs, “— I seem to be keeping my head above water, save for the goggles, so I’m trying not to get in the way.” She bites the inside of her cheek, looking sidelong at Jax for a moment. “Wanted to ask, though — are you going to be speaking? On Wednesday, at the rally.” "Real shame, then, goggles be right useful for that." Jax settles down a bit more heavily into his stool, eye fixing on the painting (which has not reverted to its true colors). "You know, I don't rightly know. Mostly just here to make sure things run smooth. S'a whole whole lotta folks seem to have a piece they want to say Wednesday already and I don't know as I need to be taking up the space." His thumb traces slowly along the handle of his paintbrush, and his head tilts to one side as he looks up at Lily. "Did you want to speak? I can make sure there's a spot for you." Lily's eyes drift back over to the bi-coloured crest. "Oh, no. I'm good with the medics. And I don't think I could come up with anything to say about him that hasn't been said before, better." She frowns, turning to face Jax better. "Maybe I should, though -- Fox News might hound our folks either way, might be good to get ahead of it..." She shakes her head. "I don't know. Was just kind of hoping, if you were going to speak again, maybe you could have included a couple things from me. Just a couple. Anonymously. I don't want to take up space either, and you were -- are -- really good at rally speeches. I can still hear last year's in the back of my head." "No doubt they'll be sniffing around. If any real persistent vultures giving you trouble, you just let me know, yeah?" Jax's smile is just a little crooked. "Got practice enough getting'em gone from years of hanging 'round Ryan, may s'well put it to use." His cheeks flush darker, his eye fluttering open a touch wider. "Oh! That -- ain't taking up space if the space is meant for his family an' all to -- but yeah, I could make sure some of your words get said if you ain't feeling comfortable -- I know this has all been. A lot." The painting shimmers again, fading back to the true paint shades of the bird's natural coloration. "I know we ain't like -- close or nothing, but for what it's worth, I'm glad you stayed. I can't know how complicated it's been but -- this is your community, too. I think that woulda meant something to him." Lily's smile in return is a little sad, not quite reaching the corners of her eyes. "I will, thank you. Hopefully won't need to." The smile fades as Jax goes on, though Lily nods at the end of every fragmented thought. "Thank you." Whether this thanks is for the last sentiment or the offer to pass her words along is unclear. "It has been. A lot. Yeah. Not more so for me than it's been for you, though. And -- he was your family really, more than mine -- and I've done harm to this - his - our community, and that just -- it cancels out any claim to stage time I might have by blood, I think. When I'm still trying to get right by his memory." Her gaze drops to Jax's shoes, cheeks suddenly flushed. "I know you just said, we aren't close or anything. But. It means a lot when you say you're glad I'm here." It's a quick flash of color, blink and you'll miss it -- a white paint splotch on her boot toes shimmers peacock-ombre, then back to dull eggshell. "Yeah." Jax's voice is still quiet, but his fingers have tightened their grip on his brush. "S'a lot of folks who done harm one way or other. I can't say what cancels out what but -- I'on think it's a question of claim or right. Just... you're working to do better. Everyone he cared about was. That means something, too." His eye flicks down to the shifting paint splotch, pierced eyebrows quirking up curiously. His huh is just soft, below his breath. The splotch returns and spreads, peacock tones leaking out into the rest of the boot toe. "You get me those words of yours, yeah? But there'll be a spot for you all the same, if you change your mind." Lily, eyes still downcast, shrugs a moment before her breath catches. She watches the colors bleed over her shoe, looks up to Jax with a quick "I'm sorry--" that butts into his words. She cuts herself off, nods when Jax is done speaking. "I'll. Yeah. I'll text you? Signal you? Thank you." Her cheeks are still flushed when she looks back towards the medical supplies. "I better get -- let you get back to --" A hand flaps towards the bird. "Thanks. Again." Something complicated crosses Jax's expression when he looks back at the painting, but it resolves itself into a smile, small and wistful. "Yeah -- yeah. I'll see you 'round. Soon. I'll send Joshua your way if I see him. Hopefully, with goggles, no milk." A wide-brimmed straw hat materializes, briefly, on his head, just long enough for him to touch its brim lightly to Lily before he turns back to his painting.